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I smiled at him nervously. His questions were a little much, but he had just gotten out of prison. I figured he needed to know who he could trust. And wanted to know if I were a good girl or something. Once we talked, he would understand that I wasn’t here to get him in trouble.

I needed him to help me.

We ordered food, and I started telling him about Justice. Tavares listened without interrupting, which made it easier to keep talking. He wanted to know who was at the house, whether Justice had mentioned him and how much I had told anybody about meeting him.

I figured he was being careful. Justice had money and people who did things for him. We couldn’t make mistakes.

“He beat me all the time. And then he lets his new girlfriend do it too. The worst of all is her son Keenan. He’s tried to… you know…” I lied and conjured up some tears.

“He didn’t succeed though, right?” he asked.

“No. But you gotta help me. I know what you’re capable of,” I whimpered.

He reached across the table and patted my hand.

“You ain’t gotta worry about that. I love you. You my daughter. I’mma take care of those muhfuckas for you. Justice, that bitch, that lil nigga. None of ’em will ever put their hands on you again,” he said. His eyes burned into mine, and for the first time I felt believed. I felt seen.

I watched his hand move away. Justice hadn’t said anything like that without looking at me like he was trying to figure out what I had done wrong.

“We can talk better at my spot,” Tavares continued. “Ain’t gotta have all these people in our business.”

“Okay.”

I was halfway through eating when I started feeling strange. The noise around us seemed farther away, and I had to blink twice before the words on the menu stopped moving.

“You good?”

“Just tired.”

He watched me put my glass down.

“Come on. We’ll get you somewhere you can rest.”

I stood up too quickly and caught the edge of the table. Tavares put a hand beneath my elbow, helping me toward the door.

Outside, I tried to ask where he had parked. My tongue wouldn’t cooperate. He was saying something beside me, but I couldn’t hold on to the words.

The sidewalk tilted beneath my feet.

When I opened my eyes again, something was pressing against my cheek.

I tried to sit up and hit my head. It was dark, and my knees were folded awkwardly beneath me. I reached toward my mouth and found tape.

What the fuck?

The floor moved beneath me as an engine hummed somewhere close. I pushed above my head until my fingers found the underside of a trunk lid.

Why had he put me in here?

Maybe he didn’t trust me yet. He barely knew me. He could’ve thought Justice sent me to find him, although that didn’t explain the tape.

I kicked the lid and tried to yell through it.

He would stop once he heard me. I needed to explain again.

I kicked harder until pain shot through my heel. The car kept moving, and I began pounding with both hands. I couldn’t tell whether anybody could hear me.

Eventually, the engine stopped.