Page 101 of Diamond In The Rough

“Sounds to me like you’ve got a problem,” Archer teases. Perhaps reading my mind, or simply getting lucky. “You caught feelings, and now you’re doing that thing where you’ll refuse yourself the chance to be happy. The martyrdom continues.”

“Mind your fuckin’ business. Where’s Mayet?”

“At the morgue. And you don’t get to ask about my wife when you’re catastrophizing your relationship with another woman. Go sort your shit with Tiia. Maybe learn sign language. Then teach her so she doesn’t have to stare at people’s mouths anymore.”

“I’m hanging up.” I pull the phone from my ear and kill our call, but before I can toss it down, it trills again. A new call. A new name. Frowning, and then setting my free hand to my swirling stomach, I accept it and bring the device to my ear. “Tiia? Are you okay?”

“Hey.” Her breath comes out on a rushed exhale. “I’m so sorry for calling you while you’re…” She clears her throat. “Ya know, working. Where are you?”

I want to laugh. To breathe easy. But panic lances between our call and leaves me on the edge.

“Heading to Harlem. What’s up?”

“Well… I don’t mean to be presumptuous. And it’s not like I can call you randomly just because you’re… you’re not my boyfriend or anything, so it’s not like?—”

“What’s the problem?” I glance across to a keenly listening Felix. His smug grin, evaporated. His playful demeanor, swapped not for the businessman who runs most of this city, but for the brother who would die for those he loves.

He would trade his life for mine in an instant. That reality is a terrifying truth.

And I’d trade mine for Tiia. Which means, basically, we’re all fucked.

“Are you safe?” I ask her. “Are you hurt?”

“Um… not hurt…” Her voice shakes. The fear in her words enough to make my stomach drop and my heart to pound. “The place next to my shop just had this incident.”

“An incident?” My question comes out in a barked demand. “What kind of incident, Tiia?”

“The armed robbery kind, that’s all. No one got hurt or anything. And the police have been called. It’s a non-emergent situation, apparently. Since the gunman didn’t shoot anyone and he got the money he wanted. And I just… I just?—”

“Smith?” Felix sits forward in his seat. “Turn the car around. We’re heading back to the city.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh my gosh,” Tiia sniffs. “No. You don’t have to come all the way back.” She sniffles. She’s crying! “I just needed to talk to someone for a second. It’s stupid. I thought of you. But I didn’t mean to intrude on your day or anything.”

“You’re not intruding.” I slip my hand into my pocket and finger the handle of my knife. “Are you okay?” I turn away from my brother, searching for privacy when there’s not much to be found. “Did you get caught up in anything?”

“No. Yes,” she corrects, “I’m okay. No, I didn’t get caught up. I was helping a customer in my shop when I heard the ruckus next door. It was just a lot of shouting and stuff. Then I heard the rack of a shotgun and Jakeline locked our door.”

“You heard the rack?” I study a trendy coffee shop as Smith angles the car back toward Manhattan. “And the shouting?”

“Yeah. The guy wanted money. Paul gave it to him.”

“Paul?”

“The owner of the shop next door. Listen,” she rushes out nervously. “You don’t have to come back here. You especially don’t have to bring Felix.”

“He’ll behave,” I snicker. “And we’ll keep space. Are the doors still locked?”

“Um… no. This all happened, like, thirty minutes ago. The cops are coming soon, apparently. So Jakeline unlocked them again once the guy ran away.”

“Lock them again. Safety 101, Grá. I’ll come stay with you till the cops are done, then Lix and I will get back to work.”

“Wait…” Her breath explodes. Stress making her jerky and erratic. “Are you allowed over here?” She lowers her voice. “Like, with Felix and the cops and stuff, all in the same space?”

“I think you assume Lix is a wanted felon, Grá.”

He scoffs behind me.

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