Page 127 of Certified to Handle You
“I got you, mama,” I replied before tellin’ her I love her, then hangin’ up.
Renza came in not long after with a wheelchair, already lookin’ at me like he knew I was finna say somethin’.
“I ain’t gon’ be pushin’ you around all day, girl,” he muttered.
I rolled my eyes at him but still let him help me up, movin’ careful so I ain’t pull my shoulder the wrong way.
Renza finally wheeled me out the hospital. That bubble I had been sittin’ in for four days was gone, and everything started feelin’ real again, but Renza stayed in my presence, so I couldn’t get too deep in my head. He helped me into the passenger seat, slow and careful so he wouldn’t bump my arm, then went around and got in on his side.
The ride was quiet, but it was cool ’cause I ain’t feel like talkin’.
After a minute, I looked over at him.
“You ain’t gotta put me in no Airbnb or stay with me,” I said.
He ain’t even glance my way, but just kept his eyes on the road like that was the only thing that mattered right now.
“‘Nelle… don’t tell me what to do.”
I ain’t say nothin’ else after that. I just sat back and let the rest of the ride play out until we pulled up to the house.
It was nice too. It was real quiet, and tucked away.
Renza got out and left me in the car for a minute while he handled the front, gettin’ the key out the lock box and goin’ inside.
I watched him through the windshield, saw him move through the house, then come back out and walk around it, checkin’ everything like he needed to make sure it was solid before I even stepped out.
Only after that did he come open my door. He helped me out, kept me close without makin’ it feel like too much and walked me inside.
The house felt good. It was quiet, and felt safe. I ain’t even realize I needed this until I was standin’ in it.
Renza went back out to grab the bags, then came back in and locked the door behind him before settin’ everything down.
I watched him for a second before I spoke.
“How long you plan on stayin’ out here?” I asked.
He ain’t look at me when he answered. He was movin’ around, doin’ what he felt like needed to be done, but his voice came out low and sure.
“Until we find them three niggas who played with you.”
And the way he said it…I knew he meant every word.
Greystone City
Five days later…
Me and ‘Nelle was still at the Airbnb and to be honest, the shit was smooth as hell, especially considerin’ how everything started.
Them first couple days, I ain’t even look at it like time passin’. I just handled what needed to be handled and stayed locked in on ‘Nelle on some bodyguard, witness protection shit.
Every mornin’ started the same way, with me up before her, movin’ through the house, lookin’ over everything outta habit, then grabbin’ my phone to figure out what we was eatin’ for the day.
I wasn’t no cookin’ ass nigga, so I wasn’t about to be in nobody kitchen experimentin’. I kept it simple and ordered what made sense.
“You ain’t tired of orderin’ food?” she asked one mornin’, sittin’ up in the bed with that look on her face like she already knew the answer.
“Nah,” I said, scrollin’ through my phone. “You ain’t tired of eatin’ it?”
