Chapter 9 #2
“But let’s get something straight,” I continued, stepping in until our noses nearly touched.
“You didn’t see me here today. You didn’t hear shit.
You didn’t speak to me. In fact, you don’t even know me, nigga…
not as Imanio or Gatez. So go ahead and erase both of those names and images from yo’ skull, like you never heard of either.
If I catch you whispering the wrong shit into anybody’s ears…
or even feel your curiosity creeping too close…
your mouth will be the last thing your body sees before it kisses the concrete. You feel me?”
His jaw clenched, then unhinged like it wanted to say something, but couldn’t form the words. His eyes then darted around—possibly looking for witnesses, an escape, maybe even God.
He gave me a quick nod—too fast, too nervous.
“Good,” I said, giving his shoulder a pat… then a firm, pointed grip that lasted just long enough to remind him who he was dealing with. “Now disappear.”
The nigga backed up too fast, stumbling over his own damn foot like his legs forgot how to work. One hand slammed against the wall to steady himself. He didn’t even bother looking back. Just bolted—quick steps, fumbling steps—like the ground beneath him was too hot to stay on.
And I stood there, still as death, watching him scramble like a roach when the lights came on.
Let ‘em wonder who turned the switch.
I stood there a moment longer, watching the street. Then I turned, unlocked the door using Blu’s key that was on him when I killed him, and disappeared inside.
The place still reeked of bleach and Pine-Sol—strong enough to sting my nostrils and stir a faint headache.
Chi and I did a damn good job trying to erase what happened there.
But even the sharpest chemicals couldn’t scrub away energy.
Wanting to be in and out, I didn’t linger.
I moved with purpose, heading up the narrow staircase two steps at a time until I reached Naji’s old room.
The moment I opened the door, something shifted.
It was simple, quiet and still carrying traces of her.
My eyes landed on a teddy bear sitting neatly on the bed. It was a bit worn but clearly loved. I reached for it, fully intending to grab and go. But something made me pause.
Curiosity? Maybe. Or something deeper I didn’t feel like naming.
The truth was, I didn’t want to just protect Naji; I wanted to know her, even the parts that didn’t want to be known.
I took a seat on the bed and then pressed the button. A soft, melodic voice poured out:
Nija,
If you’re listening to this, it means life is doing what it does best—being loud, heavy, and unpredictable. And that’s okay, baby. That’s why I made this for you.
After the recording ended, I sat there for a minute—just still. I stared down at the stuffed bear in my lap, feeling like the message had explained the entire universe in sixty seconds. Like maybe it wasn’t even meant for Naji, but for me too.
It didn’t take long to find her phone—it was sitting right there on the nightstand, screen face-down like it was waiting for me.
Temptation tugged at me. I could’ve gone through it to see who she texted the most, snooped through her pictures, maybe even found something that gave me more of her than she was ready to give, but I didn’t. I wasn’t trying to violate her in that way… not more than I already had.
I slipped it into my pocket and turned to leave, but something else caught my eye—a large black portfolio, tucked halfway under the bed like she’d pushed it there in a hurry.
Curious, I crouched down and pulled it out.
It was a bit worn at the edges, well-used—one of those zip-up styles with a busted seam and a thin layer of dust.
I unzipped it.
Inside were modeling photos. Some professional—soft lighting, high angles, real camera work. Others were more raw, like she'd set them up herself—floor shots, mirror angles, outdoor edits with natural sunlight kissing her skin. And then there were the black-and-white ones.
Minimal makeup. Natural hair. No filter. Just… her.
Naji’s eyes were striking in every shot. Even when she wasn’t smiling, they said more than her lips ever could.
“Damn,” I breathed. “She’s beautiful.”
It slipped out before I could stop it.
I glanced around the room as if someone might’ve heard me, even though I knew I was alone.
Damn, I knew she was gorgeous without being dolled up, but the pictures I saw online and on her wall were nothing compared to the photos staring back at me right then. Seeing Naji in her element was a sight to see.
