CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
JACKIE
Downtown Philadelphia looked different after dark.
Not the busy, impatient version Jackie was used to seeing during the day.
This version of the city was quieter and far removed from the horn-blaring, traffic-packed chaos that ruled the streets when the sun was up.
At night, the city came alive. The streets shined wide and glossy as skyscrapers lined every stretch of city block.
Jazmine Sullivan played low through the speakers as Cash maneuvered through the streets with one hand on the wheel and the other resting near the center console.
The sound of Pick Up Your Feelings filled the quiet that settled inside the car, and for a good while, nobody said anything.
Outside, the city carried on around them.
Traffic lights clicked from red to green as cars drifted past in steady streams. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed briefly before fading back into the night.
Inside the car, though, Jackie sat in the passenger seat, trying her hardest to decompress.
Meanwhile, Max shuffled from one side of the backseat to the other, his face pressed against the window, taking the entire city in like a little tourist. “Mommy, look—a skyscraper!” he said, pointing out the window.
“That one tall as heck.” Jackie shot him a quick look through the rearview mirror. “Maximus.”
“Sorry,” he muttered quickly. But it only lasted about two seconds before he pointed again.
“Look at that one! Mommy, that one even bigger than the other one.” Jackie let out a quiet breath, rubbing the side of her temple as she sank deeper into the passenger seat.
For the first time since her car decided to call it quits, Jackie felt something she hadn’t felt all night.
Relief. It was quiet, and it crept in slowly.
But it finally allowed her to breathe again.
Max kept turning his head from one side of the car to the other, staring out the window like the city had just turned into his personal field trip.
“Coach,” he asked suddenly, leaning forward between the seats, “is your house in a skyscraper?” Cash glanced at him briefly in the rearview mirror before giving a small nod. “Yeah.” Max’s eyes widened.
“My auntie Kormia live in one too,” he said proudly.
Jackie’s shoulders stiffened, already sensing where this was about to go.
“Well… she used to,” Max added, thinking it through.
“Now she live in her nail salon.” He paused for a second before continuing.
“My mommy said her bum-ass—” Max caught himself mid-word.
“…daddy won’t move out her condo.” Jackie’s head snapped toward the back seat so fast it damn near gave her whiplash.
“Maximus. Really.” Her voice came out low and sharp as she stared at him for a long second.
Max blinked at her, clearly confused about what he had said wrong.
“I’m not telling our business—” he tried to say. Jackie shot him a look so sharp it cut the rest of his sentence clean off. “Mind your business and stay outta my mouth.” Max sank back into his seat, mumbling something in audible under his breath—and for a second, the car went quiet again.
Jackie kept her eyes fixed forward, feeling the heat crawl up the back of her neck.
Cash didn’t say anything. But in the rearview mirror, she caught the corner of his mouth twitch, like he was fighting back a laugh.
Jackie shot him a quick look, and Cash lifted one brow slightly before turning his attention back to the road.
“Kids be messy,” he said calmly. “And so do adults,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.
Cash threw one hand up in mock surrender, the corner of his mouth lifting.
“Look, don’t nobody care your cousin live in her nail salon,” he said, unable to hide the smirk.
“She don’t,” Jackie shot back quickly, though her eyes met his for just a second too long.
Cash didn’t even look at her. “She absolutely does,” he said evenly, eyes still fixed on the road.
“So before you open your mouth to lie…” He paused just long enough for the words to land.
“let’s just not.” Jackie turned toward him, ready to argue.
But before she could— “Coach!” Fat Daddy’s voice burst through the car from the backseat. Both adults looked up at the rearview mirror, and Max was leaning forward between the seats again. “What floor of the skyscraper you live on?” Cash didn’t hesitate. “The forty-second.”
“Forty-second?!” Max repeated, turning toward Jackie like he needed a witness.
“Like… four-two?” Cash glanced at him in the mirror. “Yeah. Like four-two.”
Max leaned back slowly, shaking his head.
“That’s high, Coach.” Jackie’s eyebrows lifted slightly despite herself.
