Chapter 6
Chapter Six
NAJI
“ O kay, Naji… just g-grab what you n-need and go,” I muttered to myself while frantically packing, hands trembling so bad I could barely hold onto anything. “Medication—check. Clothes and shoes—check. C-C-C-C-harger—check. Tea—double!”
My shoulder snapped sideways, sending the charger flying from my hand for the third time. I winced, frustration bubbling just beneath my skin.
“ Neeeeeeeeeeed !” The word ripped out of me, stretched thin and high like a wire about to snap.
I hated that one—it made me feel like a toddler begging for something I couldn’t name.
A tightness pulled through my jaw. I shook it off, forcing my focus back to the bag.
I grabbed the envelope Blu gave me and, for the first time, counted the money inside.
Twenty-five thousand. That’s the amount he told Gatez he had.
My fingers trembled as I stared at it longer than I should have.
If Blu knew he owed someone… someone as dangerous as Gatez, why would he give money to me?
Did he know he was going to die? Or… did he want to die, and gave me it to me to keep Gatez from getting it any of it?
Then again, why would he beg for more time or even let it be known he had a portion of the money if death was what he wanted?
None of it lined up, none of it made sense, and that was probably an answer I’d never get.
What made it worse was the gnawing suspicion that maybe I was never supposed to understand.
Maybe Blu dragged me into his mess deliberately, leaving me holding a weight he couldn’t carry anymore.
Money from a dead man wasn’t a blessing; it was bloodstained inheritance…
a curse dressed in bills. And the sickest part was, I couldn’t even decide whether to keep it close or run from it as fast as I could.
I didn’t even want to think about how much blood that money might’ve been tied to. Clean or not, I folded the envelope shut and shoved it into the side pocket of my duffel.
I had no plan or destination; just a deep, clawing fear that staying there meant dying slow—or fast. Both were bad.
I picked the bag up, then suddenly froze.
A creak.
Movement.
On the stairs.
I held my breath and stared at the door like it could read my mind. My heart pounded so loud I thought it might knock against my ribs and break free.
Then…
Knock. Knock.
My body convulsed suddenly; a violent jolt tore through me before I could brace for it.
My right shoulder jerked upward like it was dodging a bullet no one had fired, and my arm flung outward, fingers splaying as if trying to shake off something invisible and crawling.
My jaw clamped shut for half a second—then dropped open with a sharp, guttural yelp that felt like it had been yanked straight from my throat without permission.
"S-S-S-S-S-Shit," I murmured, pressing my palm against my mouth.
"Hey, uh, Glitchy? It’s Chi. We ain’t here to hurt you, aight? Just open the door."
The calm in his voice threw me off. It wasn’t soft, but not threatening, either—like he was trying to keep a squirrel from darting into traffic.
“Uh-uh,” I croaked. “J-J-Just give me a minute.”
I was already eyeing the window like it was a portal to freedom.
“Yeah… see, not really how this works,” he replied. “We’re on a tight schedule and I gotta get home to my fiancée before she changes the locks, burns my clothes, and tells Facebook I died in a tragic cheating accident.”
"Open it," Gatez ordered.
His demand wasn’t loud or aggressive, but there was a weighted finality to his tone. I hadn’t taken Chi seriously, not really. It seemed he always laced his threats with jokes. But Gatez? His two words felt like a death sentence whispered slowly—no gavel, no jury, just execution.
A sharp tic rippled through me.
“God’s watching… so is the FBI!”
My eyelids fluttered rapidly—four times in a row, fast and panicked like I was trying to erase reality. I inhaled and wrapped my fingers around the doorknob, steadying myself with the kind of restraint that didn’t feel natural… then turned it.
When the door creaked open, they were both stood there wearing opposite expression.
Chi had his usual smug look, like the whole situation amused him more than it should’ve.
Gatez, on the other hand, stood poised—stone-still and composed.
His stance was sharp, almost militant, the kind of posture that made a person question whether someone was there to comfort them or interrogate them.
Where Chi’s look said don’t take it serious, Gatez’s look said take it serious or die . I stood in the doorway caught between clowning and consequence.
"Cool. You got your bag ready," Chi said, glancing at my duffel. "No time like the present. We’re taking a field trip."
My neck tightened, my mouth flew open, and out came an involuntary, drawn-out, “Sticky biscuits! Bootyhole casserole!”
Chi’s brows shot up. “Man, what?”
“I didn’t mean to say that!” I choked out, horrified. “I—I can’t help it! I—I say crazy things when I’m—when I’m stressed or scared!”
Gatez looked at me, and for a second, his expression softened—like he hated having to be the bad guy.
“I’m really not trying to shake you up more than you already are, but this is settled. You’re coming with us,” Gatez announced calmly.
“Where... where are we going?” I asked out of curiosity, my voice barely a breath.
"My place,” he stated like it was law—unchallenged, unmoved, and not up for negotiation.
“Which, by the way, is nice and big as hell,” Chi added.
“Gated, secluded area, no neighbors, which means no nosy Karens peeking through blinds, Amazon packages don’t get stolen…
just people. And if he decides to shoot somebody at 3 a.m., ain’t nobody dialing 911.
It’s also clean, like even the dust know better than to settle there.
The best part? You’ll have a chef on call, and the snacks go craaaaaaaazy—I’m talkin’ Oreos, the bougie kind , that had to catch a flight to get here. ”
Chi planted his hands on his hips like a proud realtor showing off prime real estate, his grin wide enough to sell the lie.
