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“No, you listen to me,” he cut me off immediately.

“You know I don’t play around with the safety of where I lay my head. Especially with what happened in the past with my wife and my daughter. She showed up at my house the night RJ got hurt because I saw her walk up to my doorstep on the cameras. You gave her my address, and that same night, one of my guards on the corner gets killed. Shit is starting to add up in the worst way for her ass. Tell me I’m lying.”

“It could be a coincidence, and we have to give her the benefit of the doubt, Crewshon?”

“Benefit of the doubt, my ass. You're sitting here acting like I’m tripping. I’m not a fucking judge. It’s guilty until proven innocent around this muthafucka, Jasmine. You not understanding the severity of this shit,” he snapped while gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“Matter fact, let’s go holler at her right now.”

“Crew, my son is in the hospital. I need to get back there.”

“He’s going to be okay for right now. And we need to go make sure niggas not going to have us lying next to him if this nigga Troy really is plotting on us. So we pulling up on her now.”

Crew burned rubber from in front of Castle Hill projects to go to Maleka’s house. He knew exactly where she lived because growing up, he was always the one walking me over there or riding the bus with me so I could spend time with her.

When we finally pulled onto her block, her red BMW sat outside, glowing under the streetlights confirming she was here.

“Call her and tell her to come out here to talk,”

I shook my head slightly, and my fingers hesitated for a second before I pressed her name, and after a few rings, she answered.

“Hey, friend. You, okay?”

The concern in her voice sounded so genuine that it instantly made me feel bad for even pulling up over here to question her about anything. Yeah, I was upset she hadn’t told me about Troy, but at the same time, a part of me wanted to believe it wasn’t for malicious reasons.

“I’m okay, friend. I’m outside your place right now.”

“Outside my house?”

“Yeah. I see your car here. I want to talk to you about something.”

There was a brief pause.

“Oh, is it about Rj?”

“No, it’s something else.”

“Oh, okay, well, let me throw on some shorts and come outside.”

“Okay, see you in a minute.”

The phone disconnected, and silence settled back inside the car.

Crew kept staring at the building, one arm resting against the window while the other tapped slowly against the steering wheel. The whole energy inside the car felt tense now, like something bad was about to happen.

A couple of minutes later, the front door of the building finally opened, and Maleka stepped outside wearing a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt. Her hair was thrown up in a messy bun like she had rushed out of the house. But the second her eyes landed through the windshield, and she saw me and Crew, she froze right there on the stoop.

She wasn't looking at us like somebody who had come outside to talk. She was looking at us like she had just seen a ghost.

“Why the fuck is she just standing there?”

“I don't know.”

I rolled the window down.

“Leka, over here.”

She finally moved, taking a few slow steps off the stoop. Her eyes never left the car, though.