“No. Shut up. I don’t want to hear another word out of your mouth unless it’s ‘aye’.”
There’s a pause, the sound of muffled voices in the background—doctors, maybe, or nurses.
“Valentina was set to be the first lady. Case closed.”
“A week ago she was a bottom bitch,” Johnson snaps, apparently unable to help himself. “Without the ceremony?—”
“Without the ceremony, she’s still the woman Xavier chose,” Zay says, his voice hard as steel. “The woman he was going to make First Lady before someone put a bullet in him. You think a ceremony changes that? You think a few words and some symbolic bullshit makes her more or less qualified to sit in that chair?”
I should say something.
Anything.
But my throat feels like it’s been lined with sandpaper, my tongue heavy and useless in my mouth. Every eye in the room has landed on me at some point during this argument, weighing me, judging me, trying to figure out if I’m worth the fight Asher and Jackie are waging on my behalf.
I don’t feel worth it.
I feel like an imposter.
Like a fraud.
Like someone who’s going to let everyone down the second they expect me to actually do something.
But then I think about Xavier.
About the way he looked at me the last time I saw him, the way he smiled like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. About the way he fought for me, over and over, even when I didn’t deserve it.
And I think about what would happen if I let people like Johnson and George take over.
If I let them tear apart everything Xavier built while he’s lying in a hospital bed, helpless.
I can’t let that happen.
I won’t.
Johnson opens his mouth, closes it, then tries again. “It’s not about qualification. It’s about?—”
“Let’s not pretend this is anything other than what it is, Johnson,” Jackie interrupts, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “You’ve been gunning for Xavier’s position since the day you joined the Raiders, and now you see an opportunity. But here’s the thing—you’re not getting it. Not now. Not ever.”
“This is insane,” Johnson mutters, shaking his head. “You guys just want to get into the bitch’s pants.”
“Say that a little louder, Johnson,” Asher sneers, kicking his chair back. “Because I’ve been wanting to correct your crooked-ass nose for a while.”
Johnson jumps up. “Come on, man, jump?—”
“Alright,” I croak, my voice raw. “Just bring it to a vote.”
My voice drops lower with each word, and I avoid the liquid heat that is Asher’s gaze. I don’t want to be a leader. I didn’t want to be first lady. I didn’t want to be Xavier’s.
I actively hated him.
I wanted to run off into the sunset with Zay, and now all I feel is guilt. Nerves.
God, I think I hate myself.
“All in favor,” Asher says, his voice cutting through my spiraling thoughts, “of appointing Valentina as interim leader of the Raiders until Xavier’s return, say aye.”
Silence stretches like a rubber band pulled too tight, ready to snap.
