“I was upfront from jump,” Quest continued. “Told Camille and Lyric both—I’m poly, I don’t do kids, and I don’t toleratecheating. Those were my terms. Non-negotiable. They agreed. Signed up willingly. And then Camille went behind my back and violated every single boundary we set.” He shrugged, but I could see the hurt underneath. “So I threw her out. Simple math.”
“And Lyric? How she handling it?”
“She was standing right there when it happened. Saw the whole thing go down.” He snorted. “She’s still around. For now. But honestly? I don’t even know if I want her there anymore. The house is a mess, she’s always out at some party, and I’m starting to feel like I’m just a wallet with a heartbeat to her.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah. Damn.” He glanced at me. “But that’s my shit to figure out. What about you? How’s Zainab holding up?”
“She’s strong. Stronger than me, honestly. I couldn’t imagine being pregnant with an ankle monitor, can’t leave the house, facing a murder charge for something shit I ain’t do. But Goddess is holding it together. Still taking care of Yusef. Still making sure everybody else is good.” I paused, feeling something soft crack open in my chest. “She gives me hope, man. For a long time, I ain’t see nothing in my future but death. Killing or being killed. That was the only ending I could picture for myself. But Zainab… she makes me want to live. Makes me want to build something. Be something.”
Quest nodded slowly. “I know you love her. And she’s gonna beat this case. We’re gonna make sure of it.”
“Camille still handling it?”
“Yeah. She knows what happens if she fumbles.” His voice dropped into something colder. “I made the consequences very clear.”
I didn’t ask for details. Didn’t need to. Quest could be just as terrifying as me when the situation called for it—he just wrapped it in better packaging.
“Speaking of consequences,” Quest said, turning down a tree-lined street. “India Coleman. What’s the play?”
“We’re gonna have a conversation.”
“What kind of conversation?”
I cracked my knuckles. “The kind she ain’t gonna forget.”
India lived in a high-rise condo in Navy Yard. Sleek building, fancy lobby, doorman who thought he was protecting important people. The kind of place you moved into when you were fucking the mayor and wanted everybody to know you’d made it.
Too bad all that security couldn’t stop two determined niggas with the right connections.
Quest knew a guy who knew a guy who knew the building manager’s weakness—gambling debts and a taste for women he couldn’t afford. Sixty minutes and a few bribes later, we had a key to India’s unit and the security cameras on her floor were experiencing “technical difficulties.”
The apartment was nice. I’d give her that. Modern furniture, floor-to-ceiling windows, a ridiculous waterfront view. Vivica was taking care of her little side piece real good.
“Yo.” Quest’s voice echoed from the kitchen. I heard cabinets opening and closing. “This woman ain’t got shit to eat in here. No snacks, no leftovers, no nothing. The refrigerator got bottled water and some expired yogurt. That’s it.”
“We ain’t here to eat, Quest.”
“I know, but damn. A nigga hungry. What does she survive on? Photosynthesis?”
I smirked. “Our mother’s pussy.”
Quest made a sound like a cat coughing up a hairball. “Nigga! Why would you— I did not need that image in my head!”
“You asked.”
“I didn’t ask for that! I didn’t ask for anything close to that!” He came out of the kitchen looking genuinely traumatized. “I’m gonna need therapy now. You paying for it.”
“Send me the bill.”
We posted up in the living room—me in the chair facing the door, Quest leaning against the wall by the window. The sun was starting to set, painting everything in shades of orange and red. It would’ve been beautiful if we weren’t here to ruin somebody’s life.
Twenty minutes later, we heard it. Keys jingling. The lock clicking open.
India walked in on designer heels, designer bag swinging from her arm, phone pressed to her ear. “No, I told them the budget proposal needs to be revised before the council meeting. If they can’t get the numbers right by?—”
She flipped on the light.
