His face staled but he snatched the spoon to eat a few bites before handing it back with an exasperated look that told her; she was doing too much. Against her reservation about it, she dug in, hating the moan that followed since it praised a woman who wasn’t fond of her and vice versa.
“Good?” Relic confirmed. Her expression soured, but she nodded, evoking a full-blown laugh from him.
That infrequent sound blanketed her and then settled in her chest, and she stored it away like every other piece of him that she’d soon miss. Relic rendered her speechless when he planted a quick peck on her lips that sent Jahleel into a fit, making himbounce on his toes while he pointed an accusatory finger their way. Her cheeks heated.
“See, I knew you was his girlfriend!”
“Mind your business and scale that fish,” Relic stated, leaning on the island before angling his body so his son or brothers couldn’t ear hustle. “Rocco is grabbing whatever you need from your apartment to bring here tomorrow. I know you don’t know him like that, so Drish will watch to make sure he doesn’t take anything since he can’t help. I’ll rent a storage unit for the furniture you want to keep. You aren’t going back there.”
Her flushed cheeks lifted. “Relic, are you asking me to stay here?”
“I’m telling you. We can’t be sure who else may know or who Lomar told where you live. I can keep a better eye on you here. You also need a post office box for your mail. You don’t want to miss anything important being sent to your old address. Jah, what you need me to do? You’re the boss today, jimo.”
Relic dismissed their conversation with that, yanking off his shirt to toss in her lap before he rounded the island to where his son and brothers were. Kennedy allowed his intimation to settle in before the checks she received every month drifted to the forefront of her mind. Their first run in at Shabu’s gala, where she’d mentioned to him the cost of her hospital and therapy bills, followed. The connection to that, and her being collateral damage, clicked like she’d found the final combination number on a safe.
She gnawed her inner cheek with her brain reeling as she tried to decide whether that sordid truth placated her or sprinkled salt on her exposed wounds. Her gut tanking was her answer, but she forced herself to eat her while her thoughts wandered to that lesson Lexi gave her regarding Relic.
Don’t waste time trying to change him or make him fall in love. Get in, get the money, and get out.
Since shootingLomar in cold blood, catching wind of Ezekiel’s possible disloyalty, and finding out about Relic’s duplicitous behavior; Kennedy had wallowed in self-pity for too long. She’d cried herself to sleep for nights on end, and allowed her emotions to play with her heart and mind like a game of tug of war until being dragged through the mud by the victor. Being a weak bitch had exhausted her, so that short era was officially dead. Kennedy had moves to make and scores to settle that couldn’t wait.
She sat on a battered couch, observing young niggas pass cups, cough syrup, chasers, and blunts around, while others were more discreet with their drugs of choice, even though she noted their daps lingered in a secret exchange. Those were the ones using pills, or the bullshit she’d seen on Relic’s table, to hype themselves for their forthcoming play. Once Relic gave thesignal to move out, an end was coming to the one-sided beef that kept throwing a wrench in his operation.
Her nose scrunched at the cigarette stench embedded in the couch before she peered around the apartment with her eyes surveying the paint chipped walls, dingy carpet, and wooden table with a book underneath a leg. Kennedy didn’t focus on the upkeep of the apartment long because she had a vital task that required her undivided attention. She was locked in, watching Relic’s back while he was in a room swarming with niggas he couldn’t trust. The biggest fish had come to the pond to play, and the entire gang had come outside to witness it like Relic was a rare art piece at an exhibition.
Her eyes locked on him and Los at a table, with a few other niggas in hoodies and ski masks, loading bullets into semi-automatic weapons. Shabu stood behind his brother, against Relic’s wishes, and that gave Kennedy a tiny sense of relief. As if he knew she was watching, Shabu flitted his eyes at her, chucked his chin, and went back to protecting his brother while sipping from a cup she’d bet her friend would dig in his ass about. With the kind of work he was about to put in, she figured he needed it, so she chose not to give him that reminder.
The apartment door flying open sent her hand darting inside the jacket of her hoodie pocket for her gun that the police returned after she’d requested it and given proof of ownership and registration. Her heart lurched but settled before her eyes rolled when Pierre bopped inside with a double cup in his hand, a sluggish grin, and an impaired Drish on his tail, struggling through the doorway with his crutches.
“Who the hell invited the rejects?” she quipped and then grimaced as boisterous laughter ricocheted around the small space. Kennedy forgot how obnoxious the male species became once they got together.
“Damn, you still ain’t fucking with me yet, boss lady? Why you ain’t mad at Relic? He’s the one who told me to stalk you,” Drish said, pleading his case.
“I don’t like his ass either,” she deadpanned. Pierre sputtered a laugh before patting Drish on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it, gang. I’m on that list, too, but I bet she’ll come around soon. I see you’re still here, Bonnie. I thought you folded on my kinfolk after the last situation. Let me find out, you’re holding strong, and betting on the winning team.”
“And what team is that, Pierre?”
“Whatever fucking team we’re on! Act like you know it, Bonnie.”
His infamous, shit-eating smile made an appearance, and Kennedy blinked, taken aback after noting the drastic difference in his features that she’d initially missed.
“Wow, you actually look decent when you don’t have those gaudy ass grills in your mouth. Why the hell are you hiding a nice of set of teeth?”
“Relic! Yo whatever she is to you, is over here flirting with a nigga! She just told me that I was finest muthafucka in this room!”
“I didn’t even say you looked good, let alone fine. I said decent.”
“That ain’t what I heard,” he stated, sipping his drank with a snort as his folks ambled over to where they were.
Relic stood in front of her, pinning his reprimanding, bright eyes on her while his broad stature obstructed her view. Shabu sat beside her on the couch as Los limped up and shoved his brother.
“Shut your simple ass up,” he said, putting Pierre in a chokehold after his brother tried pushing him back. They tussled as if they were teenagers before Los gave up while boasting,“Plus, she ain’t blind. Everybody knows, I’m the finest one out of the bunch. Ain’t that right, Kennedy?”
Her head snapped back at the random question, and by the slow rotation of Relic’s head in Los’s direction, she was certain she’d have to locate a Priest for an exorcism if the shit spun any further. Los laughed, and Relic’s satanic glower that showed he didn’t find a damn thing amusing, warned her—Relic possessed a level of demons he hadn’t given her the displeasure of meeting yet.
“Why you fucking with him, bro? You know he ain’t over you smashing his other hoes,” Pierre said, dusting off the liquor he’s spilled on his black pullover.
