I understand what he’s asking, and I nod.
After dropping Elsa off with my mom, I drive around the city, needing the time and silence to think. I end up back outside Tariq’s house, but I can’t face going inside. I call Jermaine and he picks up on the second ring. Never keeping me waiting long.
“What’s up?”
“I’m outside, come out.”
He appears in the doorway within seconds and jogs down the porch steps and down the front path.
I light a smoke, regretting that I still haven’t kicked the habit yet.
“You staying out here cause if you go in there,” he says, sticking his thumb over his shoulder, “you’ll fucking ram her head through the wall?”
Snorting, I picture the image, and it fills me with fucking ecstasy.
“I just got back from seeing Amelia’s father, her trial is in two weeks. He asked if I could make it so Clare disappeared on vacation.”
A wicked smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, and I know exactly where his head has gone.
“I’m pretty sure he was asking about an actual vacation, not the permanent kind.”
His smirk slips and in turn, making me laugh.
“She will permanently disappear soon enough, but for now, we keep her out of her father’s reach and where no one will think to look for her. Two days before the trial, you’ll drive her down to the middle of nowhere with Tariq. And not return till you get the nod from me.”
“Done.”
“Make up some shit that you’re doing a run to check out other gangs or something. Once the court date has passed, we’ll deal with her.”
“We’ll have to tread carefully, she’s not another gangbanger who won’t be missed. Her absence will be investigated.”
“Then we best cover our tracks. Start with her not being seen out front of the house, make sure her phone goes missing, no calls or texts to pinpoint her here.”
“Done.”
He lights a cigarette, and I dash the butt out of the window.
“I know you’ve had a lot of shit on your mind lately, so I’ve been keeping my ear to the ground, and you know what I’ve been hearing?”
Jerking my chin, I wait for him to continue. “Not a lot.”
When the streets are quiet, it’s never a good thing.
“The Six-Nighters?”
“Not a lot of movement, no attacks.”
“2-Guns?”
“The same.”
“Have our boys keep their eyes open. I’ll see what I can find out.”
I drive down the street and let myself into the house. Grandma’s smile grows as she gives me the once over. She nodsto the crib by her side, and I cross the room and look down at Elsa sleeping peacefully.
“Her dreams are sweet,” Grandma whispers and I smile.
“She dreams of her mama,” I say, stroking her chubby little cheek.
