Free Between Friends by D. L. Sparks Page A

tiny scar above our right brow.
    My scar came when I was eight years old. I was running and playing out in front of our grandmother’s house. Grammie’s home had a brick wall, which framed the front yard, and I tripped and fell, hitting my head on the edge of one of the bricks. Twin insisted we didn’t match anymore and we had to be the same, even down to scars. So she took Mama’s house key and dug it into her head above her brow until she bled, leaving a scar to match mine. Of course, my mother wanted to strangle her, but I think it was then when she realized that the connection we made in the womb would never be broken.
    I tried to make light of the situation. “So, can I slap you so we have matching bruises?”
    She cut her eyes at me, letting me know she wasn’t in the mood to laugh this off. I couldn’t blame her for caring; after all, she was my sister. I wanted to say something to make her feel better, but I didn’t have the answers myself. Linc had never done anything like this before. This was unchartered territory for everybody; I hated it just as much as she did.
    â€œIdalis, you need to handle this. He’s gone too far.”
    I stood up and made my way to the sink, dumping out the melting ice cubes. “I know, India. And I will,” I assured her.
    â€œI’m serious,” she continued. “He needs to get his shit straight, or it’s a wrap.”
    Her honesty, although appreciated, was starting to annoy me.
    â€œTwin, I understand where you’re coming from. I just need to sort this out with him, which I will do.”
    A few moments later we heard the soft chime of the alarm notifying us that the front door had been opened. My body tensed as India stood in the doorway of the kitchen.
    I heard Linc’s keys being placed on the table in the foyer and I stood to my feet as he made his way down the hall to the kitchen.
    â€œWhat are you doing here?” India snapped, ready to fight.
    â€œI live here,” he countered. “Fuck you doin’ here?”
    I put my hand on her arm. “India, don’t.”
    She looked at me, then back to him. “I’m going to check on my nephew.”
    We both stood motionless as she disappeared out of the kitchen. Once she was gone, he moved in my direction. I didn’t know if I should run or grab a knife out of the butcher-block caddy.
    â€œIdalis ... I’m ... I’m sorry.”
    I moved slowly and managed to put the island in the middle of the kitchen between us.
    â€œWhat’s going on with you, Linc?” I asked.
    He reached up and rubbed the top of his head. “Man, this case just got me stressed. That’s all.”
    â€œBut you’ve had stressful cases before, and you never brought them home with you. Most of all, you’ve never put your hands on me.”
    He placed his palms on the counter. “I know. But this one’s different.”
    â€œWhy, because of him?”
    I stood there, waiting for an explosion of some sort, but instead he kept his head down. He was hiding whatever truth his eyes might have been holding. I saw his chest expand and deflate as he filled his lungs with air and let it out.
    Silence hung between us, longer than I wanted. I could hear Cameron laughing and what sounded like music coming from the television in the den.
    â€œDo you wanna be with him?” he asked, when he finally spoke.
    This time it was my turn to move toward him. I reached up and placed my hand on the back of his head. “Linc, I’m marrying you.”
    He turned his head and looked down at me. “That’s not what I asked you.”
    â€œTrip is my best friend. We’ve been through a lot together. We have a lot of history. It’s hard to label something like that.”
    He shook his head. “That don’t mean nothing, shawty. Hell, we got history. You still ain’t answered my question.”
    Just then, India and Cameron