Drea

“Well, well, well … if it isn’t Drea.”

I stop in my tracks. The voice is a familiar one that I hoped I’d never hear again.

My heart leaps into my throat as I turn slowly on my heel and come face to face with my past. There stands my Ex in a pair of khaki pants and a dark, long-sleeved T-shirt. His hair has been completely buzzed off, which allows the tattoos covering his neck to stand out. Prison life hasn’t appeared to be kind to him.

I square my shoulders and pretend I’m not scared shitless because Carlos thrives on others fear. “What are you doing here, Carlos?”

His smile, one that I used to love, morphs into an evil grin, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up.

I knew I would have to face him someday, and I imagined what it would be like a thousand times over, but nothing could have prepared me for this moment—a moment I knew I couldn’t run from forever.

He raises his eyebrows. “Where else would I be? This is home, so as soon as I got out, I came back. Some of us don’t run away from where we came from. I should be asking you why you’re here, but I won’t because, honestly, it’s good to see you … real good.” He takes a couple of steps toward me as his dark eyes rake over me. “You look hella sexy in that dress, mami. Those legs make my cock hard. Remember when you used to wrap ‘em around me?”

I hold my hands up. “Stay away from me.”

He stops only a few feet away from me. “Is that how it’s going to be now? Stay away? Really? After all we’ve shared together? You’re my girl, Drea. I told you; you belong to me. Always will.”

I shake my head. “I don’t belong to anyone. We’ve been over ever since the day you got locked up.”

“We’re done when I say we’re done,” he growls as he narrows his eyes at me. “You belong to me. Besides, you owe me.”

“I owe you nothing!”

“You ratted on me. You’re the reason I went to prison!”

“I’m no snitch!” I fire back. “I haven’t told anybody anything about any of your business.”

“That’s not what the word around here is.” He takes another step toward me. “Not only are people saying that you ratted me out, but they’re also saying that you’ve been keeping a secret from me—one you should’ve told me about. Why should I believe you weren’t the reason the cops came to get me?”

“You know me better than that.”

“I really thought you were my ride-or-die, but now, I realize you’re nothing but a liar. The secret you’ve been keeping from me—it’s unforgivable.” He takes another step toward me.

Before I know it, I find my back against the cold brick wall. I’m trapped, and I have nowhere to run.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My usually stern voice wavers, displaying my fear.

The biggest secret of my life is about to come crashing down around me, and the one person I never wanted to know about it knows everything.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Drea, and you had no right to do what you did.”

“You’re talking crazy.” I do my best to play dumb even though it feels a lot like he’s on the right track.

He slowly shakes his head from side to side. “You should’ve thought twice before you took anything from me. I don’t allow others to decide my fate, especially some trashy bitch like you.”

I swallow hard, and I stare into his eyes.

Carlos used to control every aspect of my life. When we got together, I was young, searching for love. When he paid attention to me, even when he put his hands on me, I thought he did it because he loved me. The day he got locked up was the day I changed my life because I was freed from him.

Carlos braces one hand up by my face and then shoves the other one on the opposite side, effectively pinning me in place. “Tell me, Drea, how do you figure we’re gonna fix the situation? I think you should tell me everything.”

“There’s nothing to tell you. You need to leave me the hell alone and walk away,” I order.

“I’m not gonna walk away,” he says. “Not until I take what’s mine—everything that’s mine.”

He traces his index finger down my cheek and along my jawline, and my skin crawls at his unwelcome touch. His finger curls under my chin, and he tips my head up, so I have no other choice but to look him square in the eye.

“Including my son.”

My mouth drops open, and the confirmation of him knowing that we have a son together makes tears well up in my eyes.

“We do not have a son.”

“Don’t lie,” he whispers. “You’re not the type to fuck around, or at least before I got locked up you wasn’t. Everyone around here knows you were knocked up, and I did the fucking math. That baby was mine.”

No.

No. No. No.

My heart races inside my chest and my eyes sting. All I can do is shake my head and do my best to deny his accusations.

His pinches my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You can fix this. Give me another baby since you gave my other one away. Give me a new one, and I’ll forget all about the last one. How about we start right now?”

Carlos leans in to kiss me, and I turn my head, causing his lips to land on the corner of my mouth. I shove against him and whimper.

Carlos pushes my hair back from my ear and growls as he presses himself against me. “Don’t be like that. You know you want this. Don’t pretend like you don’t. You’ve always wanted this, and you always will.”

I shove my hands against his chest as flashbacks hit me like a ton of bricks. The last time I saw him, the night I broke up with him, he forced himself on me and got me pregnant. I won’t allow him to do that to me again.

Energy surges through me as I find the will to fight back. I beat against his chest. “Get off me!”

His eyes harden. “What’s the problem? Don’t you fuck for free anymore? I get it.” His gaze drops down, and his hand moves to my leg, inching its way under the tight spandex skirt I performed in. “That’s what this outfit screams—high priced whore. If it’s money you want, you won’t get it from me. I should make bitches like you pay for my cock and making you come.”

I struggle against him, desperate to break free of him.

“Get your fucking hands off her! Now. Unless you want me to break your fucking fingers off and shove them down your fucking throat.” Laz’s voice cuts through the air and bounces off the brick walls.

My eyes dart over to find Laz seething with his fingers curled into fists at his sides as his eyes remain locked on Carlos’s back.

