Grown(32)

“I’m just t-tired,” I stutter. “I need some sleep . . . alone.”

There’s a knock on the door. Before Korey can respond, Jessica enters the greenroom, eyes toggling between us.

“We have a problem,” she states.

“Yeah I know,” he snarls. “Someone ain’t got her shit together!”

“Not that. Well, not that exactly. It’s her parents. They’ve been calling. They want to arrange a visit.”

“Well, tell them she’s busy,” he says, arm motioning to the stage. “It’s not like we’re just kicking it on the beach. We working!”

“I know, but I can’t hold them off forever.”

Korey shoots me an angry look. “When do you turn eighteen again?”

I gulp. “Two months.”

He exhales. “Good! Then we can finally be fucking rid of them.” He plops down on the sofa, pouring himself a drink. “You know they’ve been breathing down my neck ever since you came into my life.”

I blink. “But . . . they’ve been nothing but nice to you.”

Korey snickers, shaking his head.

“Damn, I keep forgetting, you don’t know nothing about nothing. Ma, they practically begged me to take you. One less mouth to feed.”

That’s not true, I want to shout. But fear and shock sew my lips shut.

“Been trying to control you ’cause they know you their big money ticket out of being some broke-ass niggas.”

Hands trembling, my eyes narrow, and for a moment, the old me crawls her way out of the dark.

“Don’t talk about my mom and daddy like that,” I hiss.

He raises an eyebrow, as if impressed. “Oh, you don’t believe me? Ask Jessica—she’ll tell you. I can show you the texts they’ve sent. Asking for money, asking for what I owe. Man, thirsty as hell. That’s how parents be. They be using their kids just to fill they own pockets. Right, Jessica?”

Jessica’s eyes widen for a split second, and for the first time, through her cold demeanor, I see someone real, not just a block of ice. A real woman with emotions. Actually, no, not a woman.

A girl.

Maybe it’s the way she carries herself, bone straight like a number-two pencil, but now I can’t unsee the fact that Jessica is young.

“Plus, I’ve been paying their bills,” Korey carries on. “How else you think your little sis still going to that expensive-ass school?”

My face feels numb. “What are you talking about?”

He groans, rubbing his face.

“Just . . . just get her out of here,” he says with a flick of his wrist. “Tired of explaining myself.”

In the car, I dare to ask the question. “Jessica, how old are you?”

Tony, behind the wheel, glances in the rearview mirror, and she shoots me a soul-piercing glare.

“That is none of your business.”





Chapter 41


Decline


Hey, how’s school?

Kool. Everyone’s been talking about you. You’re like a celebrity. Which makes me a celebrity!

And the Littles?

They kool too. You talk to Mom? You’re not calling like you’re supposed to. Heard her trying to reach you through Korey.

I reread Shea’s message several times, willing it to change.

Korey wasn’t lying. Mom really was texting him.

Outside my window, on the top floor of our Washington, DC, hotel, I can see the Washington Monument, standing tall, snow covering the grass of the National Mall. I sit with the cold, hard facts Korey laid at my feet.

Shea is still in school because Korey is paying for it.

The Littles still have a roof over their head . . . because Korey is paying for it.

First, I was used as a resident babysitter, so I didn’t have a life of my own, now I’m being used again. This time for money. I don’t know what’s worse.

Korey enters, carrying Flounder.

“You . . . left this in Connecticut,” he says, setting the doll on the dresser.

“Sorry,” I mumble, continuing to gaze out the window.

“Nah, I’m sorry,” he says, falling to his knees in front of me. “I’m sorry I went off on you like that. I just . . . get so mad at the thought of anyone taking advantage of you. You so sweet and beautiful and I gotta protect the people I love.”

Korey holds my hand, looking up expectantly at me, and my throat closes. How could someone be so angry one minute, then love me so hard the next?

“It’s OK,” I relent. “I know it’s because you love me.”

“I do,” he says, cupping the side of my face. “I’d do anything for my Bright Eyes. I want to look into these eyes for the rest of my life.”

He stares at me, and there he is. My Korey. Sweet, caring, protective as ever.

“When you turn eighteen, I’m going to marry you.”

My heart surges. The smile growing across my face reaches my earlobes.

“Really?”

He grins, bashful and shy. “Yeah. I know I’m supposed to surprise you with a ring and all. But we already know what it is. Plus, no secrets. Right?”

I nod eagerly. “Right! No secrets.”

“We gotta have a big wedding, though. No Las Vegas joint with Elvis or nothing like that.”