Page 2 of A King’s Obsession

And now I was probably about to spend damn near half of it getting home.

I shoved the money into my purse.

My check wasn’t much better. Between helping Mama with the rent, keeping food in the apartment, paying my phone bill, and everything else that seemed to come up every five damn minutes, my money disappeared before I could enjoy any of it.

Living with Mama was supposed to make things easier for both of us. At least, that was how I kept trying to look at it. We split what needed to be split, I helped where I could, and she was supposed to handle her part. But somewhere along the way, helping had turned into me carrying more and more until I couldn’t remember the last month I hadn’t been worried about some damn bill.

Mama was supposed to handle the electric bill this month.

I’d already given her the money.

At least that was one thing I didn’t have to worry about.

My phone started ringing.

“Finally.”

I snatched it off the counter without looking.

“Montae, I know your ass—”

“Jru?”

I froze.

That wasn’t Montae.

I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at the screen.

MR. HARRIS.

My stomach tightened before I even put the phone back against my ear. Mr. Harris wasn’t the type of landlord who called just to check on you, and he damn sure wasn’t calling close to midnight because he wanted to ask how my day went.

Why the hell was my landlord calling me this late?

“Oh. Hey, Mr. Harris. Sorry. I thought you were somebody else.”

“I figured.” His response was short, and I could hear the irritation in his voice. There wasn't any warmth or small talk, which immediately had my stomach doing something funny.

“You got a minute?” he asked.

I glanced toward Tasha, who was still busy with the register, before turning slightly away from the bar. “Yeah. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been trying to get in contact with your mother.”

I closed my eyes, already feeling the beginnings of a headache.

Of course.

“What she do?”

“It ain’t about what she did. It’s about what she hasn’t done.”

I straightened, slowly sliding onto one of the barstools. Something about his tone told me I needed to sit my ass down before he finished whatever he had called to say.

“What you mean?” I asked, gripping the edge of the counter.

“The rent, Jru.”