Page 22 of Ex- Factor

Donte was just getting out of his car when I pulled up into my driveway .

Of course. I rolled my eyes. He had on a fitted button-up like he was coming from a damn photoshoot—arms all flexed, gold watch catching the sun, smile too easy for a man with that much nerve.

He didn’t even look like Eshe’s type. I cut the engine and stepped out.

I thought about staying in the car, but he was already looking in my direction.

I didn’t want him thinking he intimidated me.

“Silas,” he said, like we were cool. Like he hadn’t shoved me at a party full of witnesses. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

I didn’t respond. Just folded my arms and leaned on the hood. He walked over anyway.

“Look, man. I know you think you and Eshe got something right now, but don’t get too comfortable.”

My brow lifted slow. This motherfucker had nerve.

“She always comes back,” he said, like it was fact. “We’ve been through worse than this. She’s using to prove a point.”

I rolled my head on my neck. “You sure you want to say that out loud?” I asked. “You should have kept this to yourself because when it doesn’t happen, it would have hurt less.”

He kept going anyway. “She hates losing. And right now, she feels like she’s winning with you. But it’ll pass. It always does. I paid for her granny’s house, you know that? That car she drives? I bought that too. She doesn’t go nowhere without a piece of me.”

My fists twitched. “You done?”

Donte shrugged, his face all smug-like. I could tell he wasn’t used to being hit. “Just figured I’d give you a heads up. Let you know what’s coming.”

I took a step forward—close enough to smell his cologne. “Let me be clear. If you ever talk to her again, or pull some stunt like showing up at my party, I’ll make sure your medical bills bankrupt you. Then I’ll buy your house and demolish it.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw twitching. “You threatening me?”

“No. I’m promising.”

I heard a car. Out of my peripheral, I saw Eshe turn onto my street.

And maybe I should’ve just walked in the house and pretended this conversation never happened. But I was Silas. And I was petty. And this smug motherfucker annoyed me.

I counted to three, grabbed his hand, and threw myself onto the driveway like Donte had just sent me flying. Flat on my back. I flailed my arms a little for drama.

Donte just stared down at me, hand extended, dumbfounded. “Yo, what the hell are you—?”

Tires screeched. Doors slammed.

“Silas!” Eshe yelled. I could hear her feet pounding against the grass.

She dropped to her knees next to me, hands flying all over my chest and face like she was checking for broken bones. “What did you do, Donte?!”

I coughed once. Weakly. “He pushed me,” I answered, before Donte could get a word in.

Donte’s face twisted—confused, then outraged. “I didn’t—”

“You didn’t what?” Eshe snapped, standing and spinning on him like a storm. “You didn’t harass me for months? You didn’t show up here uninvited? You didn’t threaten my man ?”

“My man,” I repeated from behind her. “That’s me. And you pushed me.” She turned to glare at him, and I flicked him the bird.

His mouth got wider.

Angel choked on a laugh behind me.

“You are so full of shit, Donte,” Eshe kept going, finger jabbing toward his chest. “You can’t take rejection. That’s your problem. I said it was over, and you just... lingered. Like a bad fucking smell. I don’t want you no more, Donte.”

Donte’s mouth closed, then opened again. He blinked like someone had unplugged his brain.

I leaned around Eshe, still lying on the ground. “I told him I didn’t want to fight—because you said I had to be mature instead of kicking his ass,” I added, puppy-sad eyes.

Angel lost it and started full on laughing. “Alright, get up, fool,” she said, grabbing my arm and hauling me off the pavement.

Eshe didn’t even notice we were laughing—she looked like she was about to fight. She kept yelling at him.

Angel looped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me toward the house. “Eshe, bring your ass…” she yelled.

As we reached the door, Eshe caught up and grabbed my other arm like I needed the support.

I looked back over her shoulder. Donte was still standing there, mouth still open. I winked. He sneered.

Eshe slammed the door in his face. “Let me get you some ice, Silas. Your face is all red.”

Angel shook her head as Eshe ran toward the kitchen.

I went to the window and watched Donte stomp back to his car, his expensive loafers kicking up gravel. He yanked the door open so hard the whole car rocked. Before he got in, he turned back toward my house and muttered something to himself.

His engine roared to life, tires screeching as he peeled out so fast his back end fishtailed. A neighbor’s trash can took and angry hit—the plastic lid spinning through the air like a flipped coin before clattering to the pavement.

Angel snorted. “He mad -mad. He’s going to find a reason to beat your ass eventually.”

I grinned, draping an arm around Angel’s shoulders. “I’m going to quote you, baby momma. I wish he motherfucking would. ”