And I was just getting started.
8
MEHAR
“You sure you’re ready for this?”
Serenity was leaning against the kitchen island in our penthouse, coffee in hand, watching me closely.
“No.” I grabbed my keys off the counter. “But it doesn’t matter. Zainab needs me to be ready.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I stopped. Looked at her.
Serenity and I had gotten close these past few months. Two women running from different demons, finding each other in the wreckage. She’d lost her marriage, her baby, her sense of self. I’d lost… everything I thought I knew about who I was supposed to be.
We understood each other in ways most people couldn’t.
“I’m not ready,” I admitted. “But my sister’s locked up for something she didn’t do, and her bakery is sitting there. She has employees she doesn’t want to let down. And her dream can’t die. I won’t let it.”
Serenity nodded slowly. “Then go hold it down. But call me if you need anything. I mean it.”
“I will.”
I’d been working side by side with my sister the last several months, helping her execute her vision. I needed something to do after my marriage imploded. Just like her, I had no education so I got my G.E.D. and now I’m working for her. I have other dreams. I still want to go to college and start a business but for now I’m dedicated to Zainab.
She and Prime showed up for me and got me out of a bad situation. And then Serenity has become like a sister to me. We met months ago and instantly bonded.
Although sometimes she is reckless and wild as fuck. She’s still working for Brick City Crew underneath Mega, whom she also fuckin’. Mega is cool but he’s a lil crazy for my taste. The organization was dangerous but with Shadow aka Rashid out the way, things had simmered down.
There was just one problem. I glanced over at Serenity as she pulled out the white powder and sprinkled it on the counter. She then pulled out a hundred dollar bill, rolled it and snorted the line.
“You want some?” She offered, as she always did.
I can’t lie. I’ve tried it a couple of times, especially on nights when we went out to party. But she was more habitual with it. And that was starting to make me nervous.
“I’m good, girl. The only pick me up I need this morning is caffeine. And there’s plenty of it at Sweet Zin.”
“I feel you. I just wanted a lil hit because I was up all night doing accounting. I’m so tired. Working the books for a criminal enterprise is a lot different than what I was doing at Banks Reserve.”
“I bet,” I smirked. I’ve already said my piece to her on how I wanted her to go back to her brothers but it started a fight between us. I wanted peace, so I knew not to say anything again.
I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my purse. I was almost to the door when she called out: “Mehar?”
“Yeah?”
“She’d be proud of you. Zainab. For stepping up like this.”
“I hope so.”
Sweet Zin waseverything Zainab dreamed it would be.
Pink and red everywhere. Retro vibes—checkered floors, vintage light fixtures, little café tables with fresh flowers. As soon as you walk in, you can’t help but smile. She’d poured her whole heart into this space, and it showed in every detail.
But the thing that got me every time was the photo by the front door.
Zainab and Zahara. Maybe ten years old. Matching ponytails, big smiles, arms around each other like nothing could ever separate them.
