Page 173 of River & Crown
"Crown?" I sat up, heart already crawling to a panic. "Talk to me."
After pulling his shirt over his head, he glanced in my direction, and somehow, it made me feel small.
"I'ma ask you one question," he said, voice low and unreadable. "Don't lie to me, Four."
I swallowed, throat tightening. "Okay."
His jaw ticked. "A few years back, did you drive Sincere while he sprayed a block in the Grove?"
My whole body stilled.
"Crown—"
"Yes or no, River."
I looked away. "Yes."
He nodded slowly, as if that were all he needed to hear. His eyes didn't even close. They just grew darker.
"That nigga wanted me dead, and you helped to make that shit almost happen," he flatly revealed.
"What?" I choked. "No, I didn't know! I didn't know that's what he planned. He didn't tell me! I swear to God, I didn't know?—"
"I love you, Four," he said, voice cracking enough to make me think tears might follow. "But I can't trust you." He walkedtoward the bedroom door, and my heart sank to the pit of my stomach.
"Crown, please!" I sobbed, scrambling off the bed, reaching for him. "Please don't leave! I didn't know!"
Crown shook his head and walked out, the door clicking shut behind him like a final goodbye. My knees buckled. I collapsed in the middle of the room, a scream ripping from somewhere deep in my chest, loud, broken, and jagged with pain. Tears blurred everything. I curled into myself, shaking so hard it felt like heartbreak was trying to claw its way out of my skin.
"This can't be real," I whispered into the floor.
I cried, mourning my relationship until the sobs dulled, and the silence pressed down, letting sleep take me like the mercy I didn't deserve.
Chapter 45
Navy Achebe
"Hey, sweetheart, how can I help you today?" Monique smiled, just as she did every time I came to bother her at the nurse's station.
Of all the nurses that I've encountered during Honor's stay, Monique was my favorite. She was an older Nigerian woman who reminded me so much of my mother. Her energy was always warm, and when she spoke, she did so with a motherly tone that made you feel at home. She was sweet, unlike the other nurses who were more intrigued by Honor's physical appearance than his actual health. The flirting was so bad I had to pull rank. I never flaunted who my father was because I preferred to keep my life and his separate, but in this situation, I let the hospital board know they were in the presence of a Mancinelli. Honor was moved to a private wing, and only nurses I approved were allowed to care for him.
"Honor is getting frustrated again and wants to know when he'll be able to leave," I huffed, fighting back my aggravation.
"I just told that man yesterday that the recommended stay is six weeks. He's only been here for a week and a half."
"Yeah, well, he says he's good to go."
"I bet he did. Men like Honor don't register pain."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean..." Monique paused and gestured toward the chair across from her. I rounded the desk and took a seat.
"Men like Honor are built differently. The things they've been through are things most people couldn't stomach, molding how they respond to pain, to fear, even to love and life itself. I don't know his story, but whatever Honor lived through has numbed him."
"I know," I murmured.
"I don't think you do. Honor was shot, Navy. Five bullets tore through him and clipped his aorta. He coded twice on the surgery table. With that kind of trauma, most people don't come back from it. Hell, most don't even wake up again, but he did."
