Page 24

RIOT

The windows were down, letting in the cool breeze as we drove through Jersey toward Mama’s house.

The late morning sun kissed the edge of the sky, but the air still had a slight bite to it—just enough to keep you alert.

My hand rested on the wheel, fingers tapping to the low thump of the music while Allure sat next to me, legs crossed, staring out of the window, taking in the scenery.

She looked like freedom in the passenger seat. Hair twisted into a loose bun, gold hoops catching the sunlight, bare legs flowing from that pretty pink dress.

“How are you liking your new phone?” I asked, glancing her way.

She looked up, eyes gleaming. “I’m a little overwhelmed. I’m catching up on ten years of life.”

“Yeah, a lot of shit has gone down since you were locked away. So you had no access to anything?” I questioned.

“Only via Irina. She would come over and show me things on her phone but if her brother or father caught her we’d get in trouble. I feel like I have a lot to catch up on.”

“Yeah, you do. Take your time and whatever you need I got it for you.”

Her presence brought a level of peace to me that I hadn’t had in years. I didn’t want her to leave but I also didn’t want her to feel like she was my captive.

“So what’s the latest music. I need to hear the new shit. Not this old Jay Z you’re playing.” She said referring to Jay Z’s Blueprint album playing in the background.

My brow lifted. “Oh you got jokes. My taste is elite.”

She laughed, soft but real. “My older cousins used to play this. It was already old back when I was kidnapped.”

“And?”

“And that song is old enough to cash out in it’s 401k and retire..”

“It’s a classic,” I said, dead serious.

She snorted, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

I liked this. The way her voice had loosened. The way her shoulders weren’t so tight anymore. She was relaxing, letting me in—inch by inch.

“You always been this mouthy?” I asked.

Her eyes flicked over to me. “Maybe.”

“I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson about that.”

“Oh really? Well, yes I’ve always been this mouthy.”

“I see. I got plans for that pretty mouth,” I let slip out. I wanted to have more restraint with her but I couldn’t. She was so damn fine.

“We’ll see about that. But I used to get in trouble this mouth. My mom said I asked too many questions, never knew when to shut up. And when Boaz first got me, I was mouthy with him. Let’s just say I’ve been backhanded a lot.”

“I swear to God I can’t wait to fuckin’ kill him.” Hearing that he hit her made my chest tighten and my jaw clinch.

“What about your dad?” I asked trying to change the subject so that I wouldn’t fly off the handle.

A shadow crossed her face but disappeared quick. “He said I had a spark. That I was gonna run the world.”

I nodded slowly. “What did he mean by that?”

“He was referring to my talent and ambition.”

“Ambition for what?” I my ears perked up.

“For fashion. I wanted to be a designer.”

“Do you still want that?”

“Of course.”

“Then when shit settles down, I’ll make sure I help you with that.”

“Thank you.”

Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say more, but then she just turned to the window. I know that thinking about her father was hard for her.

We rode in silence for a minute, the wind slipping through her curls, the scent of her lotion threading through the air, vanilla and rose floating to my nostrils.

“So,” she said suddenly, twisting to face me again. “What was your dream job?”

I gave her a look. “You mean before or after I realized I was born into organized crime?”

“Either,” she shrugged.

“I wanted to be a vet,” I said after a beat.

She blinked. “Seriously?”

“Deadass.”

She stared at me for a second, then grinned. “Let me find out big bad Riot wanted to cuddle puppies.”

“Man, I ain’t say all that. I just liked animals more than people.”

“Still do?”

“Some days.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “That’s actually kinda sweet.”

“Don’t go spreadin’ that shit. I got a reputation to maintain.”

“No promises.”

“Real talk, our father used to torture us. And when I was little I had a fear of anything with teeth. He knew that fear and once when I was about 11, he trapped m in a room with a hyena. It was chained to the wall, a mere few inches away from me. It was so close to attacking me but it helped me overcome my fear. I stared at in the eyes and it backed away. From there I knew I wanted to work with animals. But having a father like that made that impossible so I collect them now.”

“Wow, your father was a piece of shit.”

“Yep. But that’s all behind me,” I said as I continued towards my mother’s house.

I glanced at her again. She was leaning her head against the seat, watching me with those big brown eyes, and something tightened in my chest. I didn’t know what the hell this was between us—but I liked it more than I should’ve.

She reached over, turned the music up just a notch. “Okay, fine. I’ll give you points. This particular song is fire.”

Heart of the City was playing now and it was the best song on the whole damn album.

“Told you.”

We exchanged a look that was brief, electric, charged with the kind of chemistry that needed a warning label—and then she turned back to the road ahead.

The mood shifted then. Not heavier, but deeper.

Her posture straightened a little. “Is your mother… nice?”

I hesitated. “She used to be.”

“Okay,” she said softly.

We turned down Mama’s street, and I slowed to a crawl as we pulled into the driveway.

The house looked the same as it always did.

It was grandiose, just like she and my father worked for.

But something about it felt different this time.

Like the warmth it used to carry was flickering.

Weak. Like the place was holding its breath.

