Aku inhaled deep, still she got out. “I had a gut feeling, Malik!”
He turned around slowly, his heart racing at her words.
“It was here,” Aku pushed her hand into her belly. “It told me to get you outta there…Gran
Betty had sad eyes like she was begging me to save her only grandson. Is what I did reckless? Yes. Do I not know enough about blue and red to make those kinds of decisions? No, but do I regret getting you out of there? Hell no!”
“I don’t need you to save me!” Malik shouted.
“And I don’t need you neither, but I want you alive,” she said, tears finally falling. “And I don’t even know what that means yet.”
He grabbed his chest, his head falling back, eyes looking up at the moon. “C’mon.”
chapter 11
. . .
“You got socks on?”Aku leaned against the doorframe, dead serious.
Malik blinked. “Huh?”
“Do…You…Have…Socks…On?” she repeated, slower this time, eyes dropping to his sneakers. “I don’t let people wear shoes in my house, and I need to know if your socks got holes in ‘em. That’s how I judge character.”
He squinted at her. “Wait, what?”
Aku crossed her arms, chin tilted, about to drop some knowledge. “Mama’s say check a nigga’s feet. Daddies say look at his watch.Akusays…check the socks. Are they dirty? Are they mismatched? Do they scream childhood trauma and bad decisions?”
Malik laughed, but tried to hide it. “You deadass?”
“I amsoserious. Socks tell you everything. Like, are you a grown man with your life together or do you still gotta dig through a laundry basket for a match?”
Malik damn near folded over, holding his chest. “Ayo! Cuh, you wild.”
Aku tried to hold her expression, but her lips cracked into a grin. “Let me find out you got a hole in your heel. That’s worse than a felony.”
He shook his head, chuckling as he started unlacing his sneakers. “Damn, you runnin’ background checks at the door?”
She didn’t, but he didn’t need to know that.
“And you barely passed,” she teased, peeking over as he stepped out of his shoes. “They clean. But if I see one toe tryna escape, you gettin’ socks for Christmas…and therapy.”
Their laughter echoed, wrapping around them like comfort. For a second, Crescent’s chaos didn’t exist. It was just them. Her wit, his laugh, and the soft thump of his socks on her hardwood floor as he followed her inside.
Malik took in her space. The cream-colored couch looked comfortable as hell and it smelled like her - sweet and spicy. Nothing was out of place besides a few pairs of heels by the door. The floor to ceiling window in the living room gave the condo the perfect view of Madison Heights.
“This is nice,” he said, after he’d toed his shoes off.
“Thanks. You want something to drink or eat?”
“Nah, I’m cool.”
“What you high on?” Aku tossed out the question that had been lingering in her mind all day when she noticed his red eyes back at the block party.
Like before, Malik ignored her. Instead, he sat on her couch, arms stretched across the back of it. Exhaustion weighed in his eyes. He allowed his head to fall back and his eyes to close.
Aku eased over to the couch, straddling his lap. Her fingers found his scalp, rubbing circles to ease the tension she couldn’t physically see, but knew was there. “Talk to me?”
“Nothing really to say.” His hands were on her hips now, keeping her there in case she decided to get up.
