Page 218 of Kentrell

Once they disappeared, Oshon came back out, wiping his hands on a paper towel, the playful look on his face gone. His expression shifted—low, serious, like we were back on business.

He caught my eye and tilted his head toward the hallway. “Trell. Lemme holla at you right quick.”

I stood, followed him into the corridor, keeping my voice low. “What’s up?”

Oshon didn’t waste time. “That intel you wanted on Malcolm? I got it.”

My whole body went still.

Oshon kept talking, voice low and measured. “I ain’t tell nobody. Not even Wave. But you was right. He been pokin’ around places he ain’t got no business. Putting in calls to folks I ain’t heard from in years. Asking questions. Moving pieces like he tryna stir something.”

My jaw tightened.

Oshon stepped in closer. “And that ain’t all. Somebody moving for him too. Quiet. Clean. Lotta little whispers that don’t add up. He playing chess while everybody else thinking it’s checkers.”

I nodded once, sharp and quick. “Good lookin’. Hold onto all of it for now. When it’s time to make that play, I want it clean.”

“Say less.” We dapped up.

By the time I stepped back into the living room, Zoe was already perched between Wani and Wave, halfway into a spades team draft like she belonged there.

I walked straight over, grabbed her hand without warning, pulled her right back to her feet and straight onto my lap again.

“Hey—” she started to protest, but I didn’t give her time. Dropped onto the couch and pulled her close like she’d never been anywhere else.

“You comfortable now?” I asked, both hands around her waist, my mouth grazing her ear just enough to make her shiver.

“Extremely,” she smirked, melting back against my chest.

“Alright then.”

The cards got dealt, a movie played low in the background, and the jokes started flying again. The vibe was easy. Loud but not tense. The kind of day that felt like summer afternoons on the block—except this time, we were grown, eating good, sitting in my house, and I had my girl tucked in my lap like she was mine… because she was.

We talked trash, argued over scores, passed candy bowls around, and played like none of us had real problems waiting outside these walls.

Until it came up.

“Damn,” Wave said, flipping over a card and shaking his head. “Thanksgiving in two weeks.”

Zoe perked up in my lap, laughing at whatever joke had been tossed seconds before—but I caught it. That flicker. The way her smile dipped just a little.

Oshon noticed too. “Are you going home for the holidays?” he asked, casual but curious.

Zoe gave a quick, practiced smirk. “Where do you think I’m from?” she joked, brushing it off like it was nothing. “All my family lives in Hyde Park.”

But I saw it clear as day. That little crack she didn’t want them to see.

She deflected fast. “What do y’all usually do?”

“Shit, we kick it here,” Wani answered, tossing down a spade with extra flair. “My brother hires a chef to cook some crazy shit up. All the guys fall through. Drinks. Food. Whole vibe.”

“You should come,” Kensei said, eyes flicking toward her, voice quiet but steady.

Zoe smiled for real this time, softer but wider. “I’ll be there. And I’m bringing my friends.”

That got Wani’s attention real quick. He sat up like somebody hit a buzzer. “Friends? They look like you?”

“Man, you don’t need another female losing her mind over yo crazy ass,” Oshon muttered, making Wave snort into his drink.

---