“Looks like it,” I said, stretching out and kicking my feet onto the ottoman. “Nai’s still digging and trying to get names. Shouldn’t be much longer.”
“What about who shot you?”
“She thinks it’s them Eastland niggas. But I want to be sure before we move on to them.”
Jelani frowned and then snapped his fingers as something clicked. “I used to talk to a chick out that way. Let me holla at her and see if she knows something.”
I gave him a look. “Why the hell you messing with a bitch from over there?”
“She’s pretty, got a fat ass, and sucks a mean dick,” he said, ticking off each point on his fingers. “What can I say?”
I shook my head as my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Fontaine: Jerome said he just seen your nurse walk into Blue Sky with some square looking nigga.
Bet.
“You talk to that nurse?” Jelani asked, switching the subject. I frowned.
“How I’m supposed to talk to her without her number?”
He held up both hands, laughing. “You mad, bruh? Why you actin’ like Fontaine can’t hack the damn planet and get you her info?”
“She’ll give it to me,” I muttered, slipping my phone back in my pocket.
Jasmine seemed stubborn, but the way she was squirming in my lap at the party? She was definitely feeling me.
“So youarestalking her!” Jelani teased.
“Whatever, nigga. You all in my shit—what about you? I saw you sucking on her friend’s face at the club.”
“Monica? She cool. I might hit her up tonight,” he said. “Oh—and you know Jasmine’s just here on a contract, right? She’s a travel nurse.”
“Damn, why you know so much about her?” I asked, feeling a weird twinge in my chest that I chalked up to my wound acting up.
“Women talk. Monica and I been texting.”
“Yeah, well, worry about your own shit,” I muttered.
All this meant was that I had to apply some pressure. And lucky for me, that was my speciality.
CHAPTER8
JASMINE MILLER
“I’m reallyglad you texted me,” Amir said as we walked to his car.
“Me too. Dinner was really good,” I smiled at him.
Amir was a dude I’d met on a dating app before I moved to Atlanta, and he was quickly becoming a favorite. Tall, brown-skinned, clean-cut, with shoulder-length locs. He was smaller than what I usually liked, but claimed he did CrossFit—so I figured there was some hidden strength under there somewhere.
He wasn’t flashy and I liked that. Tonight, he had on khaki shorts and a navy blue polo—very laid-back and neat. It suited him. I think he was some kind of software engineer… or maybe he worked for the CDC. Either way, he had a little bit of money and liked taking me out.
He had been on his best behavior all night, and I was pretty sure I was gonna invite him up for a nightcap when he dropped me off.
Amir drove for a few minutes before he pulled into a strip mall parking lot.
“What are we doing out here?” I asked, looking around, confused. The lot was packed, which wasn’t unusual. I quickly learned that in Atlanta, even a Juicy Crab could turn into a club.
