Free Boss Divas by De'nesha Diamond

since his release from the hospital and his boyish good looks are transitioning into a handsome man—my man.
    I love him so much that I can hardly breathe—and yet, in the back of my head, a voice lays the blame for my pain at his feet. Tears sting my eyes because, despite it all, I still don’t want to live without him. He is my heart. To deny him and what we have is to deny life itself. To blame him is to blame myself.
    My gaze shifts back up to the ceiling and I will my tears to dry. There’s only one person responsible for all this shit, and that’s LeShelle. I’m tired of asking myself why things keep happening to me, why my own flesh and blood would torture me the way that she has. Because there’s only one answer: she’s evil. Plain and simple. And somehow, some way, I have to stop her. I gotta beat her at her own game.
    BUZZZZZ! BUZZZZ!
    Startled, I bolt straight up in the bed.
    Profit sits up with me and presses a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “It’s all right,” he whispers, sweeping my hair back from my face. “It’s my phone.”
    On the nightstand, his cell phone, set on vibrate, rattles around.
    BUZZZZZ! BUZZZZ!
    He reaches across me to grab it.
    I feel foolish. LeShelle has turned me into some pathetic creature who’s scared of her own shadow.
    â€œYeah. Talk to me,” Profit greets his caller. There’s a long pause. “Momma?” he asks. He listens again and then hops out of bed. “All right. Calm down. Now what happened?”
    Shock blankets Profit’s face.
    Concerned, I go to him. “What is it, baby?”
    He holds up a finger and concentrates on the call. Whatever is being said, it’s not good news. What in the hell could be happening now?
    â€œAll right,” Profit says. “Which hospital are you at?” He looks around the floor and snatches up clothes. “Sit tight. We’re on our way.” He disconnects the call and barks out one order: “Get dressed.”
    â€œWhat’s going on?” I grab my jeans.
    â€œMy mother was kidnapped by some crazy bitch and almost killed tonight,” he says with disbelief.
    My mind zooms to LeShelle. “Fuck.”
    â€œLet’s go!”
    â€œI’m going. I’m going.”
    We dress in record time and we race out of the door. Even as we’re jumping into the car, I can’t get my mind to think straight.
    Profit is a wreck.
    â€œDo you need me to drive?”
    â€œNah. I got this.” He turns over the ignition, and then zooms out of the driveway. “Do you think that LeShelle has anything to do with this?”
    â€œI don’t know what to think.” He’s rattled.
    I squeeze his hand to give him moral support, the same way he did me a few hours ago, but it’s not enough. “It’s going to be okay,” I ramble. “She called so that means she’s all right.”
    He doesn’t respond. Hell, I don’t even know if he heard me. He’s so focused on the road.
    At the hospital, we jet out of the car as fast as we can. The emergency room is choked with people, most looking like they’ve been camped here all night.
    Profit races to the registration desk, tugging me along. “I’m looking for my mother. She called and said that she was here. The name is Barbara Lewis.”
    The chick behind the counter with a phone tucked under her chin remains unfazed and lazily lifts a slender finger, telling us to wait.
    With no time for bullshit, Profit reaches over the counter, snatches the phone out of her hand, and then hangs the bitch up. “The name is Barbara Lewis,” he growls.
    The nurse’s face twists like she’s about to get turned up, but Profit’s look dares her to do it. Her attitude melts away and whatever shit she was about to spit is put on pause. Turning to her computer, she asks, “What’s the name again?”
    â€œBarbara. Lewis.”
    We