Page 11 of A King’s Obsession

I looked down at the notices in my lap, trying to decide which piece of bullshit I wanted to explain first. “We're getting evicted, Ashlynn. And apparently the lights are about to get cut off too.”

“What?” she asked, her voice rising. “How the hell y'all getting evicted? I thought you gave your mama the money for the bills.”

“I DID!” My voice cracked with frustration, and I pressed my fingers against my forehead, trying to keep myself from completely losing it. “That's what I'm trying to understand. I gave her the electric money, Ashlynn. Put it right in her damn hand. Now I'm sitting here looking at a disconnect notice and an eviction notice she apparently thought she could hide underneath the couch.”

Ashlynn went quiet for a moment, and I could practically picture the expression on her face. She'd been telling me for months that I was doing too much, carrying responsibilities that shouldn't have belonged to me in the first place. I hated how often she turned out to be right.

“I've been picking up extra shifts, barely sleeping, and working my ass off trying to keep this place together,” I continued, looking around the apartment. “I can't even buy shit I need because every time I turn around, something else needs to be paid. I'm twenty-four years old, Ashlynn. Why the fuck do I feel like somebody's husband?”

“Because that's exactly how your mama got you living,” she answered, her tone losing its usual playfulness. “And I've been telling you that shit. Jru, you can't keep working yourself to death trying to take care of somebody who won't even meet you halfway.”

I leaned my head against the back of the couch, closing my eyes. I knew she was right, but knowing something and being ready to do something about it were two completely different things.

“You already know what you need to do,” Ashlynn added. “Come with me.”

I rolled my eyes toward the ceiling.

Here we went.

Ashlynn had been trying to convince me to move out of state with her ever since she'd decided she wanted to be closer to Chi, or *her sponsor*, as she liked calling him. I'd never met the man, but from what she'd told me, he was older, had money, and apparently possessed some magical ability to turn my loud-ass best friend into a giggling schoolgirl whenever his name appeared on her phone.

“Ashlynn, I'm not moving out of state with you just because your sugar daddy wants you closer,” I told her, shifting on the couch.

“First of all, don't disrespect my sponsor,” she replied, sounding genuinely offended. “And second, this ain't even about him. I'm talking about you getting somewhere you can actually breathe without worrying about what bill your mama ain't paid this month.”

Despite everything, a laugh escaped me. Only Ashlynn could be discussing my impending homelessness and still find time to defend her mysterious sponsor.

She continued before I could interrupt, reminding me that Mama was a grown woman and I was her daughter, not her husband. According to her, I could move with her, find another job, stack my money, and finally start living for myself instead of spending every check fixing shit I hadn't broken.

The worst part was that she wasn't wrong.

Leaving sounded good. Too good, honestly. But Mama was still my mama, even when she pissed me off. Even when she made decisions that left me cleaning up the mess. The thought of packing my things and leaving her to figure everything out by herself made something uncomfortable twist inside my chest.

I opened my mouth to explain that to Ashlynn when a strange sound came from the back of the apartment.

My head lifted.

“Ashlynn, hold on a minute.”

I sat completely still, listening. At first, I thought maybe I'd imagined it, but then I heard it again. A muffled thumping sound followed by the unmistakable squeak of a bed.

Then a woman moaned.

My eyebrows pulled together as I slowly stood.

“Jru?” Ashlynn called through the phone. “What the hell is that?”

“I don't know,” I answered, already moving toward the hallway.

But I was about to find out.

The closer I got to Mama's bedroom, the clearer the sounds became. Heavy breathing, the bed squeaking against the wall, and Mama moaning like an eviction notice wasn't somewhere balled up underneath our fucking couch cushion.

I stopped outside her bedroom door, my hand hovering over the knob.

Now, don't get me wrong. I knew my mama was a grown woman, and grown women had needs. But something about listening to her get her back blown out while our entire living situation was falling apart was making my left eye twitch.

I pushed the door open.