Page 63 of The Perfect Verse

“Let’s just say I want to shake that nigga’s hand for fumbling her, but if he wants to act stupid…” He lifted his shirt, revealing his heat. “And this is registered, but even if it wasn’t, he knows how I’m coming.”

“Fuck him if he moves crazy,” Scooter whispered, looking around. His loyalty would always align with Kaleela, but X was the truth. “You my fucking brother-in-law. He fucks with you, then he’s fucking with me.” A hearty laugh escaped X’s mouth when they slapped hands.

“Babe?” Kaleela pointed at the other wrapped canvas, then lifted one hand.

“What’s that?” Donovan asked. “Hurt my damn back; it was so heavy.”

“Something me and Kaleela painted for the rehab center. I ain’t no Picasso, but it’s a little something we wanted to leave here to remind her where her healing started.”

“Damn, this nigga painting now?” Donovan tittered then extended his fist. “Kaleela, your ass is the truth.” He looked over his shoulder. “Just stay the hell away from my girl. I see why she fell in love with your ass. What the fuck can’t you do?” he jested.

She wanted to tell him not much when she put her mind to it, especially since she was in physical therapy and learning to walk. She was afraid to share her progress, but Scooter had other plans. Once she accepted his proposal, he planned to have her walk down the aisle in front of their friends and family.

She often told him that he was her secret weapon, her motivation to move ahead, even if she had to do it in fear. In his eyes, though, she was his secret weapon, his muse who wrote the lyrics that made the perfect verse.

The End