“Understood.”
We stood there for a moment, the tension thick between us.
“We should go,” I said, breaking eye contact first. “It’s a three-hour drive.”
Prime’s car was exactly what I expected. Expensive. Sleek. The kind of whip that cost more than a lot people’s homes. What did he do for work? I knew working with Meech couldn’t be paying that much. The leather seats were soft, the interior immaculate. Everything about it screamed money.
Yusef climbed in the back, his eyes wide as he took it all in.
“This is nice,” he said softly.
“Thanks, man.” Prime adjusted the rearview mirror. “You like cars?”
“I don’t know much about them.”
“I’ll teach you.”
I shot Prime a look, but he just smirked and started the engine.
The first hour was quiet. Yusef looked out the window, I stared at my phone, and Prime drove with one hand on the wheel, completely relaxed.
“Do you play any sports?” Prime asked, even though I knew he knew the answer. He had been all up and through my damn apartment.
“Not really. I play chess. And piano.”
“Chess, huh? I play too. Makes you sharp. Takes real strategy.”
“Yeah.” Yusef perked up a little. “It’s like… you have to think three moves ahead. Anticipate what your opponent’s gonna do.”
“Sounds like boxing, too.”
“I guess.”
“What kind of music you play?”
“Classical mostly. Some jazz. I’m learning some R&B stuff too. And I compose my own pieces.”
“You compose?” Prime sounded genuinely impressed. “That’s dope. I mess around with guitar and a little piano.”
“You play guitar?” Yusef leaned forward. “What kind?”
“Acoustic mostly. Sometimes electric. I’m not that good, just something I do when I need to clear my head.”
I turned to look at him, skeptical. “You play guitar?”
“Yeah.” He glanced at me. “Why you looking at me like that?”
“Because you don’t seem like the type.”
“What type do I seem like?”
“The type that breaks into restaurants and threatens people. Not the type that sits around playing guitar.”
His mouth twitched. “People are more than one thing, Zahara.”
I turned back to face forward, my mind reeling. Prime played guitar. Prime offered to teach Yusef boxing. Prime was sitting here having a normal conversation about music like he wasn’t the same man who’d pinned me against a wall in my own kitchen.
“I could show you some stuff,” Prime said to Yusef. “If you want. Guitar’s not that hard once you get the basics down.”
