Dane looked just like his ass, and she couldn’t stand it sometimes. Same rich coffee shade, slanted eyes that could look right through you, and now he was almost his height too at only fifteen.
“It’s late. You pop up on me on some weird shit, and I can’t ask questions?”
“I heard you worked here. Saw the light on in the building and your car still out here. Thought I would wait so we could talk. I’m here. A nigga free, and you acting like you ain’t happy to see me.”
“Free for how long, Danilo? Hmm? How can I be happy when I don’t know how long it’s going to last?”
He sucked his teeth and shoved his hands into the pocket of his pants.
“Why you acting brand new? I deserve to see my son. You ain’t bring him to see me, send pictures, put money on my books, or nothing. I went down, and it’s like you forgot about me.”
“I was focused on raising him and trying to keep our heads above fucking water!” Inari spat. “I was in school and serving Mira’s shit since I basically owed her my fucking life after you left me holding it down! Not only did I have Dane, but I also had Lala to think about. You knew that, yet you still chose to be reckless and get jammed up. I did what the fuck I had to do, and yeah… I resented you for it. So, me not coming to check for you was on purpose. Out of sight, out of mind.” She tossed her briefcase into her passenger seat and glared at him.
Danilo didn’t have a response. Instead, he nodded and flicked the tip of his nose.
“Yeah, well, I talked to Mira. You owe me. You made shit good with her and kept your ass in the game.”
“Yeah, well, when I got what I needed, I got the fuck out.” Inari reacted, mimicking him. “Unlike you. I’m square with Mira.”
“But you ain’t square with me,” he growled, grabbing her by her arm and yanking her to him.
Before Danilo had time to raise a hand to her, she had her .22 in his chest. Like she was scorching hot, he jumped back, but Inari didn’t budge.
“Don’t put your fucking hands on me again, nigga.”
“You wouldn’t have shit if it wasn’t for me, Nari! Remember that! Me getting jammed up was the best fucking thing to happen to you. You bossed up, and now look at you. Got a nice car. Heard you renovated your parents’ entire house. Out here in designer pantsuits and red bottoms. Life treating you well.”
“Yeah, and I did all that shit on my own because you left me no choice. But I was considerate enough to put something up for you. I knew one day you would touch down, and likethe predictable ass fuck nigga you are, you came around like clockwork, expecting something.”
His nostrils flared, and Inari shook her head before lowering her pistol to her side. She dug into the side pocket of her briefcase for one of her business cards and handed it to him.
“Call me tomorrow. I’ll meet you somewhere and bring you what you want.” She tossed her jacket into the car and climbed into her driver’s seat.
“What about Dane?” Danilo glanced at her name and title on the card before looking up at her.
She damn sure wasn’t the same fifteen-year-old girl he got pregnant. At the time, he thought shit was sweet, but the truth was, Inari was too good for him even back then. He was nineteen and living the fast life. When her parents died, he told himself he was being a man by stepping in and helping take care of her and Lala. Turning their home into a trap spot was a means to their survival, and for a while, it worked out.
When he was sentenced, he was more concerned about how Inari would take care of everybody when she was still a kid. He’d underestimated her. Imagine being locked up, and your baby mama out here slanging better than you ever did. The streets talked, and a lot of that made it to his cell. Inari earned her stripes and was smart enough to get out before she let it get the best of her.
“I’ll talk to Dane. He’s not a little kid anymore. He can make these kinds of decisions for himself,” Inari responded.
“Aight.” Danilo nodded and backed away from her car.
Slamming her door shut, Inari watched him walk off into the darkness before she started her whip and reached for her seat belt. He’d damn sure thrown her off with his appearance. She’d spent the last twelve years trying to push Danilo to the farthest corner of her mind. When he got locked up, she was eighteen with a three-year-old and had Ayla to provide for at the sametime. She told herself when that first crackhead came knocking that she would only sell until the product ran out, but that was the biggest lie.
Eventually, she was able to rent an apartment so people would stop showing up on their doorstep at all hours of the night. She even recruited some of his homies to help her, which they were more than happy to do as long as their pockets were filled. Hustling came easier than she expected since Danilo basically left her with his blueprint. Inari made some tweaks to the program and eventually figured out what worked for her. For years, she hustled, went to school, and provided for her family. When she landed her job atVintage Vault,she went to her supplier, Mira, and let her know she was done.
Mira was Danilo’s auntie, but the woman was a boss and madame, running both drugs and pussy at the best rate. Although Inari proved to be one of her top earners, she understood the reasoning behind her getting out and didn’t fight her on it. To this day, if Inari or Dane ever needed anything, she knew she could call on Mira. She was proud that she was able to get out and make a legal lifestyle for herself and never faulted her for it. Seeing Danilo brought everything in the past to the forefront, and now she would have to talk to her son about how his relationship with his father would look going forward.
Gripping the side of the toilet, Coast expelled the turkey club sandwich and chips she’d had earlier into the porcelain bowl. The stress and being constantly on go had her more exhausted than usual. Instead of finding somewhere to lay her head for the night, she ended up working a few more hours at the lounge to get some more tips.
“Ugh, sounds like somebody can’t handle their liquor.” A girl tittered outside the stall.
Coast wanted to clap back, but her mouth wouldn’t allow her to as she dry heaved until her stomach ached. Using the back of her hand, she wiped the saliva from her chin and straightened up. Lifting her foot, she flushed the toilet and pressed her back against the door to catch her breath. That was it. She had to get the hell out of there. The music, the voices, and even the smoke and liquor aromas she was used to were all too much.
Perspiration gathered on her forehead and under her armpits. Bursting from the stall, she went to wash her hands before heading to the employee lounge to get her things so she could go. When she stepped into the parking lot, the sun was rising very faintly in the distance. Used to working odd hours, she longed for a strong espresso coffee, but lately, she hadn’t been able to hold those down either. She’d summed it all up to stress. She’d drifted so long, thinking she was living the life, until she sat back and thought about her lack of accomplishments. Suddenly chasing more, she found herself in her hometown, filled with doubt.
Settling in the driver’s seat of her jeep, she took a breath before starting it. The only family she had in Ree Heights was her father’s aunt, Beverly. She and Coast weren’t close. Since she was out of options and low on funds, Bee was her only choice if she wanted somewhere to lay her head. Deciding against calling her, Coast took the fifteen-minute drive from the lounge to Bee’s house.
