Page 63 of Tainted

“I like nice things,” he replied, using the knot in the front to pull me closer, “You lied to me too.”

My neck buckled. “What did I lie about?”

“One visit to the crib, and you’re already taking shit that doesn’t belong to you.”

“You want it back?” I offered, but Kenyon's rhythmic chews took over to prevent his slick comment from sneaking out. “Why are you chewing on that gum like that?”

Then Kenyon dangled it between his teeth, taunting me, “Want some?”

“No! That’s gross.”

Suddenly, it felt like the air in the diner stopped working, but it was the gaze of every woman watching Kenyon lean in close, “Don’t get cute in your six-hundred-dollar shirt like you haven’t had my spit in your mouth before,” Kenyon flirted.

“Aye, Keyes!” Nolan called out, throwing his hand up to wave at me. When Kenyon turned around, he nodded toward the door.

“Miss Margie, can you make that order go quickly?” Kenyon announced, and once again, she agreed. “Cheer up. I’ll hit you later.”

“I won’t hold my breath,” I lied, walking back to the booth where Brandy and Jewel sat.

Easing into the seat, Brandy tried to pretend she was watching her phone, but Jewel didn’t hold back. I listened to her point out how Keyes winked before he left and defended me against Makori. After we finished eating, we asked for the check, but Kenyon had already taken care of that because he was always two steps ahead.

10

Kenyon

After pushing ‘what could have been’ with Zara out of my brain, I checked my gun while Nolan drove.

“What the fuck happened?” I asked.

“Miyan got stopped on the way to drop the money.”

I started to ask more questions, but I knew Nolan was smart enough not to ask too many over the phone. Unfortunately, I was stuck, playing all types of scenarios out in my head until we arrived where Kross was waiting for us.

“Nice to see you pulled your ass out of the club to do some real work.”

“Fuck you,” Kross spat, moving toward the entrance of the warehouse.

Nolan and I were right behind him, and we all breathed a little easier when we saw Miyan seated on a pallet.

“Has he been checked?” Kross asked as we stepped into the dimly lit room.

Miyan’s jaw twitched at Kross’s question. Disrespectful as it may have been, the fact that he was sitting in front of us and not in a cell was justification enough.

“He’s clean,” Shaudi replied.

“What the fuck happened?”

“It was like them nigga’s knew the route. Like they were waiting on us or some shit,” Miyan paused, taking a drag of the cigarette I wanted to tell his ass to put out. Mom claimed weed had the same aroma, but I begged to differ, “I was on McKinley, and the next thing I heard was sirens.”

“How the fuck did you get out of it?”

Miyan smirked. “I didn’t have the cash.”

“Dramatic ass nigga,” Shaudi shook his head because he’d likely already heard the story before we arrived. “Idris made the drop with no problems. We’re good.”

Kross and I shared a glance because we weren’t. We survived the night and bought ourselves some time, but somebody was looking for something and knew we had it. Miyan recounted his interaction with the two cops who stopped him. They drilled him for thirty minutes, asking the same question in various ways, hoping to trip him up, but they eventually let him go.

“We gotta switch up the schedule,” I said over my shoulder.

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