I hardly watched the skirt rise up her thighs. Couldn’t. Didn’t need to stare at my weakness while she tried to explain away what she’d done.
“Montana—”
My look shut it down.
As I closed the door, Martinez’s words echoed.
Saying not everyone heard? What an excuse? In a game ofbig bank take little bank, the execs who listened could’ve left the others penniless. These dudes controlled most of it.
I sighed while strolling around the car. “You shoulda been grateful, Big Country.”
Zuri stepped up to the plate.Confidentlyswung at wild pitches, not about to let a single bad throw slide.
Behind the wheel, my peripheral vision consumed her.
I wouldalwayssee her. She was just that sophisticated even as she fidgeted a leg.
“Zuri, you said too much.Told my story.”
She nodded, swallowed. The shine in her eyes only grew. Her leg was on the run, tapping against the center console. She wanted to argue and say she did it for me. A part of me believed it. Trusted her.
But that was the issue.
I’d trusted her more than she trusted me.
The boy who watched his mother cry in silence. Who shoved a deadbeat on instinct. He felt exposed. Stripped. Naked in front of rich dudes who never tasted this history.
And naked in front of her.
I’d never laid my heart bare to a woman.
Hadn’t tried to.
Zuri snuck in.
The girl had me whipped.
She knew my story. Those hands had rubbed me softer than abutterball turkey. I’d told her everything. Didn’t end the conversation when she asked how I got stabbed. Nothing had been off the table but Ezekiel and my nephew. And I didn’t know a damn thing about her except for what she shared.
Half figured I was aware of her real occupation because of the old man at HC&PP. Observation told me that. Not her.
Once my silence suffocated her long enough, she’d fill it with her truth. Had to.
The next day, first class smelled of leather and the champagne I’d need to survive this flightwhilestill prescribing Zuri the silent treatment.
I sank back, hoodie up. Jaw locked. The boardroom scene still on my mind.
For the first hour? No issues. Zuri slapped each page of the complimentary airline magazine as if begging me to remove the AirPods.
I cranked the music. Caught a headache. I flicked a glance at her from the corner of my eye, then pressed the side button to turn off my iPhone in my sweats.
With a discreet head tilt, I got the attendant’s attention.
The Latina approached with a smile.
“Y’all got Tylenol?” I whispered.
“Sir?”
