“Come on, baby,” I muttered, trying her phone again. “Pick up. Please pick up.”
Voicemail.
I slammed my hand against the steering wheel. “FUCK!”
My phone rang. Unknown number.
I answered so fast I almost dropped it. “Hello?”
“You have a collect call from an inmate at the Los Angeles County Jail. To accept the charges, press one.”
My heart stopped.
I pressed one.
“Prime?” Her voice was small. Broken. Nothing like the strong woman I’d left a few days ago.
“Baby. Baby, I’m here. What happened? Where are you? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”
“I’m in jail.” She was crying. I could hear it in every word. “They arrested me. I violated my bail.”
“What? How? Why would you?—”
“Someone sent me a text.” Her voice cracked. “A picture of Yusef at the mall. They said they’d been watching him. Said if Ididn’t come to this motel alone, they’d hurt him. I tried to call you but you were on the plane. I tried Quest, Justice, Mehar—nobody answered. I didn’t know what to do. I thought they had him, Prime. I thought someone took him.”
The pieces clicked together in my head. The text. The photo. The trap.
Someone had set her up.
“It was a setup,” I said, my voice flat. “They lured you out.”
“I know that now.” She was sobbing. “I got there and the room was empty. And then the cops showed up. And then Yusef texted me saying he was home. He was fine. He was never in danger. And I’d already—” She couldn’t finish.
I wanted to punch something. Wanted to kill someone. The rage was building in my chest like a volcano about to erupt.
But I couldn’t let her hear that. She needed me to be calm. To be strong.
“Listen to me.” I kept my voice steady, soothing. “You did what any mother would do. You thought Yusef was in danger, and you went to save him. I’m not mad at you. You hear me? I’m not mad.”
“But my case?—”
“Fuck the case. We’ll figure it out. Camille’s already on it. She’s flying to LA tonight. We’re gonna get you out of there.”
“What if they don’t give me bail again? What if I have to stay here until the trial? The baby’s due in?—”
“I’m not gonna let that happen.” I meant it with every fiber of my being. “I will burn this whole city down before I let you have our baby in a jail cell. You understand me? I’m gonna fix this.”
She was quiet for a moment. Then, softly: “I love you.”
“I love you more. Now get some rest. Take care of yourself and my baby. I’ll be there first thing in the morning for visitation.”
“Okay.”
“Everything’s gonna be okay, Zainab. I promise.”
We hung up, and I sat there in my car, parked on the side of the road, trying to keep from exploding.
Someone did this.