“You gon’ be good…” he continued, “… long as you don’t call him by his government name in public…
at night, ask too many questions, breath too loud when he’s thinking, or chew too loud around him…
that might be your last meal. And please don’t start levitating and fuck around and hurl a TV remote at this crazy nigga…
or anything for that matter. Most importantly, don’t touch the thermostat.
He’ll kill faster over AC settings than he will over money. ”
Considering the situation, nothing Chi said should’ve been funny or taken lightly—but I’ll admit it, I almost laughed.
With Chi, it was difficult to distinguish whether he was being serious or just flat-out clowning, trying to lighten the weight of the moment.
However, the look on Gatez’s face stopped the sound in my throat.
He wasn’t amused… not even a little. If he was, he had a hard way of showing it—like humor had to crawl through glass and barbed wire before it could reach him.
“Chi,” Gatez finally spoke, his voice flat, calm, and heavy enough to kill the joke mid-air.
Chi threw his hands up like an innocent bystander.
“I’m just giving her a visual tour. Full disclosure builds trust.”
Although some of the things Chi mentioned sounded like luxury, I couldn’t ignore the truth pressing at the back of my mind. I didn’t know them—not really. And I damn sure didn’t trust them enough to feel safe just because the house had gates, a chef, and imported snacks.
A prison dressed up in luxury is still a prison.
“Please don’t—don’t make me go with you!
” I pleaded, my voice shaking. “I told you—I-I swear I don’t know anything!
Please—I don’t even know who I— nachos —I saw!
I don’t even…” My chest heaved. “ Chicken noodle Beyoncé!” I yelped out, lightly slapping my palm against my cheek like it might stop the words from bubbling up.
“I don’t even watch crime shows! Ice cream, salsa, scream, scream —stop it! I won’t speak of this to an-anyone!”
Gatez took a step closer, eyes locked on mine. “All the reasons why you’re still breathing… because I somewhat believe you. Still, I’m going to make sure you never do. Now let’s go.”
Gatez’s hand didn’t grab mine, but he motioned like I had the option to walk on my own.
I did.
Chi shook his head, grinning. “Man, this the wildest kidnapping I’ve ever done… or seen.”
As we descended the stairs, my eyes flicked—unwillingly—to the stage.
That’s where it happened. Where Blu dropped like a puppet with cut strings… where the sound of a gunshot had frozen time. Now… it was spotless… chillingly spotless. There was no blood, outline or indication that someone’s life had ended right there; just a polished floor and a forgotten mic stand.
My knees buckled slightly, but I kept moving.
Outside, the May air hung heavy—humid and still, like the night had soaked up all of the day's sweat and decided to keep it. I didn’t know if it was the weather, my nerves, or him … but something told me that my life would never be the same after that night. And the night knew it before I did.
A black SUV idled at the curb like it’d been waiting its whole life for that moment. Chi was already hopping in the front, whistling some off-key tune like he was going on a late night Wal-Mart run and not kidnapping someone.
When we made it to the car door, I halted. Gatez reached past me, opened it, and held it steady.
He didn’t say “ladies first,” but the quiet way he held the door sent a shiver through me—not fear, not comfort, but something caught in between.
It was such a small gesture but coming from a man who’d killed someone less than an hour ago, it felt surreal. And somehow, that scared me more than if he’d dragged me out by my hair.
Gatez waited while I slid into the back seat, then got in beside me, closing the door behind him.
Silence crept in like smoke under a locked door. Until Chi, of course, peeled it back.
“Y’all looking real cozy back there,” he grinned, glancing in the mirror. “Might as well hold hands and pick out wedding colors. I can pull up Dess’s Pinterest board ready if y’all need inspo.”
Dess must be his girlfriend? I wondered.
“Drive,” Gatez ordered.
Chi shrugged. “Aight. But if I catch y’all cuddling, I’m taking pictures. Glitchy and The Grim Reaper . It’s a vibe.”
I turned my face toward the window, clutching the strap of my duffel like it might anchor me back to reality.
My thoughts raced, colliding with the sharp edge of disbelief. I prayed—desperately—that was all just a warped dream, one I’d jolt awake from any second with my heart pounding, breath ragged, and safe in my own bed.
But it wasn’t a dream.
I was fully awake, fully aware, sitting beside a man who had killed someone—violently, unflinchingly—right in front of me. And the strangest part? Despite everything… even the fear that crawled under my skin, a small, shameful part of me felt safer with him than I’d ever felt in the world outside.
“Nana Li… I hope you’re watching over me. Please give me some kind of sign that everything is gonna be okay,” I silently prayed, lips barely moving as I continued to gaze out the window.
And then I saw it—a tiny storefront tucked between a deli and a laundromat. Its window display was crowded with plush toys, a row of teddy bears staring out at the street with button eyes that seemed too knowing.
That’s when it hit me.
I’d left behind the one thing that mattered most—the teddy bear. The one with Nana Li’s voice still tucked inside, a soft recording that had soothed me through more panic attacks than I could count.
I have to go back and get it.
The thought hollowed out my chest, but I didn’t dare say a word.
How could I tell the men who kidnapped me that I needed to turn around for a teddy bear?
To them, it would’ve sounded ridiculous, weak, even laughable. But to me, it wasn’t just a stuffed toy; it was a piece of her . And now it was lying somewhere in that room… alone.
I sighed deeply and curled into my seat.
I lost my grandmother once, now I lost her again. And this time, I don’t know if I’ll ever get her back.