Most days silence was his only friend. Not the peaceful kind - the kind that screamed In your ears when the world forgot you existed.
Zion had learned to live like a shadow, present but barely noticed. Black skin, sharp mind, broken past. The world only saw what it feared not what it failed...
He walked like a ghost in his own story.
Love? complicated
Trust? Expired.
Late nights were the worst, the memories would crawl back, his mother's screams and tears, his father's absence. He had learned to be quiet in a loud world. Learned that men like him were not allowed to fall apart. Black, scared and born into a system that never taught him how to heal but how to survive. He had grown up dodging bullet and betrayal not bedtime stories.
Every scar on his body had a name and he never speaks them out loud. Speaking meant remembering. remembering meant feeling. And feelings? that was one thing he could not afford.
He had women, plenty!. But none knew him. They loved the mystery, the muscles, his black long rod, the deep voice that only said what it needed to say. But no one noticed the long nights he stares at the ceiling , his chest hollow, and his heart beating long enough to keep time .
He smoked sometimes . Not to get high but to forget the world sometime. Just enough to make the pain feel artistic. He was just a verse waiting to be understood.
And yet under all that armor, there was a flicker. A small, stubborn flame that refused to die. Hope,it pissed him off. Hope meant he still wanted more - wanted connection, redemption, and maybe even love.
But in his world hope was a risk and Zion didn't trust anything he couldn't control - even himself .
Mama tee! The name rang in his mind. He owed her. she was different. she'd always a light in a place that didn't deserve it. A healer. A watcher. A woman who always saw through bullshit with a look and never needed to raise her voice.
That envelope he gave to alzira, it wasn't cash. It was protection. It held the deed to a property - clean title, no questions. A bakery front in another city. For her, and if she chose too, for alzira . He didn't ask why she needed it, He just knew she would .
He still remembered the day mama tee pulled him off the street, as a teen -blood on his hands and anger in his chest. She didn't ask questions, She washed him up, fed him and prayed over him and told him he was worth it!; no one has ever said that.
He believed it, lived with it, fought for it and now, this was the least he could do.
And then there was Alzira. He hadn't expected to see her - grown, fierce and unapologetic. Walking out that room like a goddess who had bitten out of the fruit and dared the world to watch. Head high, confidence high, shame away, tits full, and that pussy cleanly shaved. she didn't flinch when she saw him instead he looked at him like he was the one exposed.
And maybe - he was.
Her thoughts has lingered in his head , he wanted to touch her, to see that body again, to run his hands over it, to hear her voice fade away, her breath hot and her face flushed.
Zion could handle guns, gangs, betrayal - but this woman? she shook something loose in him. She had mama tee's fire but none of her softeness and that was dangerous.
He shouldn't care.
She wasn't part of the plan, he came here to repay a debt- not catch feelings. He wouldn't allow himself want her. He came for mama tee, fot closure, for old debts and clean slates.
Deep down , he knew he wasn't done with this past.
Alzira stood by the window, arms folded, watching the thin line of dust dance through the sunlight. Mama tee sat in the dining table, envelope in hand, quiet....too quiet.
"Ma" she said finally, walking to the table." you gon' open it or just sit there like it's a bomb you holding!?
" I just can't believe it alzira. I looked for him everywhere. I thought he died ." Mama tee said, her eyes heavy and her hands shaking against the envelope
she peeled it open with slow fingers. Slow pace. Heart racing. Two folded papers. One small key. A flashdrive. and at the bottom a photograph - torn, grainy and old at the edges. Zion, younger, sitting on their porch. Mama tee's hand around him- he looked alive.
Alzira blinked "what the fuck's that?!"
Mama tee smiled, her fingers pulsing on the photo. "that boy used to sleep on my couch when he was a teen. Had fire in his heart and war in his bones. I fed him when no one would . I just don't know what the fuck happened. Why didn't he come in to see me? Doesn't he appreciate everything that I have done for him? I need to see him and question him.
"What type of shitty relationship did u guys have mama? He seemed so proud when he came here. I don't fucking think you need to see him. anyways " alzira scoofed.
" No " mama tee said softly " he's just a man who never healed. The kind of man who withdraws and becomes dangerous. I think there should be an explanation. Alzira I'm gonna invite him for dinner. I think he wants me to make the decision, that's why he puts his number in here."
Alzira picked up the deed. A bakery in full. "Why's he doing this? This ain't just kindness".
" maybe he wanted to reciprocate kindness. His number is in here , what do u think I should invite him to dinner and get to catch up and maybe discuss this? "
Alzira shifted" there's something about him, maybe dark. He's hard to read tho "
" you curious? " mama tee asked
" maybe"
" then take your time. Anyways I'm inviting him, so you guys can get to interact" she said packing up the envelope. " This is such a good thing alzira, if truly that bakery is ours, then there's no damn need for me to keep in contact with your father".
" Damn mama , I don't like you calling Davis my father. I've told you a lotta times. "
Alzira sat still, eyes drifting to the envelope. She hadn't expected this story when she took that envelope to her mama. But now, with Zion's mystery lingering In the air and a key to a past on her table, she felt herself hanging at the edge of something.
she didn't want to fall.
But damn, she wanted to look over.