I cleared my throat. “Sanctum—you think it’s a password?”
His mouth tightened at the deflection, but he didn’t press. He leaned back, putting his hands behind his head, creating space between us again.
“Probably,” he said flatly, shifting enough for me to slide off his lap.
I went back to my side of the couch and adjusted a strap on my bodysuit. I already missed his warmth.
“Guess I’ll find out tomorrow.”
9 /FONTAINE JACKSON
“Your girl comingto the baby shower?” Cash asked without looking up, his eyes still on the counter as the money flipped through. He’d stop by the warehouse to drop off the cash that the investor had scammed from him.
“You invited her?”
“Jas did.” He rolled his eyes. “She trying to be her friend or something, even though I told her that shit’s pointless.”
It wasn’t necessarily pointless. Nairobi needed real friends. She wasn’t socially awkward, just… closed off. She knew how to work a room but didn’t see any purpose for keeping people in her life longer than what she needed. Work was the only constant in her life, and once upon a time, maybe me.
Did I believe her ass was too far gone to be saved? No, but she needed therapy. I’d never bring that up—she’d brush me off or shut me down and make up some excuse about being too busy with work.
“She’s not hopeless,” I said, stacking the last bundle and closing the safe. “You know how she is.”
Cash gave a half-shrug like he didn’t agree but wasn’t going to press the issue.
I pulled out my phone and checked her location. Her pinhadn’t moved in over thirty minutes. She was in some building near the Beltline, and she hadn’t checked in or texted like I’d told her to.
I shouldn’t be surprised. She was hardheaded and followed her own rules because she thought she knew better than everybody else. But this shit with the Order of Oleander didn’t feel right.
I cracked my neck and ignored the knot in my stomach. “She tell you about them people?”
“Who?”
“Order of Oleander.”
Cash tilted his head, frowning like he’d heard the name before but couldn’t place it. “The fuck is that?”
“Some weirdo rich nigga cult shit,” I said, leaning against the table. “Old money meets Black market. I don’t know much, but I know they popped up outta nowhere and Nai’s pops was tied up with them.”
“What they want with Nairobi?”
I rubbed my temples. “That’s what she’s trying to figure out. They’re probably behind who cleaned out Sterling’s accounts—he owed them a lot of money. She got some invitation to meet them today and won’t let me come with her.”
“And you’re here and not putting eyes on her?”
“She grown.”
He scoffed. “Nigga, you break into her house just ‘cause. What’s the real reason?”
I stared at the floor as I rubbed the back of my neck.
I didn’t want to fall in too deep again if she was gonna dip the second this was over. What happened in Miami fucked me up for a minute. I replayed that night for months, wondering if I should’ve pushed harder, or just thrown her ass over my shoulder and brought her back to Atlanta with me.
But how I look trying to force a grown woman into arelationship? She’d made her choice and I’d left her to live with the consequences of her decision.
Now here we were—two years later—and I was right back in the bullshit with her. I just didn’t know if I could take getting ghosted a second time.
I pulled out my phone again and stared at the location. Her location still hadn’t moved.
