A week later, I was sitting across from Detectives Harris and Randall in that cold visitation room. Bradley sat beside me. The room was bare—just a metal table and a couple of chairs bolted to the floor. I was sweating. My mind was racing, wondering if I was really about to do this. But then I thought about being stuck in this hellhole, surrounded by the 111 Boyz for a year or more while a trial dragged on. The thought made my stomach churn. I couldn’t go through that. I wasn’t built for that life. So, I knew what I had to do.
Detective Harris leaned forward, his eyes never leaving mine. He looked like he’d seen a lot in his years and I wasn’t about to surprise him with anything I had to say. Randall, on the other hand, was almost too calm. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small recorder. She turned it on, and the red light blinked to life.
“All right, Damar,” Harris said, flipping open his notepad. His pen was ready to take notes. “Let’s hear it.”
I slowly turned my head, looking at Bradley. He nodded, giving me a nonverbal signal to proceed.
I took a deep breath as my hands clenched and unclenched under the table. “Okay. I’m gonna tell y’all everything.”
Harris nodded, his eyes steady on me, while Randall sat back, letting the recorder do the work. “We’re listening,” Harris said.
“I was having an affair with Mia.” I could hear my voice shaking and could feel the room getting smaller with every word. “I taught her how to embezzle from Dream Realty. She didn’t know shit about that kind of thing until I showed her how to do it. It was supposed to be just a little hustle on the side, something to put a few extra dollars in our pockets. But then she started gettinggreedy. She wanted more money and more of my time. When she found out she was pregnant, she saw it as her ticket to lock me down. She wanted me to leave Aviana. After she was arrested, she told me that she was going to tell Aviana everything because she was convinced that Aviana had snitched. But it was me. I made the anonymous tip to the twins at Dream Realty because I was trying to get rid of her.”
Randall shifted in her seat, leaning forward a bit. “What happened next, Damar?”
I swallowed hard, feeling the pressure of their stares. “When she picked up her phone to call Aviana, I knew she would really do it. I knew I had to do something to stop her. I couldn’t let her ruin everything I had, so I killed her in an apartment we would sneak off to. This was the night that she got fired from Dream Realty.”
“How did you get her out of the building?” Harris asked.
“In the suitcase she was found in.” I waited for them to respond with disdain or surprise at my actions, but their expressions remained stoic, as if they had heard this all before. “Somehow, the anchor I had tied to it must have come loose, and it floated to the surface.”
“Go on,” Randall pressed.
“After I killed her, I pretended to be her to make it seem like she was still alive.” The words came out in a rush, almost like I was trying to push them away from me. “I started texting Aviana, making it look like it was Mia sending those threatening messages.”
Randall raised an eyebrow, finally speaking. “So, you were the one behind the car and the fire?”
I nodded. “I paid some chick to do it. I just wanted to make it seem like Mia was still alive.”
Randall clicked off the recorder. They stayed silent for so long, as if they couldn’t believe the lengths to which I had gone.
“You’re looking at a long time, Damar,” she said, almost like she was reminding me of the fate I’d just sealed with my own words.
“I don’t care,” I replied, staring down at the table. “I just can’t be in here for a year, maybe more, fighting for my life every day. At least this way, I got a chance.”
The detectives exchanged a glance, and I knew they had what they needed. My confession was out there now, and there was no taking it back. But at least, maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to survive prison without fearing for my life every day, even if it meant doing time for the rest of it. Anything was better than rotting in this place with a target on my back.
CHAPTER 20
AVIANA SCOTT
AS SOON ASwe landed back in Chicago, Mythic headed straight to the grocery store. Having that private chef in Belize had been amazing, no doubt. The food was delicious, but after a week of it, we were both ready to get back to some real food—Black American food. I was craving it like crazy, and apparently, so was he.
We were walking through the produce section, picking up stuff for the meal we had in mind—fried chicken, collard greens, and sweet potatoes.
As I reached for some bell peppers, I smirked at him flirtatiously. “You know,” I started, “I never imagined you’d be this soft.”
He looked at me with one eyebrow cocked and that grin of his showing just how cocky he could be. “Ain’t nothing soft about me,” he shot back, his deep voice dripping with that usual swag.
I giggled, tilting my head to the side. Then my eyes slowly grazed his tall frame from the top of his head to where I knew his impressive manhood hung. “You’re right about that shit, baby.”
Biting on his bottom lip with a devilish smirk, he pinched my stomach. “Don’t start no shit in this store. I’ll have you bent over the lettuce.”
I giggled and put space between us as I pushed the cart farther down the aisle. “I didn’t mean soft like that. I meant, I never imagined a street dude like you would be so…attentive. You know, loving, affectionate. You’ve been spoiling me all week, and now you’re out here grocery shopping with me. It’s cute, but I’m shocked.”
He stepped closer, sliding his arm around my waist with his lips just brushing my ear. “I can be a gangsta and still be the man you need. I ain’t gotta choose between loving you and the streets.”
I smiled up into his eyes with a gaze filled with appreciation for his presence in my life. He wasn’t just saying these words. He meant them. He could be tough when the world demanded it, but here, with me, he was something else—something I hadn’t expected but couldn’t resist.
