“Aight. Just stay out of the way. We got moves and money to make. Lots of money, nigga.”
“And a nigga about to be an uncle.”
“Definitely that. I need you here for that because I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
“Aight, sap ass nigga. Why my bestie ain’t come?”
“Because she’s slick. But you’ll see.”
They drove for a while before Robin noticed they weren’t heading toward the house. “Where we going?”
“Kennedi’s old apartment.”
Robin looked at him. “What for?”
“So you can shower and shit at your own spot.”
Robin didn’t say anything for a beat. He looked out the window, jaw working. “What you mean my own spot, Ro?”
“Ken moved in with me, so you’d have somewhere to lay your head, spend time with Monroe.” Rolani kept his eyes on the road. “And I got you some things. Yo big swole ass can’t fit shit from two years ago.”
“Ro.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m just saying?—”
“I said don’t.” His voice wasn’t hard. “You’re home. That’s it. Let me…usdo this.”
Robin nodded and went quiet.
The apartment was exactly how Kennedi had left it — clean, furnished, ready. Rolani had dropped off two bags the night before. New everything. Jeans, shirts, sweats, fresh kicks, toiletries lined up on the bathroom counter.
He unlocked the door and stepped back to let Robin in first.
Robin walked through slowly, taking it in. His hand trailed along the back of the couch. He looked at the light coming in through the kitchen window. He looked at the bags on the couch and stood there for a moment before turning around.
“This is why she is my bestie. Don’t fuck this up, Rolani. We fuck with Ken.”
“Nigga, please. Go wash yo ass, moisturize, and get fresh. Notice how minding my business was nowhere in that.”
“Yeah, aight, you heard what I said.”
Robin looked at the bags again. “Give me twenty minutes.”
“Take thirty.”
Rolani stepped outside and leaned against the truck’s hood. The sun was out, the neighborhood quiet, nothing to do but wait. He pulled out his phone, scrolled without seeing anything, and put it back.
He thought about Pearl. About her not making it long enough to see this day, and how that was the part he still hadn’t fully put down. He wondered sometimes if the heartbreak of Robin going in had taken something out of her that she couldn’t get back. He’d never say that out loud. But he thought it, and thinking it made him angrier at Monshay than anything else she’d ever done. He hadn’t acted on his need for blood because he caredabout Monroe; that was the only reason he wasn’t playing reaper.
Thirty minutes later, the door opened, and Robin stepped out looking like himself. Fresh clothes, locs tied back, standing taller than he had in that parking lot. The guardedness in his eyes was still there — that wasn't going to leave in a shower — but underneath it, Robin was still in there. The one who remembered who he was.
Rolani looked at him and nodded once.
Robin looked back and nodded.
That was enough.
