UNKNOWN
“Excuse me,” I said, stepping into her space. “I couldn’t help but notice you. You gotta be one of the most beautiful women I’ve laid eyes on in a long time.”
She smiled, trying to be sexy. She knew the effect she had on most men and thought I was one of the simps that let her play them. That shy little look was cute, but I saw through it instantly. Innocent wasn’t her lane. Women like her learned early how to survive off attention and how to use it.
“Thank you,” she said, twisting a finger through her long pink hair, her eyes flashing the moment she took me in. Already thinking she might have hit the jackpot tonight.
“Let me buy you a drink,” I spoke.
She laughed under her breath and leaned back slightly. “A drink?” Her eyes slid toward her friends. Three girls pretending to dance but listening to every word. “You don’t see my friends standing here with me?”
I smirked. She was testing me. I caught the waitress before she could pass. “Two bottles of whatever they want and put it on my tab.”
That really got all their attention. A group full of gold diggers not knowing the monster their friend had dug up. The music didn’t stop, but the energy shifted. Her friends’ eyes widened. Imani’s gaze snapped back to me, slower this time, like she was reassessing the whole situation.
“Now,” I said calmly, “that I got your homegirls covered can I get you that drink?”
She bit her lip, pretending to think about it. Then she placed her hand in mine.
I led her toward the back away from the lights, her friends and the noise. I felt her hips sway a little extra with every step, like she was trying too hard to keep me locked in.
She didn’t know the truth. I wasn’t here for fun I was here for her. We slid into the bar stools. I leaned back, studying her.
“Jackson,” I said, extending my hand.
“Imani,” she replied with a giggle, slipping her fingers into mine.
I brought her hand to my lips, kissed the back of it slow. Feeling her overly oily skin, and at that exact moment I felt her pulse jump. Got her.
“Imani,” I said, eyes never leaving hers. “That’s a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”
I didn’t let go. Truth was, I could break her fucking knuckles right there if I wanted to. End everything before it even started.But this job didn’t require noise. I was supposed to be in and out, making sure not to leave a trail.
“You look so familiar,” she said, eyes narrowing like she was digging through memories. “You from around here?”
“Nah,” I replied smoothly. “But I got family on this side of town.”
She hummed, studying me harder. “Anybody I might know?”
“I doubt it.” I shrugged. “They real quiet. Keep to themselves.”
A half-truth. She knew exactly who my people were. But tonight wasn’t about family names or old reputations. Tonight was about redemption.
“What you drinking on?” I asked, already lifting a finger to catch the bartender’s attention.
She leaned closer, voice dropping low as if she was telling me a secret. “Sex on the Beach.” She smiled, biting her lip like she was daring me to misread her.
Thirty seconds. That’s all it took. I could already see how this played out how she played men. Females like her thought flashing a smile and hips was power. Thought the clothes, the jewelry, the bottles meant they’d won something. Disgust curled in my gut because she thought I was a mark. Thought a few bottles for her friends meant I was soft and like always she thought wrong.
“Anything for you?” the bartender asked.
I shook my head, slipping her a bill as our eyes met. No words needed. Barbie knew the drill. She tucked the money away with a nod, already moving like nothing happened. That’s how weworked; quick, clean, and quiet. No big scenes. No questions asked because there could never be any loose ends.
Imani smiled at me again, clueless, tracing the rim of the glass like she was already feeling the effects of the pill Barbie slipped in her drink.
And I watched her the way a hunter watches prey. I sat there nodding, pretending to listen, while Imani ran her mouth about all the places she wanted to see. Paris, Dubai, somewhere warm where people laid out on boats all day soaking up the sun. She talked about designer bags, exclusive boutiques, private flights nothing that couldn’t be bought, nothing that mattered.
Materialistic and selfish. Exactly the kind of grimy female I pictured her to be. Women like her didn’t change. They just learned how to hide the dirt better. And even if she could change, it didn’t matter. She’d already crossed the line the moment I found out she had her hands in Stormi’s shooting.
