Page 4 of Faded Rhythm

I drop it into my purse and close the box. Just outside the door, my poor bribery victim pokes her head in. I nod, and together, we secure it back in its place.

Back in the car, I sigh and close my eyes. I don’t even know where to start. With an attorney, obviously, but I already know that’ll be the start of something big. Something that will change my life and my girls’ lives. And worse, as soon as Brett finds out, I’ll have to go on the offense. The man will not fight fair with me.

Just before I pull off, I check my rearview mirror. I could swear I’ve seen that black SUV before. Yesterday. Maybe the day before, too. Or maybe I’m just being paranoid. Maybe all the secrecy is messing with my head.

I pull off and head back to the west side. There’s dinner to prepare. Laundry to fold. And a husband to leave. I just have to do this right so he never sees it coming.

But I have this feeling, way down in my bones, that something’s coming for me first.

3

King

In my line ofwork, tailing people is something I can do in my sleep. But I swear, watching Mrs. Sable Lovelace-Graves move through the world is different. It’s like following a swan as it glides across the murky waters of a lake. Beautiful, graceful, majestic, but oblivious to what’s lurking beneath the surface of her life.

She’s wearing actual clothes today; a light blue dress and sandals with a heel on them. Her hair is pinned up haphazardly, but somehow, she makes it look good. It’s kinda sexy the way it exposes the long line of her neck. From where I sit, her brown skin looks flawless. I bet it’s soft, too.

I’m used to seeing her in tight-fitting yoga clothes, so you’d think I’d be used to her body by now. But that dress, as businesslike as it is, somehow makes her look even sexier.

I don’t know if women understand how enticing it can be when they’re covered up, but then again, if I was a woman, I wouldn’t listen to shit men have to say about most things.

I wait five minutes, then follow her into the bank. I stick to the periphery, leaning against a pillar, pretending to scroll onmy phone. She’s with the banker now. Young girl, eager to help. She’s flustered until Sable pulls out a fat wad of cash.

My brows knit together as I watch this scene play out.

Bribery?

Interesting.

The suburban housewife has layers. Maybe claws, too.

I watch the way she handles the banker. Sable has a quiet confidence with people that only comes from experience. That’s how you behave when you grow up in rooms where power sits. I’d bet my last dollar her daddy taught her street smarts. The man was around some of the toughest rappers in the industry.

Then again, he didn’t teach her enough for her to know not to let a man like Brett Graves get next to her.

She leaves fifteen minutes after she first went into the vault. Doesn’t look back. Doesn’t rush. Her face is tight, though. Is she scared? Sad?

Whatever it is, I feel a nagging pull to improve her condition.

That’s not like me. Usually.

Last woman I had any involvement with was a bartender named Naomi. We’d meet up after her shift. Her rules were very simple: No spending the night, and no questions. That suited me just fine. I don’t do mess or complications. They don’t mesh with my lifestyle or my profession.

It ended just as unceremoniously as it began. She asked me about my past. If I’d been married. If I’d been in love. The answer to all of her questions was no, because I’ve seen how much love costs men.

I can’t afford it.

But her questions served their purpose. I knew instantly that she was close to asking for more, so I disappeared like a thief in the night.

My phone buzzes. I answer without looking.

“Yeah,” I say.

“You still alive over there?”

I smirk. “Just barely.”

It’s AJ. He’s ex-military like me. Ranger battalion. It only took two tours in the sandbox together before we became the kind of friends that feel like brothers.

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