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15

Raya

I send Ace to voicemail for what’s gotta be the tenth time today.

I’m not mad at him anymore. I don’t think. I’m just…distracted.

The Corolla is being testy again. It’s probably the late summer heat. I have the air conditioner on full blast, but the air coming out feels dense and sticky, more like somebody exhaling into my face than actual cool air.

It’s always something.

At least Daddy’s checks hit the account today. If I need to fix something, I can do it. I just don’t want to. I take it personally when shit goes wrong. I know adversity is supposed to make us stronger, but I’m an Olympic gold medalist at this hard life shit by now.

Give me easy.

Give me luxury.

I want the soft life these bitches yap about all day.

To them, it’s about bottomless brunches and private jets, but to me, it’s about having the power to bend life to your will and force it to work for you so you can do what makes you happy.

Ace will give that to me.

Once I get rid of those fucking orcas.

Speaking of…

Kamryn’s meeting somebody this evening. I know that because she’s been here at Francisco’s for fifteen minutes and still hasn’t ordered a damn thing besides water.

I adjust my binoculars, keeping my grip firm so my hands don’t shake. Her table is right next to the big bay window, thank God, otherwise I’d have had to go in there undercover.

She’s dressed like an ‘Old Money Aesthetic’ Pinterest board. Everything’s in various shades of beige. As if that makes you look rich. The Taylor house looks like that inside, too. That’s probably where she got it from. Bitch looks like a roll of toilet paper.

That’s fitting.

The only thing about her that’s worth a damn is her bag.

I shake my head. Luxury handbags aren’t in my budget right now. I can probably convince Ace to buy me one, but only after he gets closer to me. Men are so funny about money. They’ll drop hundreds at the club with their boys, thousands on gadgets, but then get weird when a woman wants a little appreciation.

I shift in my seat, adjusting my binoculars just as Kamryn stands up.

Wait.

She hugs somebody.

I squint harder, my pulse kicking up as I strain to figure out who the other person is. It’s not until they part that I see her straight on.

Arnelle.

The fucking ex-girlfriend.

I can’t even believe this shit. Commenting on posts is one thing, but meeting up?

My grip on the binoculars tightens until my fingers ache.

They’re talking. Laughing .

My molars grind together so hard my jaw clicks. I bet they’re talking about me.

Girl, lemme tell you about this new bitch Ace brought to the cookout…

Yeah.

Kamryn has to go. She crossed a line.

I settle against my seat, letting my head fall back. After a few deep breaths to calm myself, I think.

I can’t kill her.

Ace said they’re like twins, which means he loves the bitch, and I’m not in the business of hurting him. Not emotionally, anyway. So that’s out.

For now.

I was always gonna punish her for her mean girl bullshit. But now?

She betrayed me, and the punishment has to fit the crime.

Faith is still here when I get home.

She’s a sweet girl. A little frumpy, but sweet.

I step into Daddy’s room just as she’s rolling him in from his bath. The air smells like it always does—wrong. Like soap trying to mask decay. Like something dying slowly but still hanging on out of spite.

Daddy’s eyes widen like he’s surprised to see me. I’m sure he was relieved when he thought he’d escaped my presence today.

“Oh! Hi, Ms. Raya,” she chirps. “Bath is all done. I was just getting ready to bring in his dinner.”

I smile at her. “You know what? I can do it. Why don’t you go on home?”

Daddy stares up at Faith, his eyes wide and pleading, but she mistakes that for affection the way she always does. I’m sure that’s the case for all of her other patients, but not for Daddy.

For him? It’s fear.

“Well, okay,” she says slowly. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.”

She engages the brake on Daddy’s chair and gives his shoulder a pat. “It’s all warmed up, you’ll just need to plate it.”

“Will do,” I say. “Enjoy your night.”

With a goodbye smile lingering on her face, Faith exits the room. As soon as the door clicks shut, the air changes.

I turn to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. His eyes flicker away, darting toward the window like he’s plotting an escape.

I step closer, dragging my fingers along the armrest of his chair, feeling the worn-down leather crack beneath my touch.

“So…how are you ?” I say dramatically. He knows I’m taunting him, but what’s he gonna do about it?

I stare into his yellow eyes and hear Tori’s words echoing in my mind.

Maybe he’s verbal…waiting for his moment…

My eyes narrow. I just can’t see it.

“Okay, don’t tell me,” I tease. “I’ll tell you how I am.” I settle on the edge of his bed. I know it drives him crazy, Mr. No-outside-clothes-on-the-bed. I practice that in my own bedroom, but his is fair game.

“I have a boyfriend,” I say softly. “I’m in love. He’s amazing, Daddy. He’s perfect.”

His yellow gaze drifts to the wall behind me. I turn and check, because being in here is always creepy, but there’s nothing there. Of course there isn’t.

I lean forward and lower my voice. “There’s just one little hitch. His family is trash. Not like ours is, because why would I jump out of a frying pan into a fire?” I laugh bitterly. “They suck in a different way. But I’ll handle that soon. It’s the only way to get Ace to marry me.”

He flinches, because I think he understands exactly what that means.

“Anyway,” I say, stretching my arms lazily above my head. “Tori will be here in a couple of weeks. Isn’t that exciting?”

His eyes slam shut.

“Aww, you don’t wanna see your little sister?”

No response.

“Don’t worry. It’s not about you this time.”

I snicker as I leave the room, knowing that’ll probably make him fill his diaper for the evening.

Oh well.

Not my problem.

Faith left the chicken pot pie on the stove. I transfer it out of its carton and into a bowl, then deliver it, and a spoon, back to daddy’s room.

One of these days, I’ll finally be rid of him.