Page 93 of Quasim III: King Inferno

Shit.

It took ten minutes for him to run everything down to me, and for them to put everything into motion. He raised this big ass phone to my ear, and I listened to the phone ring.

“Get her or I’m not letting this prissy bitch out.”

“Damn, are you really that mad that I’m pretty?” Irie yelled back and I rolled my eyes.

I didn’t even know why I was surprised, being that she was Synthia’s sister. “I’m here, Lucia.”

The line grew quiet. “You came for me… I love that for us.”

I chuckled. “I’m only coming in if you agree to let detective Hill out… other than that, I have nothing to say.”

“Deal.” She quickly agreed.

I nodded and disarmed, as I walked closer to the house and came through the gates. Everyone was quiet on the block as I neared the house. My phone buzzed and I quickly grabbed it.

Meer Cat: On the block, Sug. I’m on what you on.

I smiled because I shouldn’t have been surprised that Meer was always going to find a way to get near me. Even when he should have been recovering, that man was a husband and a father always.

I knocked on the door that had weather damage and chipped white paint. The door opened, and I slid in through the crack. Irie held the door open and closed it back.

“She leaves, Lucia,” I demanded.

Irie looked at me and screwed her face up. “I’m not leaving.”

“Leave, Irie.” I told her.

Lucia laughed, making her presence known. She was in the kitchen with her back up against the kitchen counter with a gun in her hand. “Get the fuck out of here, you little pretty bitch.”

“She really mad because I’m a baddie… crazy.”

I wanted to laugh because Irie was serious, and Lucia had been on her looks since I called her outside. “I earned every fucking wrinkle on this face. Every scar and battle wound on my body, I earned. This job, too — I have grit, balls, and I handled everything the way any of the guys would have.”

“You should have handled it with some retinol, Bitch.” Irie said, and looked at me, not wanting to leave.

I held the door open for her and she left slowly, as I closed the door behind her. Turning, I looked at Lucia and she looked like she hadn’t slept in a week. The bags under her eyes were as big as my work bag without the laptop in it.

Her tanned skin was dull, and her hair was pulled up in a ponytail on top of her head. She was in sweatpants that had stains and a white shirt with the same amount of stains on it.

The house smelled stale, and everything was dull in here. Like there was no life in this home. Pictures of her and Parker were on the living room entertainment center.

The leather sectional screamed bachelor, and the coffee table filled with empty food containers and scattered mail, told me this was where she ate, slept, and probably shitted.

The TV was on the news, as I watched the outside of the house that I was currently in. Lucia laughed to herself and then messed with a loose strand of hair that was in front of her head.

Even before all of this happened, life hadn’t been kind to her. Lucia had made her entire life into being a detective. Always on the scene, never taking a day off, and putting this career before having a family.

“I loved him, you know.” She noticed me looking at a picture of them, and Rich looked miserable. “He never loved me, but whatever.”

She pulled a cigarette out the carton that was next to her. I watched her light the cigarette and take a nice long pull. “That’s sad.”

“Yeah. Not everyone is going to love you. I can’t be one of you bitches… tight pants, makeup and heels.” She looked at my heels in disgust.

Lucia was jealous of any woman that she felt was prettier than her. Her entire career, she had been known as one of the guys. They didn’t see her as one of the women they drooled over.

A sexy court clerk, a new, younger and beautiful detective, or a lawyer that breezed into the station. “Why do you assume everyone loves me?”

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