Rich went quiet again, and I could practically hear him thinking through the phone.
“Put my wife on the phone.”
The woman immediately started sobbing harder. “Rich, please!”
“Shut up,” he snapped at her before lowering his voice again. “Koko, this ain’t how this shit gotta go.”
I laughed softly. “Nigga, we way past that.”
His breathing deepened slightly, but he still sounded controlled. Angry, but controlled.
“You made your point,” he said. “Now tell me what you want.”
“I want you nervous.”
Silence met me for a second.
“I want you looking over your shoulder every time your phone rings. Every time a car pull behind you. Every time somebody stand too close to you.”
“You talking like you already won.”
“I am winning.”
“You sure about that?”
I looked toward the woman and little girl before answering.
“You the one wondering if your family safe tonight. Not me.”
Rich laughed once under his breath, but there wasn’t any humor in it.
“You still think emotional.”
“And you still underestimate me.”
Another silence stretched between us before he spoke again.
“You know what your problem always was, Koko? You get reckless when shit get personal.”
“And you talk too much.”
“I’m gon’ find you.”
“You should’ve been trying harder before I kicked your front door in.”
That finally elicited a real reaction from him. I heard the anger sharpen in his breathing immediately afterward.
“You touch them, and everybody around you dies.”
A slow smile spread across my face again.
“Then come get them.”
Then I hung up.
CHAPTER 17
At 11:47 PM on a Tuesday, I stared at the sonogram picture on my phone for a long moment before finally sending it to Rich.