Carlos pushes himself away from the wall and turns slowly, but he grabs my wrist, keeping me in place. “This has nothing to do with you, homey. Walk away, fucker.”

Laz flexes his fingers. “Not going to happen. The girl is with me.”

“She’s mine.” Carlos tightens his grip.

Laz’s eyes narrow. “I warned you once. Don’t make me tell you again. Let. Her. Go.”

Carlos steps toward Laz, and when he does, he loosens his grip on me for a split second. I seize the opportunity to push away from him and run to Laz.

Laz reaches out and pulls me to his side. “You okay?”

I nod as I cling to his side.

“Drea!” Carlos seethes with anger. “Get your fucking ass back over here. We’re not finished.”

“You are finished, you piece of shit.” Laz steps in front of me, shielding me with his body. “I don’t want any trouble, but so help me, if you don’t walk away—” Laz’s voice rings with authority.

“What?” Carlos challenges. “What are you gonna do about it, you preppy-ass white boy? Do you know who you just fucked with?”

“No, and I don’t give a fuck.”

Carlos waits a long minute, and at first, it feels like he might charge at Laz, but he doesn’t. Laz is quite a bit bigger than Carlos, and it’s not my Ex’s style to go after someone bigger than himself unless he’s sure he can take him. “This isn’t over. I’d better not catch you in my neighborhood.” His hard eyes lock with mine. “I’ll see you around, Drea. You can count on it.”

Before he says anything else, he turns on his heel and retreats.

The moment he’s out of sight, my body relaxes a bit, but I’m still tense. “We need to get out of here. This isn’t a safe place for us to be. The people he runs with all live here and they could come back.”

“Let them,” Laz growls.

His desire to protect me is evident, but I also need to keep him safe too. “You can’t fight them all, and it would kill me if something happens to you because of me.”

Laz stares down at me, his big blue eyes filled with concern. His lips pull into a tight line as he considers what I’ve just said. He nods, but the reluctance in his eyes is clear. “You’re right. We need to go.”

He wraps his arm around me, protectively tucking me against his side, and quickly escorts me back to his car. He opens the door, and once I’m inside, he closes the door, hurries around, and gets into the driver’s seat. Then he locks the doors and throws the car into drive. The muscles in his forearms tense as he grabs the steering wheel.

I can tell a million questions are floating through his mind, but he doesn’t say a word. I feel like I should say something, anything. I owe him an explanation. He stuck his neck out to protect me, and that’s more than anyone else has ever really done for me. In my neighborhood, you don’t stand up for anyone unless you have something to gain from the situation. The only thing I am to Laz is an employee. Sure, we have a weird sexual connection, and our chemistry is off the charts, but it’s a line we’ve never crossed other than the kiss we shared. At this point, we are still in a business relationship.

“Thank you,” is all I can manage to say.

Both fear and gratitude overwhelm me as I think about how close it came to turning really ugly.

I sit in silence and bat away the tears that keep falling from my eyes during the rest of the ride. There’s nothing I can do to stop them now. I’ve held them back for far too long.

Carlos finding out about our son was the biggest fear I had. I knew he would get out of prison someday and that this would be a situation I had to face, but I wasn’t prepared to do that tonight.

Now that he knows about our son, I’m afraid he’s going to go after him and disrupt the happy life that his adoptive family has been building with him. I’ve not been a part of my son’s life because I didn’t want to leave a trail for anyone to find him, and I sure as hell don’t want him to know about Carlos. And I intend to keep it that way.

Neither of us were ready to be parents. I was sixteen years old, living with an addict father and stepmother. They could barely take care of themselves. They couldn’t take care of me, which was why I always had a job to earn my own money. I was the one who kept the lights on in the apartment. I couldn’t imagine raising a baby in there. I wanted my baby to have a better life than I did. And I knew I could not provide that, so I decided to give him up for adoption.

It was the hardest decision I’d ever had to make.

For a moment in the hospital when I held him in my arms after his birth, I almost did a very selfish thing and kept him. He was so perfect, and I wanted him so bad, but I knew I wasn’t good enough for him. He deserved better than me.

When I went to the adoption agency, I filled out that the father was unknown on the paperwork even though that wasn’t the truth. I knew it wasn’t right, but it also wouldn’t have been right to let Carlos know about a baby that he would never take responsibility for.

I sat down with the caseworker and went through file upon file of families wishing to adopt a baby. I picked a couple who had been married for ten years and had tried everything to have babies on their own. They’d even spent money on trying to get a surrogate, which had failed. I knew if they had been willing to spend that much money to try to have a baby, then they would make sure the baby they did get, even if it wasn’t their own biologically, was the center of their lives. I saw pictures of their house, their dog named Buttons, and where the baby would sleep. It was the life I always dreamed about having for myself when I was little kid. These people could provide everything I couldn’t. I could picture his life with them, and I wanted him to have that life—a life I could never give him.

Giving our son up for adoption to a family who had the means to take care of him and who could provide everything that he would ever need was a blessing.

We come to a light, and Laz reaches over and wraps his fingers around mine. “You okay?”

His concern for me causes me to cry harder. I find myself unable to answer him because, truthfully, I don’t know if I am all right. Laz doesn’t push for an answer though. He simply sits in silence, holding my hand, allowing me to cry it out.