Chapter 16
CASH “MONEY” BANKS
I was at Clyde’s shop getting a shape-up when Jelani’s name popped up on my screen. I sent it to voicemail, but a text came through right after.
Jelani: Pick up, bitch nigga. It’s about your nurse.
I frowned. We hadn’t talked since our argument, and yeah—I should’ve hit her up.
But between my pride and the bullshit with Marcus and Kyree, I hadn’t gotten around to it.
Nairobi was finally able to set up a private party so she could plant the bugs in Kyree’s house, and Fontaine installed an incognito tracking app on his phone under the guise of a software upgrade.
When the phone rang again, I picked up.
“What’s wrong with Jasmine?”
“You still beefin’ with her?” Jelani asked.
“We’re not beefin’.”
“So you talked to her?”
I blew air through my cheeks and pinched the bridge of my nose. “Lani, you ‘bout to piss me off. Did something happen to her?”
“Monica said somebody fucked her car up… slashed her tires and busted her windows,” he said.
My blood ran cold. I held up a hand to Clyde. “Hold up.”
Clyde froze, his clippers buzzing in the air.
“When was this?” I asked.
“The other night, when she got off work. She’s not hurt or nothin’, but Monica said she sounded real shook—like she was crying and shit.”
“Why she ain’t call me?” I muttered, more to myself than him.
“‘Cause you too busy sulking about her ex being the opps.”
“Whatever, nigga.”
“I’m lying?” he shot back. “Go check on your girl, man.” He hung up.
I flipped my phone face down on my thigh and rubbed my jaw.
Who the fuck would want to come for Jasmine like that? Did she call the cops? How’d she get home if Monica didn’t help her?
Clyde brushed hair clippings from my neck. “Uh oh. What’s the problem?”
“I’m good,” I muttered, rolling my shoulders.
He snorted. “Nigga, I’ve known you my whole life. When you get to tappin’ your foot like that, some shit is up.”
I looked down, not realizing my foot was bouncing.
“Just some shit with my girl,” I said. Jasmine wasn’t technically mine—yet—but Clyde didn’t need the details.
“Hm,” he pulled the cape off. “You fucked up?”
“Why you assume I’m in the wrong?” I stood, pulling out a few bills.
“‘Cause I’m a man. And most of the time, we be fucking up,” he chuckled as he took the money.
He was right—this was partly on me. If I’d just called Jasmine, we probably would’ve squashed all this. But I didn’t. And now she was out here dealing with this shit on her own.
“Look,” Clyde said, reaching for a broom. “I don’t know what happened, but as your one married homie? Call her and work it out. That is, if you actually give a fuck. If you don’t?” He shrugged. “Plenty of fine-ass women in the city.”
“Aight, ol’ Master Yoda ass,” I said. He laughed and called over his next client.
I sat in my car for a good five minutes before deciding to call Jasmine. When she didn’t answer, I called again.
“What, Cash?” she answered, sounding irritated.
“Damn, Jasmine. I’m bothering you? Hello to you too.”
She sighed, “I’m tired, Money. I just got home and need to shower.”
“What happened to your car?” I asked.
“If you’re asking, then you already know,” she snapped. “Why do you even care? I haven’t heard from you in weeks, and all of a sudden you give a shit?”
“So you not gon’ tell me?”
“I’m not about to do this with you.”
Two beeps, and the call ended.
I stared at the display for a second before redialing. It went straight to voicemail.
Did this woman just block me?
I must’ve broken every traffic law flying to her place. She had me fucked up if she thought she could ice me out.
I was still tight by the time I pulled up to her building. I slowed as I passed her parking spot and saw a new black Mercedes sitting there with temporary plates.
Unless she won the lottery in the last forty-eight hours, that wasn’t her car.
“I’m buggin’,” I muttered. I circled the lot, making sure that was indeed her spot before double-parking in front of the building’s entrance. Her car gets fucked up, and now she got a whole new whip without saying anything? The fuck was she on?
I let myself into her building with the copy of her fob I made, fuming the entire elevator ride up to her floor.
“Jasmine!” I banged hard on her door, my voice echoing down the quiet hallway.
A few seconds passed before I heard the locks unlatch. The door cracked open, and there she was—wrapped in a towel with her shower cap on, still damp and looking like she was two seconds from swinging on me.
“Really, Cash?”
“Really, Jasmine?” I retorted, matching her tone. “You just gon’ hang up and block me?”
She rolled her eyes. “My phone died, and I took a shower.”
I pushed against the door, trying to look past her. “You got a nigga in there or something?”
“Can you stop?” she hissed. “No one’s here.”
“Then let me in.”
She wedged herself in the doorway. “We can talk right here.”
