I slammed the door in his face so hard the walls shook.
Rich threw his hands up. “Man, fuck these pigs talkin’ about?”
Stormi was pale, silent, gripping the railing like the world was tilting.
I pulled her into me and kissed her forehead before leading her upstairs. “I gotta call Jacks.”
“I don’t know what this is, but we’ll get it straightened out,” I whispered, even though anger pulsed through me like fire.
“Seth… you sure?” my mom asked from the bottom of the stairs, eyes glassy, voice breaking.
I turned back to her. “Ma, I’m good. We good. Go eat breakfast.”
But the worry on her face followed me up each step. And deep down I knew shit was about to get real. Stormi walked with me all the way to the bedroom without saying a word, closing the door behind us while I was already dialing Jacks. My thumb hadn’t even left the screen before his voice came through.
“Hey.”
“Meet me down at the police station,” I said, not even bothering with a hello.
“Yeah, what’s the problem?” His voice sharpened instantly.
“Police say they got some questions. Missing boy I’ve been threatening.” I kept it short, clipped, because the last thing I needed was Stormi reading between lines.
“I can meet you there in thirty,” he said.
“Bet.” I hung up and turned around.
Stormi was on the edge of the bed, legs crossed, her worry written all over her face. One look at her and my chest tightened. I pulled her into me, arms locking around her waist like I could shield her from every damn thing.
“We good,” I said low.
“You sure, Seth?” Her voice cracked just a little enough to hit a nerve. The last thing I needed was my wife doubting me or showing it.
“I promise.” I pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering there longer than I meant to.
I headed into the closet, grabbed clothes, and hit the shower. Water beat down on me, but it didn’t wash away the irritation running hot through my blood. I had the whole damn department on payroll, yet two counterfeit acting detectives dared to pull up at my house like they forgot who ran this side of the city. And now they wanted a conversation they had questions about a nigga who was lucky to still be breathing the same air as me and my family.
When I finished, I found Stormi and the boys in their playroom. S3 was glued to cartoons; Stormi was rocking gently, nursing Shiloh, her eyes somewhere far past the walls of the house.
“I’m about to head out,” I said, leaning against the doorway.
Her gaze lifted slow, like she’d been pulled from underwater. She nodded at S3, and he sprinted over, wrapping his arms around my legs before darting back to the TV. Stormi stood, careful with Shiloh, and motioned for me to follow her into the nursery. She laid the baby down in his crib, brushed his little curls once, then turned to me.
“Seth, something doesn’t feel right about this.” Her brows pinched, lips trembling at the edges like she was fighting to keep calm.
“Everything will be okay. I’m gonna handle this, then I’m coming right home to you and the boys.” I caught her hands,kissing them one at a time, hoping it eased even a piece of fear weighing on her.
“You promise, Seth?”
“I promise, ma.” I pulled her in and kissed her deep, my tongue sliding past her lips just as her fingers curled into my shirt like she didn’t want to let go.
“Let’s ride,” Rich said, slapping the wall as he walked into the nursery.
Stormi jumped slightly, and I stepped in front of her, shooting him a look; half warning, half let’s move.
He was ready to get this over with, same as me. We had bigger issues. My family’s safety being the first, and Dre needing to be buried being a close second. And now this police station bullshit was just more weight on top of an already overflowing pile. I kissed Stormi one more time and walked out, my jaw set, my mind already preparing for whatever the hell waited for me on the other side of those badge stamped doors.
Chapter
