20 /NAIROBI CRAWFORD
Bear
Need you to come to the warehouse.
“Work?”Kenya asked. I’d stopped by the house to check on her, something new to the both of us. After everything with Hana and the Order, I decided I could try and extend her a little more grace. Sterling had fucked us all up and left us to put ourselves together.
“Something like that,” I said, slipping the phone back into my pocket. “I do have to go though.”
“Before you do,” she slid a card across the table to me. I picked it up, it was the name and number of a therapist.
“Therapy?”
She shrugged. “I want to build a relationship with you, Nairobi. I can’t excuse how the past thirty-eight years have gone, but I can admit my shortcomings. Your father was a manipulative prick, but he’s not here anymore. We can try to fix this ourselves or at least get some help. And you know I love throwing money at a problem.”
I looked at the card again. “Who referred you?”
“Lorna. As you can imagine, most of the women I’m friendswith are all a little messed up.” She chuckled softly. “I know you think we’re just a bunch of stuffy rich women, but they really are my friends.”
This was her way of trying. Pushing her away just kept me trapped in the same cycle Sterling had drilled into me. Plus, how the hell could I try with Fontaine but not my own mother? I had to keep doing the uncomfortable things.
I exhaled and tucked the card into my bag. “Okay. I’ll go. Set it up.”
Relief flickered across Kenya’s face as she made her way around the table to hug me. “Be safe, okay?” she said as I pulled away.
“Always.”
I knew shit was off the moment I stepped into the warehouse.
Cash was leaning against a stack of crates, stone faced. Jelani was quiet for once with no slick remark as I approached them. Slim, who was always the most relaxed of the four, had a distant look on his face.
Fontaine kissed the top of my head as I sidled up next to him.
“Um… hey, y’all,” I said.
“We’re all here,” Fontaine said, tipping his chin toward Slim. “Go ‘head, bruh.”
Slim took a deep breath and stood. “I know who’s behind the baby shower shooting.”
Cash frowned. “How’d you find out?”
“Because it was meant for me. Ol’ girl from New York… she’s Messiah Lawson’s wife.”
My stomach dropped.
Messiah Lawson used the Agency’s services when heneeded someone high profile dealt with. Over the years he’d grown increasingly erratic and paranoid, but had too much control on the east coast gun market—and no one had the balls to take him out.
Cash’s eyes went wide as he pushed off the crate. “Whatchu you mean you been fucking on Messiah’s wife?”
“I didn’t know at first,” Slim swallowed. “She told me after the fact—she said they were separated, that she was leaving him?—”
“And you believed her?” Cash roared, closing the distance between them. “You brought bullshit to my door over some pussy?”
He jabbed a finger into Slim’s forehead. “You supposed to be smarter than that, my nigga. We forty! The fuck is this young boy shit?”
“You so fucking lucky my wife and daughter ain’t get hurt.” Cash shoved him and reared his arm back like he was about to punch him, but turned away instead.
Slim held his ground, clearly ready to take whatever punishment was coming.
