Page 17 of Own It

“Do I look like I drink some fucking cream soda Dr. Pepper, nigga? I ain’t ever even heard of that stupid shit.” I frowned, putting my gun away before rounding the island in the middle of the kitchen to grab the four cans of soda Josias’s stupid ass neglected to pick up. “Drink some regular shit like a man, or take yo’ ass to the store. Fuck is y’all doing here anyway?” I looked briefly over at Zaire who was still knocked the fuck out. “What he take?” I was speaking to Josias but kept my eyes pinned on Zaire.

“I don’t fucking know.” Josias popped open the can of soda and gulped it down before dropping the bread, cheese slices, and buffalo chicken deli meat he’d sourced from the fridge. After belching, he continued. “You the only one with food though so that’s why we came.”

“Aight, well I hope this outing right here don’t have you waking up late, muthafucka. You got pick up at four a.m. and it’s midnight.”

“Exactly why Zaire and I left that strip club early.” Josias grinned before focusing back on his creation as if it were brain surgery. “I usually don’t leave until they close at two, but I was responsible tonight.” He bit the dry sandwich.

Ignoring his illogical ass logic, I asked, “Aye, was it you or Zaire that had the tech nigga in ya pocket?”

“It was Zaire, but I know the nigga.” Josias spoke with his mouth full, making me step back some. I was already mad, and if crumbs from this nigga’s mouth hit my lip, I would snap. “Why?”

“I need him to look someone up for me. I need a full profile. His name is Cairo Conrad. He a neurosurgeon. Can you remember that, or do I need to write the shit down?”

“I got you. Hating ass nigga. Zaire the dumb one. How soon you need it?”

“In less than twenty-four hours. Tell that nigga I got ten grand for him if he can have it back to me before the sun come up.”

“Bet.” Josias nodded. “What you need him for?”

“I’ll let you know in a minute. Just handle that for me, aight?” I patted Josias’s shoulder as he nodded.

“Clean this shit up and get that nigga out my kitchen.” I exited, ignoring whatever Josias was hollering to me with his mouth full of food.

I couldn’t be bothered with Zaire’s nor Josias’s bullshit tonight. If I was gonna save my cousin’s life, I had to focus on putting a fucking plan in place.

* * *

The nigga Zaire knew, Ryan, had come through and with a file so thick I had no choice but to throw him an extra grand for his good work.

Now, I was planted in my office, poring over the documents. I saw Dr. Cairo Conrad had a wife of thirty-five years, who was also a doctor, and three children—two girls and one son. Pulling out the papers on the wife, I then spread out the write-ups of the three children, trying to figure out who was the most valuable to Dr. Conrad.

When my eyes landed on the youngest daughter, I was instantly hit with the memory of her at the party for Ayan. She was beautiful beyond measure with almond-shaped eyes, full lips, long lashes, and brown curly hair with a few streaks of blonde that made a nigga wonder if it was natural. I didn’t give a fuck either way. I hadn’t gotten close to her, but she looked like she smelled good, making me lick my lips as I picked up the paper detailing who she was to an extent.

Judging from what I saw of the whole Conrad family, it made sense for me to take the doctor’s wife or one of his older children, simply because they were doctors as well, and from the little I knew of Dr. Conrad, I could bet that the nigga saw more value in the children that followed in his career path.

Despite that, I was drawn to the doctor’s baby girl, and therefore, she would be the target. Plus, at the end of the day, she was the nigga’s daughter, so no matter how much he valued her, I was sure that his bitch ass wouldn’t be okay with anything happening to her.

So it was set, and a nigga would be able to kill two birds with one stone. I’d do what was needed in order to save Talid and get to be around the pretty girl from Ayan’s party all at the same fucking time.

FOUR

daylin

BACK TO WHERE WE STARTED . . .

“Okay, we need to redo these tags because some of them, I can barely see, and I’ve noticed the wrong phone case size in a few of these bins, so I’m not the only one having a hard time reading them,” I expressed to Morgin.

It was a little after six p.m., and we were organizing everything to be sure there were no hiccups for the huge sale being held on the website tomorrow.

“Okay, I can get started on that one . . . now.” Morgin’s sentence trailed off at the sound of someone knocking on the metal door of the warehouse that I’d left cracked.

It wasn’t often that I opted to have that door open or even unlocked, but Morgin and I, along with a few staff members that were now gone, had been at it all evening, and the air conditioning hadn’t been enough—fresh air was necessary too.

“Can I help you?” I asked, voice filled with irritation, and I didn’t give a fuck how obvious it was as I approached a grinning Ayan.

“You can actually.” He adjusted his grip on the large bouquet of roses he was clutching. When I lifted my brows as if to ask what the hell he wanted, Ayan, seemingly caught off guard, said, “I wanted to apologize for how I acted the night of my party.”

“Oh, . . . okay, well thank you.” I nodded. “You didn’t have to get me roses though. You finding me and coming down here to apologize was enough. Is that all?”