Malice

Fear prickles my scalp because there’s nothing jokey about his tone.

He meant every last word.

Je

Or worse.

“Run along now,” Je

Ghost looks like he wants to say more, but to my shock, he keeps his words to himself and stalks from the room. I stare after him, then turn my stu

“Hey there, baby girl,” she smirks then pats the spot beside her on the sofa. I sit down, squirming because it’s damp. “Did you miss me?”

“What the fuck, Je

“I’ve been busy.” She shrugs, and her non-answer just pisses me off more.

“Busy? Ah, that makes perfect sense.” I glance toward the door Ghost disappeared out of. Leaning my face close to hers, I whisper, “What’re you doing with a guy like that, anyway? Momma, the way he talks to you…”

Je

“I brought you here because I have a request.”

The fucking nerve of this woman. “Request? What request could you possibly have of me?”

In a million years, I’d never have guessed the next words that fall out of her mouth.

“You need to stop seeing Saint Angelle.”