If I’m being honest, the warmth faded when my father died.

Allure sat up straighter. “Is this it?”

“Yeah.” I killed the engine and unclipped my seatbelt. “You good?”

She nodded, but I could tell she was nervous. I reached over, gave her knee a squeeze.

“She might be a little… off,” I said. “Don’t take anything personal.”

She gave me a small smile, but I could see her nerves bubbling just below it.

We walked up the path, and before I even reached the door, I could hear her.

Pacing.

Muttering.

I opened the door and found my mother roaming the living room in a worn silk robe, barefoot, hair uncombed and wild around her shoulders like she’d wrestled with her pillow and lost. She looked thinner.

Her usual vibrant brown skin was pale, and her eyes were wild, darting around like she was being followed.

“Mama,” I said, stepping inside.

She stopped. Looked right at me. But it took her a second, like her brain had to catch up to her eyes.

“Riot,” she breathed, walking over and hugging me tight.

I held her, swallowing down the knot in my throat. She smelled like she hadn’t bathed in a couple days plus bitter tea, old perfume, and something medicinal underneath.

“You look tired,” I said gently.

“I am tired,” she said, pulling back. “Tired of this world. Tired of what your father did. Tired of what he left behind. He ruined everything. Took everything I ever loved. All three of my boys. He ruined my three boys!”

I froze.

All three?

She’d never referred to Havoc like that. Not once. She loved him, sure. But she never really referred to him as her. He was always the other son.

I blinked. “Mama, I think you need to see a doctor. Just let me take you. You ain’t been right lately. You’re talking in circles.”

“I don’t need no doctor,” she snapped, pulling away. “I need to be left the hell alone! You think they can fix this?” She tapped the side of her temple. “You think a pill can make it all better?”

Before I could say anything else, her gaze slid past me.

To Allure.

She stiffened.

Everything about her posture shifted. Her face contorted. Her eyes narrowed like she was seeing something or someone else entirely.

“What is she doing here?”

I blinked. “What?”

“What is she doing here?” she repeated, louder this time. “Why did you bring her into my house?”

“She’s my guest. Chill.”

“She’s not a guest! She’s a curse! I know who she really is!”

“Mama—”

“Get her out of here,” she hissed, pointing a shaking finger at Allure. “She’s gonna ruin you. Just like Malia . She’s gonna destroy everything. Don’t you see it? She’s evil!”

Allure froze behind me, her eyes wide with confusion, hurt spreading across her face like ink in water.

“She’s nothing like Malia,” I said, stepping between them. “Where is all of this coming from?”

“I know what I see!” she shrieked. “She will kill you. She will betray you. I see it. You don’t know who she is, Riot. Just like that bitch who lied to you. Just like that girl who?—”

“Mama,” I snapped, loud enough to shake the walls.

She paused, trembling, panting. Eyes glazed.

I turned to Allure, gently guiding her back toward the door.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured. “Just…wait in the car for a minute.”

She nodded, too stunned to speak, and walked outside.

I turned back to Mama, heart hammering.

“You need help,” I said. “You’re spiraling. You’re not sleeping. You’re not thinking straight. You gotta go to the hospital. This shit with Pops has gotten you messed up.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she snapped. “You think locking me up with doctors will fix what he did to me? What you did?”

“I didn’t do shit but try to keep this family together.”

“Well then get out and keep doing that somewhere else!”

I stared at her. My mother. The woman who nurtured me, who used to sing while she cooked, who used to be the anchor when our father was the storm.

Now she was just as reckless and violent.

I left before I said something I couldn’t take back.

If I knew my mother was in her right mind, I’d consider what she said was true about Allure.

But she didn’t know her. She had no clue who Allure was.

I wasn’t listening to her ass because she was out of her fuckin’ mind.

Honestly, since I found out she had no clue about my father being a sick freak, her credibility has been shot.

I love my mother but I can’t trust her anymore.

And right now, I realize that she is sick.

Back in the car, Allure was sitting quietly, hands folded in her lap. I slid into the driver’s seat and sat for a second, trying to gather myself.

“She’s not well,” I said. “I’m sorry you had to see that. Ever since I killed my father and all that shit came out about him, she hasn’t really been the same. At first she was depressed but then it grew into something else.”

“Depravity like that can drive you crazy. I’ve seen a few of Boaz’s girls lose their minds after awhile. He would kill them and discard them like they were nothing. Please get your mother help before it goes too far.”

“I def will. I’m about to hit up my brother now.”

A moment passed then she asked, “Who’s Malia?”

I clenched the wheel. “Someone I’ll tell you about. Just… not today.”

I pulled out my phone and called Creed. He picked up on the second ring.

“What’s up?”

“Mama ain’t doin’ good,” I said, voice low. “This shit with Pops has her slipping fast.”

He was quiet for a beat. “I’ll check on her tomorrow. Maybe talk her into seeing someone.”

“Good,” I said. “We’re gonna lose her if we don’t.”

We drove off in silence, the weight in the car thicker than the Jersey air. I didn’t know what scared me more, losing her, or what losing her might do to me.