She was acting like I wasn’t welcome in her house, and that only pissed me off more. I stepped closer. “Yo, I’m not in the mood for this,” I said, lowering my voice. “I’ll cut up in this hallway—try me.”
Jasmine glared, but stepped aside to let me in.
“What do you want, Cash?” she asked sharply, slamming the door behind me.
“Where’d you get that car from? What happened to yours?”
“Like I said on the phone—if you’re asking, then you already know. There’s nothing else to tell.” She started to push past me, but I grabbed her wrist and spun her around.
“Where’d the new whip come from?”
She snatched her arm back. “None of your fucking business.”
I started pacing in her entryway, rubbing the top of my head. “Why you ain’t call me when it happened?”
“Would you even have answered?” She challenged. “I didn’t feel like dealing with your bullshit, so I handled it, because that’s what grown people do.”
“Why didn’t you have Monica help?”
“She was at work. And I knew if she told Jelani, he’d tell you—which is exactly what happened.”
“So who’d you call?”
Her mouth opened, then shut. Something flashed in her eyes before her face hardened again.
“Who, Jasmine?”
“Marcus.”
I nodded slowly. “But it wasn’t serious, right?”
“What aren’t you getting?” she said, clapping her hands for emphasis. “I didn’t have anybody else to call!”
“You fuck him for that new car?” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth.
Jasmine’s face twisted like I’d slapped her, but she caught herself. Her lips curled in a cold smile as she crossed her arms.
“He bought me the car, and then I fucked him. You happy now? That’s what you wanna hear, Cash? So you can stay mad? I didn’t even ask him for that shit!”
“I didn’t—”
She wagged a finger at me. “No. Don’t backtrack now. You said what you said. I don’t know why you even care. Haven’t you been busy with your baby mama?”
I reared back. “Baby mama? The fuck are you talking about?”
“Don’t act dumb,” Jasmine said, rolling her neck at me. “Princess told me she was having your baby.”
I hadn’t seen Princess since the night she and Jas got into it at my party. I’d been ignoring her calls and texts for weeks.
“And you believed her?” I asked, squinting.
“She had a bump and everything!”
I rubbed my temples. Dealing with Marcus’s shit was already blowing me—now Princess wanted to start some shit too?
With an annoyed sigh, I pulled out my phone, found her name, and put it on speaker.
It rang twice before she picked up.
“Hey–”
“Where you at?” I cut her off. I wasn’t trying to exchange pleasantries with this bitch.
“I’m at the shop. Why?”
“Bet. I’m ‘bout to come through,” I hung up and shoved my phone back in my pocket. “Get dressed.”
Jasmine looked at me like I had five heads. “Excuse me?”
“Put some clothes on. Unless you tryna go out wrapped in a towel.”
I started toward the living room, but she stepped in front of me and blocked the way.
“You don’t get to pop up on me, talk to me crazy, then start throwing out orders like you run shit,” she said, jabbing her finger in my chest.
I looked down at her hand, then back up at her face.
“I swear I hate you,” she muttered as she spun around and stormed off to her bedroom, making sure to slam the door behind her.
I sank onto the couch and started flipping through channels.
Jasmine reappeared a short while later in black leggings and a gray crop top, her face still scrunched up as she snatched her purse off the table. “Well?”
I shook my head, chuckling as I turned off the TV and pushed off the couch.
She didn’t say shit as we walked to the elevator. When we got in, she posted up in the corner with her lip poked out, arms crossed like a brat the entire ride down.
“Don’t slam my shit like you did the last time,” I warned when we got to my car.
She sucked her teeth and climbed in, but closed the door softly.
Princess’s shop wasn’t far from Jasmine’s. I pulled up in front of the nail salon, cut the engine, and turned to face Jasmine.
“About what I said earlier…” I pressed my tongue against the inside of my cheek. “I was outta line. I let my anger get the best of me—I shouldn’t have come at you like that.”
She let out a dry huff, still looking straight ahead.
“Stay in the car,” I told her. “If she gets reckless, let me handle it, alright?”
She nodded and rolled the window down.
Through the storefront glass, I spotted Princess laughing with one of her girls.
Her friend noticed me and tapped Princess on the shoulder, pointing in my direction.
Princess lit up instantly when she saw it was me.
She smoothed her shirt and strutted out the door with a little too much pep in her step.
I leaned against the passenger door, blocking her view of Jasmine.
My eyes dropped to her stomach, looking for the “bump” Jasmine mentioned. It was there, barely noticeable, but it was there.
“You got something to tell me?” I asked as she approached.
Her smile faltered. “Um… no?”
“You sure? ‘Cause I heard you had some news to share.”
I stepped aside, giving her a clear view of Jasmine in the passenger seat.