"You straight to go in by yourself?"
She looked at me, and I already knew what she was about to say before she said it. "Can you come in? Just... just for a little bit. I don't really wanna be alone right now."
I cut the engine. "Yeah, fasho. I got you."
We got out and I walked with her up to the front door. She fumbled with her keys a little, the pain meds making her movements slower, so I took them from her and unlocked the door.
"You can sit," she said, gesturing to the couch. "I'ma go change real quick."
"You need help wit' that?"
She paused, then shook her head. "Nah, I got it."
She disappeared upstairs and I sat down on the couch, looking around. There was a picture of her, Yah-Yah, and Yatta on the side table, they was younger, All of them smiling. I knew their story, what they'd been through. Sosa had told me bits and pieces.
A few minutes later, Ya'Mya came back down wearing a big t-shirt and some shorts, her braids pulled up into a bun. She'd taken off her jewelry and washed her face. She looked more comfortable now, but I could still see the pain in the way she moved.
She sat down next to me on the couch, closer than she needed to.
"You want some water or somethin'?" she asked.
"Nah, I'm straight. What about you? You take some meds?"
"Yeah, at the hospital. I’ll take more in the morning."
"Aight, bet."
We sat there for a minute, neither of us saying anything. Then she spoke up, her voice quiet.
"Thank you for coming back for me."
I turned to look at her. "Man, you ain't gotta thank me for that."
"Yes I do. You didn't have to—"
"Ya'Mya." I cut her off, my voice firm but not harsh. "I wasn't finna leave you there. That ain't even up for discussion."
She looked down at her hands, picking at her nails. "Rah did."
"'Cause Rah a whole bitch." The words came out harsher than I meant, but fuck it, it was true. "And you need to dead that shit wit' his lame ass."
She looked up at me, surprised. "Trigg…"
"Nah, I'm dead ass. You too good for that nigga. You smart, you fine as fuck, you got your own bag. And he out here bumming bread off you? Running out on you when shit get hot?" I shook my head. "That ain't the type of nigga you s'posed to be fuckin' wit'."
"And what type of nigga am I supposed to be fucking with?" She was looking at me different now, her eyes searching mine.
I held her gaze, feeling that pull between us getting stronger. "One that ain't gon' run when shit get real. One that know what he got and ain't gon' play wit' it."
"You talking about yourself?"
I smirked a little, my dimples showing. "I might be."
She bit her bottom lip, and I felt something shift in my chest. The way she was looking at me, vulnerable but wanting, hurt but hopeful.
It did something to me.
"Trigg..." Her voice was softer now. "Can you stay the night with me? I really don't wanna be alone."