Page 224

And apparently not one peaceful fucking day left in my life.

“Your daddy tired, man,” I muttered.

Collin slept straight through it.

Lucky little motherfucker.

SAMANTHA

It was 6:50 p.m. and I was pacing around my fucking living room mad as hell.

“Come on, Michael. Shoes.”

“I can’t find the other one.”

“Because you take your shoes off and throw them wherever the fuck you feel like it.”

“It’s under the couch,” Amari yelled.

“Thank you!”

I had Serenity bundled up in her little pink coat, Michael walking around with one sneaker on, Amari halfway zipped into hers, and Xavier Lawless was not answering his fucking phone.

My phone was pressed between my shoulder and ear, ringing for probably the fifth fucking time.

Xay.

No answer.

Again.

I hung up.

“Un-fucking-believable.”

I asked this nigga for one thing.

ONE.

Pick Zion up from football practice.

That was it. I had dinner going, Serenity had been fussy all afternoon, Michael and Amari had already damn near killed each other twice, and all Xavier had to do was pick up one fucking child.

At 6:42, Zion called me.

“Dad ain’t here yet.”

I’d damn near lost my mind.

So now I was getting three children bundled up to drive across Irvington and get the fourth one because their father apparently couldn’t manage the one fucking thing I’d asked him to do.

“Amari, coat.”

“I have it!”

“Put it ON.”

“I’m hot!”