Page 262 of Kentrell

I narrowed my eyes at his observant ass, then chuckled, shaking my head. “Yeah, I bet you did. But you’re right. I found a case I actually want to work on.”

I smiled—wide and proud—because it was true. It feltgoodto be back in this space, advocating for something that mattered. Something personal.

He didn’t know what I was working on. Not yet. But one day, I hoped to hand him something no one else ever could:his mother’s freedom.

From the way Kentrell talked about Shaniece, it was obvious he didn’t hold her to the same standards the state did. Never once had he spoken about her with resentment. There was always love in his tone—quiet, maybe, but steady and thick. Even when his words were few, the care was there. And after everything I’d read in those files… I couldn’t shake the feeling thatshe didn’t do it.

And Tasha’s email confirmed what I’d been thinking all along—Shaniece Johnson was just an easy person to pin the murder on. Her past made her disposable in the eyes of the law. But there were holes in the prosecution’s story, and if I could help uncover the truth, maybe—maybe—I could rewrite the ending they forced on her.

And on him.

I leaned back in the chair, still smiling from our quick FaceTime, when a random thought slipped out of my mouth.

“You know what I want right now?”

Kentrell raised a brow at me through the screen. “You want a pizza puff?”

I blinked, surprised he nailed it on the first try. “Yes!” I giggled. “I been craving one with fries, mild sauce, and a blue Mystic.”

“Pizza puff, fries, mild sauce, and a blue Mystic.” He repeated it slowly like he was logging it into some internal database, eyes narrowing just a little with purpose. “I gotchu, ma.”

And I knew he did. He was already plotting on making it happen—probably before I even closed his laptop.

“Anything else?” he asked, eyes darting off the screen like he was looking around.

Then came the background noise. A voice—deep, familiar in tone but not in name.

“Kentrell—wussup, nigga.”

The unmistakable clap of palms meeting, knuckles snapping into a shake.

“Whatchu need a lining? Take that shit down a lil’?”

He was getting his hair cut, I bit down on my lips already clenching my thighs at the waves my man would be getting back. Over the past two—almost three weeks, he’d put into nursing me back to my right mind, he neglected himself. He did trim his beard when necessary, but his head was another story. His hair was sprouting up in tight curls I like to pull whenever his face was between my?—

“Zoe!” Kentrell’s voice boomed into my thoughts that were slowly becoming a steamy daydream, causing me to gasp. “Whatchu doin’, ma?”

I blinked, then shook my head.

“Nothing, I was just thinking.”

“About what?”

“You…” that dick… “And my pizza puff.” I kept the second part to myself and smirked because he didn’t know what all was on my mind.

“Hungry ass.” He muttered, making me giggle.

And before I could clap back, a ding followed by hoops and hollers for whoever had walked into the shop.

“Wussup, nigga.”

“Wussup.” Kentrell responded, shaking up with the man, then his eyes flicked back to me on the screen.

“Who that is?”

The man asking didn’t even wait for a response. He face came into view beside Kentrell—smiling, eyes the same honey-gold as Kensei’s but against a smooth butter pecan complexion. I knew who he was. His name clicked in my head before he said it.

Lex Barksdale.

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