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“You want her to stay living there? That’s moving kinda fast,” Prime said.
“We’re going away for a weekend up to Riot’s spot. We’ll hash out the details there.”
“I’m happy for you , bro’. That you were finally able to move on from Monica. I ain’t think that shit was going to ever happen.”
“Just needed the right woman.”
After leaving my brothers, I stopped at the grocery store before heading home. I had been running around all day and wanted to bring the women in my house a little something. Ice cream usually worked.
Rita liked butter pecan, while Dream refused to eat anything but vanilla. Storie loved strawberry, and Skye was a chocolate woman. I already had three cartons in my basket and was reaching into the freezer for Skye’s when Creed’s name appeared on my phone.
“Talk to me.”
“Are you sitting down, man?”
His tone made me pull my hand out of the freezer.
“No. What is it?”
“I got the deep scrub back on your girl.”
“Go ahead.”
“She’s not who she says she is, Justice. Her legal name is Melody Harlow. Mercer is her maiden name, but there is no Skye. That’s a new identity.”
I shoved the freezer door closed. The glass rattled hard enough to make a woman farther down the aisle look over at me.
“What else.”
“She has a criminal record. Melody was convicted of reckless endangerment after her eight-year-old son got ahold of a gun and shot her two-year-old daughter to death. Her trial took place about a year later, and she served five years in prison. She’s been out for roughly a year.”
The last name finally registered.
“What did you say her last name was?”
“Harlow.”
“And that’s her married name?”
“Yeah. She was married to…”
“Roman Harlow.”
“Wait, you already knew?”
“Nah. Just puttin’ two and two together.”
Roman had told me about his baby girl dying but didn’t go into detail. He sat across from me and said his neglectful ex-wife had gotten their daughter killed. Keenan stood a few feet away from us while his father fed me that shit. Now the woman Roman had been talking about was living in my house.
“Listen, I’m going to email you the whole file,” Creed continued. “Court records, corrections records, her old law license and everything else my people found. Whoever created Skye Mercer knew what they were doing. That’s why it took us longer to get underneath it.”
“Send it.”
“I’m doing that now, but read the file before you confront her.”
“Send it, Creed.”
“It should be in your inbox.”
