I was barely at the jail 20 minutes, when Yanni texted me: Stop the fuddieduddie. Jean wants 2 go shopping.

I giggled and texted back: Don’t hate cuz I’m with my man.

“What’s so funny?” Alex asked, switching AJ to his other arm.

“As usual, Yanni is wearing out her text function. She and Jean want me to go shopping.”

“That might not be a bad idea,” Alex said. “It’d give you a chance to do something other than doom and gloom.”

My phone buzzed. Another message: Alex must have some good shit. U ain’t gettin’ none and ur still there.

This time I laughed uncontrollably. “Now, she’s truly hating.”

I slid the phone to Alex, whose face lit up as he read the message. “Tell her if she gives Mase a chance, she might be in the same boat.”

“Mason? What about Rain?”

“Come on, babe, you know how things go between those two. They’re like star-crossed lovers. They’re like Can’t Get Right in the movie Life.” Alex broke into laughter, causing AJ to peek out of one eye, before drifting back to sleep.

“So, you’re saying that Mason might be better for her?”

“I’m saying Mason and Yanni have more in common than they think, and Mason doesn’t have a problem with what Yanni does. Rain has always had difficulty with that, and despite him being a solid dude, I think he’ll always have problems with it.”

“Look at you playing relationship counselor.”

“Hey, I do what I can,” he said, smiling. “What are you doing?”

“Texting Yanni your advice.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Why not? Besides, it’s already done.”

“Woman, I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

“I got a few ideas,” I said, standing to leave.

“Damn, is it that time already?” Alex rose, too.

I nodded. “But we’ll be back tomorrow.” As he handed AJ back to me, we stole a quick kiss.

“I’ll try you at seven,” Alex said.

“I’ll try to make it home before then,” I replied.

I left the jail, like I came in—conscious of my surroundings.

I thought I saw an odd car in the lot, as I loaded AJ into the back seat. I stared without staring and noticed that the person pulled out not too long afterwards.

I hopped in the truck and locked all the doors, before calling to solidify the evening plans with Jean. Following five minutes of discussing our inability to stop eating, Jean and I hung up.

I turned on the ignition, placed the truck in gear and edged out of the parking space, at the same time, glancing out my side and rear mirrors. Suddenly, a truck I’d seen a moment earlier came out of nowhere, barely missing us as it sped toward the gate at breakneck speed.

I slammed on the brakes, jarring myself. Normally, I wouldn’t have been fazed but, for some reason, the hair on my neck stood on end.

I watched the truck leave the lot via my rearview mirror. The make and model looked very familiar. Probably just some idiot I figured. 

I continued out of the parking spot, this time being even more cautious. When I hit the front gate, I remembered why the vehicle was so familiar. Eric had driven a 2005 BMW X3 just like it.