“You live in the penthouse or something?” she asked before she could stop herself.
Cash shook his head lightly. “Nah.” He turned the wheel smoothly as they crossed another intersection.
“My building goes up to the fifty-seventh floor.”
“Fifty-seven?” Max whispered, sitting there quietly for a second, processing the number like it was something mythical.
Jackie watched him for a moment before letting her gaze drift back toward Cash.
Forty-two floors. She didn’t say it out loud again, but the number sat differently in her head now.
Because Jackie had grown up in this city, and even she knew there weren’t many people in Philly living forty-two floors up.
The rest of the ride settled into something quieter, but not uncomfortable.
At least not anymore. Jackie let her head fall back against the seat for a moment, finally allowing herself to come down off the edge she’d been on all night.
Her car breaking down again had pushed her past her limit.
Then, like an idiot, she left her house keys sitting in the middle console.
And if she were being honest, she didn’t have it like that right now to be paying for a locksmith.
Which meant Kormia needed to answer her phone.
And soon. Jackie sent Kormia a text earlier when they first got in Cash’s car.
She assured her the situation was under control and Cash was bringing them home.
After that, Kormia’s notifications were immediately silenced, and her phone was clearly on Do Not Disturb.
Which was typical Kormia. Jackie pulled the phone from her lap and glanced down at the screen again.
Still nothing. She sighed quietly before locking it and setting it back on her thigh.
That was when she snuck a glance over at Cash. Just a quick one. Her original plan tonight had been to keep it cute, accept the ride home, and not say shit to him if she could help it. She wasn’t over the club shit, and seeing him with Zambia today confirmed it.
That, compounded with the apology on the field and them looking like a power couple, unearthed feelings from that night she thought she reconciled.
Still, he showed up for her. Handling shit.
Like it was nothing. And she couldn’t lie…
it softened her a little. Jackie knew Cash didn’t need a damn thing from Target.
Everything in those bags had been for Max.
The book, the pajamas, even the damn deodorant.
Her eyes lingered on his profile for a moment before she looked away again.
Jackie hated how easy it felt being looked after, especially by him.
She had already experienced it once today, with Najee coming to her rescue.
Now Cash was swooping in to save the day.
That made something in her chest loosen in a way that felt both comforting and dangerous.
Because the last time she let a man take care of her completely, Marcus had made sure he took it away from her indefinitely.
Cash turned off JFK Blvd and eased the car toward the riverfront towers that lined the edge of Center City.
The building itself looked like something out of a movie, it was chrome, glass, and damn near futuristic.
The architecture was stunning, and all Jackie kept thinking was, damn.
So this is how the other half lived. Jackie lived in a condo once, but it was nothing like this.
Fat Daddy’s father, Maximillian, owned a condo in Center City, but his was nowhere near the riverfront.
It was definitely levels to this shit, Jackie thought as they finally arrived at his building.
A security gate lifted after Cash tapped a key card.
Then they drove up to another checkpoint and passed another guard booth.
By the time they passed the third checkpoint, Jackie realized this place had more security than some hospitals.
Cash drove them down into the underground garage, and Jackie’s eyes widened before she could stop them.
The place looked like the fucking auto show.
Rows of luxury cars lined the garage like they were on display.
Maserati’s. Porsches. Bentleys. Ferraris.
Even the lighting down there was different—clean, bright, reflecting off polished paint and chrome.
Cash didn’t slow down. He just kept driving until they reached the top section of the garage, where it opened into a quieter level.
Up here, it was almost empty. Just three cars parked across the wide concrete space.
An all-black Rolls-Royce Wraith. An all-black Hellcat.
And the final car—a matte black Range Rover Jackie had seen on an episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians.
Cash pulled into his spot and killed the engine.
Before the car even fully settled, Max was already moving in the backseat, practically vibrating.
Then suddenly— “Mommy… I’m itchy.” Jackie turned around, and Max was scratching his arms like his skin was on fire.
Those fucking leaves. Jackie closed her eyes for half a second and prayed this boy didn’t have poison oak. Max scratched harder.