Tonight, I closed my eyes and let sleep pull me back under.
For now, that was enough.
19
MEHAR
“Okay, so deposits are up twelve percent from last month,” I said, balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder while I flipped through the ledger. “And we moved almost double the cinnamon roll orders for that corporate event last week. The red velvet with cream cheese frosting? Girl, people are OBSESSED. I had a woman call asking if we could do her whole wedding in just that flavor.”
“That’s my baby!” Zainab’s voice was warm through the phone, but I could hear the tired underneath. Being on house arrest in California, while pregnant, with a murder trial hanging over her head—honestly, I didn’t know how she was keeping it together. I would’ve lost my whole mind by now. “What about payroll? Everyone getting their hours?”
“Handled. How are you feeling though?” I asked. “And don’t say ‘fine.’ I can hear it in your voice, sis.”
She sighed. One of those deep, tired, pregnant woman sighs. “Tired. Swollen. Ready for this baby to evacuate my body so I can stop peeing every twenty minutes. You know she’s using my bladder as a squeeze toy now?”
“Glamorous.”
“Girl, you have NO idea. And don’t even get me started on the heartburn. I had a piece of toast yesterday—TOAST—and my chest was on fire for three hours.”
“But Prime’s taking care of you, right?”
“He’s been… yeah.” Her voice went soft in that way it always did when she talked about him. Disgusting, honestly. In the best way. “He’s been everything. And Yusef is right down the hall. Having them close helps.”
“Good.” I meant it. After everything—and I mean EVERYTHING—my sister had been through, she deserved some peace. Even if it was temporary. Even with everything still hanging over her head. “You just focus on growing that baby and not going into labor on somebody’s courtroom floor. I got things handled here.”
“I know you do.” A pause. “Mehar, I don’t say this enough, but… thank you. For real. For stepping up. For holding it down. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”
My throat got tight. Damn. “Girl, stop. You gonna make me cry in this office and mess up my mascara.”
“I’m serious.”
“I know.” I swallowed hard. “That’s what sisters are for, right? We show up. That’s what we do.”
We talked for a few more minutes—nothing heavy, just regular stuff. How the new espresso machine was acting up. Whether we should add a vegan option to the menu. She didn’t ask about my personal life and I didn’t volunteer anything.
Some things were easier to keep close. I didn’t want to jinx it.
I thought about Thad.
I smiled before I could stop myself. Just thinking about that man made my face do things without my permission. He was… different. Patient in ways I wasn’t used to.
We’d been seeing each other for a couple of weeks now. He always took me out to nice restaurants. Listened to every wordI had to say. He was kind, and beautiful. I felt lucky to have a Banks. My sister found her knight in shining armor in this family and so did I.
I hadn’t told Zainab about him yet. Wasn’t sure why. Maybe because it still felt fragile, like if I said it out loud, the universe would snatch it away. Or maybe I just wanted something that was mine for a little while. My secret. My joy.
I gathered my stuff—purse, keys, phone—and tucked the ledger in the safe. Double-checked the alarm, hit the lights, and headed out the back door into the parking lot.
I was halfway across the lot when I heard footsteps creeping up on me fast.
I turned, but not quick enough. An arm wrapped around my chest and yanked me backward. A gloved hand clamped over my mouth, swallowing my scream.
My body went into survival mode before my brain caught up. I thrashed, kicked, tried to bite through the leather covering my face. But he was bigger. Stronger. His grip was iron as he dragged me toward the shadows. This was precisely why I needed to conceal carry and take personal defense classes.
No. No no no no no. NOT AGAIN.
And just like that, I wasn’t in the parking lot anymore. I was back in that house. Back on that floor. Ahmad’s weight crushing me, his hands pinning my wrists, his breath hot and sour against my face while he took what he wanted.
Be still. Stop fighting. This is your duty as a wife.