Page 307 of Kentrell

“I don’t care! I don’t care!” Mars shouted, sticking her fingers in her ears like a whole child, then turned back to me.

“Kentrell.”

“Wussup?”

“Did you try to kill Zoe?”

“Mars!” Zoe yelled, face damn near going pale.

“You can’t ask him that!” Ayesha chimed in, scandalized.

“Nah.” I answered straight up. Voice low. Steady. “I was never on that with Zoe. She know that.”

“How can she know what you’re thinking?” Ayesha folded her arms, giving me every bit of her attitude.

“Cause she know me… and you don’t.” My tone matched hers, sharper than she expected.

Mars snickered off to the side—same way Wani would when shit got tense. When it got fun.

“And? I’m her family,” Ayesha shot back, like that was supposed to mean something.

“I know my cousin,” she added with her chin up, putting extra weight on the wordcousinlike it was supposed to check me.

I smiled. Slow and dangerous.

“Yeah… and I know my shorty.” I waved her off, catching the way Zoe’s breath hitched.

“I know you shouldn’t be here,” Ayesha snapped, pushing forward. “Whether you decided on day one or the last day not to act on whatever Malcolm had planned… bottom line is you never told Zoe?—”

“Shaka, stop,” Zoe’s voice cracked right over hers, shaky but loud enough to cut through.

I leaned back in the chair, dragging my finger under my nose, glancing out the window, trying to calm the hell down.

I got where Ayesha was coming from… but she was starting to piss me off. Tossing out accusations… questioning my character like she knew the first thing about me. Like she had any idea what I’d done… what I was still doing… to protect Zoe.

“No! Because this shit could’ve gone so far left, and what the fuck was we gon’ do?” Ayesha fired back at her. “He had you going against Auntie Zora?—”

“I ain’t turn her against Pokie ass,” I barked without thinking.

Zoe’s head snapped toward me so fast it was like I’d called her name.

Her eyes narrowed, confused… and a little stunned.

“How do you know that name?”

“Come here,” I said, standing up and ignoring the looks from everybody else in the room.

I glanced at Mars, who—surprisingly—was way more mellow now than she’d been five minutes ago.

“What room she use?” I asked.

“The one to the left,” Mars answered, pointing it out casually like this wasn’t a whole shift in the mood. “What? He asked.”

I stalked off, heading straight for the door Mars pointed to. Left it wide open behind me. Walked straight to the bed anddropped down like I owned the space. Like I knew Zoe would follow.

The bedroom matched the rest of the crib. Velvet. Flowers that weren’t really flowers. Plants in every corner. Another damn neon sign—this one hung right over the bed:

Wet Dreams

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