Page 67 of Real's Love

I shrugged, tempted to ignore his question.

"And I told you, nothing."

"A'ight, shorty," he said.

I felt a strange mix of relief that he wouldn't be quizzing me and disappointment that he gave up so easily. I wasn't prepared for the strong hand that reached around me and turned my vegetables and beans off. Thank God my rice was in its own cooker.

"Montréal, what are you doing? I'm trying?—"

He spun me around and pinned me against the counter fast as hell before leaning down until our lips almost touched. His eyes were narrowed on my face.

"Don't lie to me, Ev. I can't stand that shit. And especially don't lie to me when something is going on with you," he cut through my protests. "Tell me."

I shook my head. "Real, it's--"

"You really feel like a nigga thinks that little of you? I'm supposed to come over here, let you cook for me, and spread you out like I don't notice you hurting? Kind of weak ass men you used to?" he asked. "Tell me."

I pressed my wrists against my eyes, trying to stop their leaking, even as my breath hitched. I didn't even fight as he pulled me into his arms and against his solid chest.

"Come on, love," he whispered, "tell me."

The combination of his touch and his words broke my resolve.

"I lost one of my babies today."

My voice cracked on the last word, and I leaned into him, crying. The story fell from me in jagged bits and pieces. I'd been there for stillbirths before and lost little ones hours or days after birth. Each time was sad, but I'd learned to hold it together. But this one was different, made even more tragic by how unexpected it was and the parents' circumstances. They'd tried so hard to conceive, had finally done so and made it to their sixth month of pregnancy. Then a teenager on his way to school and trying to impress his friends with the speed of his new car lost control and hit them. Mommy had minor injuries but the shock sent her into a labor we couldn't stop. Baby girl didn't survive. My whole team was devastated, despite all the training we had in dissociation. I had never heard anything like that mother's cries. That would stay with me forever.

Real didn't try to shush me or tell me it was okay. He just held me as I stammered out the words, rubbing my back and pressing angel kisses against my face. At some point, he got me up the stairs and into bed where I fell asleep, sniffing and hiccuping but warm and recovering, in his arms.

He used the time to finish dinner, waking me to sit up and eat. As I finished, he cupped my cheek and tilted my face up.

"Still no sleepovers?" he asked softly.

I was so tempted. Real chased away the despair, filled me with something so warm and comforting... something that felt scarily necessary to me. That fear had me shaking my head, contradicting my heart.

He grabbed the tray covering my lap. After brushing my teeth, I followed him downstairs where he ignored my protests and cleaned my kitchen. He left after giving me a kiss that stole my breath. "Tomorrow will be better, love," he whispered.

Relief pulsed through me. I believed it just because he said it. Real had proved himself to be just what his name implied, and I had come to count on that. For the first time in forever, I trusted a man outside my family.

I knew I was in trouble.

(The Present)

I tapped my fingers impatiently, ready for this meeting to start. I usually enjoyed my time in Houston, but this wasn't about pleasure at all. Well, unless I considered finding this bitch and getting some answers, pleasure. It just might be, if I got to hem her ass up to get them.

It wasn't until after she left that I knew something was wrong. I popped up at her place the Monday after she told me she was leaving, and she really was gone. I expected our team to find her within the hour. I'd trace her credit cards, find the number to the second phone she kept, and text her the weather in whatever city she was in. That was my plan. That was all the warning she was getting before I showed up at her door and let her know whatmyrules were.

But the top-notch trackers and hackers we hired couldn't find anything new on Evanie Hill. They also couldn't find traces of her in the house or in the BMW. It was a wipe that was clean enough to throw off the best finders in the business. The nursing license she used was backed up by records at the Board of Nursing and at the university she claimed as an alma mater. My team sifted again through documents that laid out her history. I noticed how little there was. She was supposedly from the Atlanta area with no close living family. I'd been so wrapped up in what we had going that I didn't pay attention to all the little details. The house with no family pictures. The phone that she claimed was for work. The way she always changed the subject when I asked about her. The time I had let it slide that she mentioned a sister. She'd hidden herself even more than I realized.

I tore through Texas, looking for a woman I didn't even have a picture of. The one she should've submitted to the Board of Nursing was conveniently missing and there were no traces of her badge images at her jobs. Then, the little electronic trail we could find disappeared. She hadn't left much in terms of people who could tell us anything, either. Liam and Chill wouldn't let us talk directly to Taleah and Kelsey, who claimed not to know anything.

Eventually, Cairo put something on my mind that I had been refusing to consider. What if she was a plant? The coincidental meeting she claimed she’d had with Aaqil looked different now. And we had enemies beyond Aaqil, people looking for just the right tip to take us down. We were building on a mostly solid foundation, but there were some shaky parts that didn't need to be seen—the kinds of things that could destroy us. Was Ev, or whomever she was, sent there to shine a light on those? That thought had me thinking over our conversations in detail. I’d shared a lot of my thoughts with her, but only in vague terms. I thought I was protecting her. Apparently, I should’ve been looking out for myself. Three weeks into my search for her, I found myself lounging at my Mama's table as she served me some little quick bread she was experimenting on and a cup of tea. I’d gone to Cairo’s first, but he was caught up in some shit with Keelah that I probably shouldn’t be witness to. I smiled as Mama cut the muffin into quarters, like she did when we were little.

"She doesn't exist," I mumbled, picking up a piece.

Lowering herself into the chair next to me, she patted my shoulder.

"She does exist. You just have to try harder."

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