Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Zena walked into the apartment carrying a bag of Jerk Chicken.
“Danger?” she called out, scanning the layout.
She found him in the bedroom through the glass door, and she saw him motionless on the balcony.
Sliding the glass door open, she stepped out into the humid night air. “Hey. Did you eat? I brought back some food from that Jamaican spot down the street.”
He didn’t answer. He kept his eyes locked on the waters of the James River below.
“I’m going to ask you a question, Zena,” Danger said, his voice cold. “And I don’t want you to lie to me.”
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a pink ring, and laid it on the patio table alongside a neatly folded pawn slip. With one finger, he slid them across the glass toward her.
Zena looked down at the deep-pink stone, then back up at him, her heart skipping a beat. “I’m confused. What is this?”
“I think I went to every pawn shop from here to the Carolinas looking for my mother’s ring,” Danger said, turning his head to look at her.
He picked up the piece of jewelry, holding it inches from her face.
“All her other pieces have been popping up on the street, but this bad boy was found all the way down in Raleigh, pawned by a C. Fitz. And by pure chance, the owner still had copies of his surveillance tape from that day.” His eyes narrowed to razor blades.
“What do you know? It was you all along.”
The air left Zena’s lungs. “Wait… Tate gave me that ring. I was broke, so I—”
“Don’t lie to me, Zena!” He began twirling the ring on his index finger in a mocking gesture.
The dots began to connect in her head, forming a picture that horrified her. “I promise you, Danger, he just gave it to me. I didn’t know—”
“Did you have something to do with the robbery?”
“Did you…Did you say robbery?” Her stomach plummeted to her knees.
Danger didn't yell. Instead, he reached into his waistband, drew his matte-black 9mm and set it on the table with a metallic click. “Just tell me what happened. And don’t leave a single fucking thing out.”
The sight of the gun brought the memory to the forefront of her mind, and the nightmare she had spent years burying surged back in a violent wave.
June 2016
It was supposed to be a simple setup at the Holiday Inn on Broad Street.
Tate and Rodney had used her as bait for a rapper named Murk because rumors said he liked pretty, brown-skinned girls.
She was supposed to reel him into the after-party and bring him back to the hotel so Tate and Rodney could rob him.
She remembered sitting in Murk’s red Mercedes, stiffening as his hand crept up her thigh, feeling sick to her stomach as his gold teeth flashed.
“Be right back, pretty girl,” Maurice told her, parking outside a brick row home on Churchill. “Give me ten minutes. Gotta give my mom’s some money.”
She had texted Tate the address change in a panic.
She remembered Tate pulling up in a beater, Rodney slithering out of the darkness wearing a black skully, their faces turning cold when she said they were inside playing cards.
She remembered the sheer terror as she realized they weren't waiting for the hotel. They were going inside right now.
“What the fuck, Tate! I don’t want anybody to get hurt!” she had whined.
“Three minutes max,” Tate hissed before pulling his mask down.
She had slammed her eyes shut in the car, blocking out the world, too much of a coward to see what happened next.
Ten minutes later, Tate had sprinted back to the car, tires screeching as they fled across the bridge to a Manchester chop shop.
That night, three people lost their lives in a home invasion.
And just like every time Tate did his dirty work, she had asked no questions.
She just took the cash, and they ran to Atlanta.
The silence on the balcony was suffocating.
Danger just stood there, staring back out at the city lights reflecting off the river.
“Can you say something?” Zena whispered, her face soaked with tears, her chest heaving as her heart battered against her ribs.
“What the fuck do you want me to say?” Danger gripped the balcony railing so hard his knuckles turned white, then numb.
“Something! Anything!” she cried, desperate. “I told you what happened, and now you’re just quiet. I had nothing to do with your mother’s death!”
“Oh, but you fucking did, Zena.” He let out a maniacal laugh that never reached his eyes. “If yo’ stupid ass hadn't gotten in that car with Maurice and hadn't led your team of nigga’s straight to my mama's house, she would still be breathing right now.”
Zena let out a sob. “What was I supposed to do?” He was standing on a high horse, acting like he wouldn't have done whatever it took to survive if he had been in her shoes.
“Be a decent human being! THAT’S WHAT!” Danger snarled, stepping into her space.
“Oh, so you’re Mister Innocent now?” Zena shot back, anger masking her terror.
“I ain’t never cost nobody their life because of my actions, Zena.”
“So slinging pills and coke don’t kill people every single day?”
Danger spun on his heel, his eyes narrowing to venomous slits. “Intentions. It’s all about intentions, girl. Sure, the street game is wicked. But once it leaves my hands, I have no control over what a motherfucker does with it. I did what I had to do to take care of my family. To survive!”
“SO DID I!” she screamed, her voice so loud it pierced the night air.
“So, you just had to start setting niggas up?” Danger bellowed back. “You could have gone home to your daddy! You could have gone to college! Hell, you could have just gone to get a normal job!”
“I had a job! I knew college wasn't for me, and you, of all people, know damn well why I couldn't go back to my daddy’s house!” Zena’s lower lip quivered. “I did that shit once. Once. And I never did it again. I made Tate promise never to put me in that position again!”
Danger looked at her, his jaw tight, his expression blanking out as if he were looking at a stranger. He tried to push past her to get inside, but she stepped directly into his path, her chest heaving.
“Move,” he bellowed.
“Not until you talk to me!” They stood toe-to-toe, his large frame looming over her.
“I fucking did talk to you. I heard your whole little sob story, and now I’m fucking done with you.”
“What do you mean you're done? I didn't pull the trigger!” She stepped closer into his personal space, her hands reaching out to grab his. Her last lifeline to hold onto him.
Danger snatched his hands back as if her touch were acid. “Get the fuck off me, Zena!”
“No!”
Danger stepped back, biting down on the inside of his lip.
“We have to finish this.” She wept, undone by fear of losing him. “I need you to understand where I was coming from.”
“Understand what, exactly? What did you use to do for a dollar? That your hoe-ass probably fucked for it, too? How many other niggas have you set up, huh? Do I need to watch my fucking back around you?”
Zena felt like she’d been struck in the chest. “Are you even listening to me? It was one time!”
“One time was all it took,” Danger roared, “for you to be an accessory to a fucking homicide! You really had me fooled, Zena. With the whole sweet, innocent act. You really ain’t shit!”
Zena sank against the glass sliding door, broken, bawling so hard her chest burned as if he had driven a blade straight through her heart.
Karma.
That’s what this was. A sin she’d committed years ago was finally catching up to her.
She had been as quiet as a mouse in that car, waiting for them to finish the robbery.
She never saw what happened inside. Even when they got back to the house, and the table was covered in blood, money, and jewelry, she still didn't know anyone had died.
Was she supposed to go inside and do a welfare check?
How was she supposed to know they'd killed his mother?
People got killed every day on the North Side of Richmond, it was as common as corner stores with bulletproof glass.
They had moved to Atlanta right after. Life went on until now.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” she whispered into her hands.
“You can keep the sorry, baby.” Danger stepped forward, his face so close to hers that she could smell the wintergreen on his breath. “Be out of my shit by tomorrow morning.”
The words landed like weights, knocking the last of the air from her lungs.
Without another word, Danger slipped past her and walked into the apartment, leaving her alone on the balcony, her clothes soaked with tears.
A once-beautiful love story, brought to its knees by a ghost.