I closed the portfolio gently, then paused, my hand still resting on top of it.
That wasn’t just a book of photos; it was Naji…
her vision… her confidence and her vulnerability on full display, even if she didn’t realize it.
Leaving something that personal in a vacant house didn’t sit right with me.
Naji might’ve shoved it under the bed like it was nothing, but that was a piece of her that didn’t deserve to be forgotten or left behind.
So I didn’t slide it back; I tucked it under my arm, took one last glance around the room, then I walked out, slower than I came in.
When I got back in my whip, I buckled the bear into the passenger seat beside me like it was riding shotgun and had seniority over everybody else in my life.
The ride from Blu Notes was quiet, aside from the faint echo of the recording playing in my head on loop. By the time I got to Dessign’s house, she was already at the door waiting—probably wheeled herself to the front the moment she saw my car pull up.
“Well, well, well… look who remembered he got a sister,” she started with her usual teasing smirk, reversing her wheelchair to give me room to walk in.
I kissed my teeth. “Hey, to you, too, my beautiful sister. And stop acting like I don’t call you every damn day.”
“Phone calls are the bare minimum, King Petty,” she hissed, pivoting smoothly behind me. “Pulling up in the flesh? That’s sentimental. That says, ‘I miss you.’ Or more like… ‘I’m stressed and need your wisdom, oh, wise and stunning sister.’ Which is it?”
“Quit acting like you know me.”
“I do… better than anybody,” she boasted. “Now come on.”
We moved into her sun-drenched living room.
Dessign wheeled around the corner with all the confidence of a woman who ran her house, disability or not.
I dropped onto the couch with a sigh that was already heavy enough to give it away.
“Okay, let’s hear it,” she said, popping the top off a cold LaCroix and setting it down on her little snack table. “And don’t hit me with that ‘nothing’ mess. You walked in looking like your conscience just filed for bankruptcy.”
I laughed under my breath, rubbing the back of my neck.
“I got a situation… one I didn’t expect… with a woman.”
Her brows flew up. “A woman? Oh shit. You never come to me about women. Normally, you just ghost ‘em for your peace like a polite little psychopath.”
“Come on, Dess…”
“No, no, no. Let me process this. You—Imanio Kors, king of non-commitment—is tangled up over a woman? Is she a witch? She got voodoo on you?”
“It ain’t even like that.”
“Oh, wait—” She leaned in, eyes dramatic. “Please don’t tell me you got some random girl pregnant.”
“Hell nah!” I barked, shaking my head. “You know me better than that.”
“I do, but I had to ask. You know how these baby mamas can get, especially with you having money and all. I can’t defend you too much, but I got limited upper-body strength.
If a girl pops up talkin’ ‘bout child support and drama, I ain’t chasing her down in this chair—but I will roll over her foot. ”
That made me chuckle.
“I know, sis, but nah, it’s deeper than that. Like... some real shit.”
Dessign leaned in like she already knew this was gonna be good.
“Go on.”
“I had to grab a girl… a witness.”
Her eyes widened in confusion. “Grab a—wait! What the hell you mean grab ?!”
“She saw something; something she wasn’t supposed to.”
“Oh, my God! Please tell me you didn’t hurt an innocent person! Look at me defending somebody I don’t even know!”
I tried not to laugh, but her face was dead serious—and that made it funnier.
“Listen, I didn’t hurt her and I don’t have no intentions on doing so.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I just… took her to my crib until I can figure out what to do about this situation… her.”
“So you kidnapped her?”
“Technically,” I admitted dryly. “But it’s not like that.”
She eyed me hard. “Is she really safe?”
“Yeah, Dess. I don’t have her locked up or chained if that’s what you’re curious about.”
“She’s scared, I take it, though?”
“Yeah, she is… at least she was when I first took her. I think she’s calmed down now… a little.”
“What changed?”
“I got her Friday night. Before today, she wouldn’t eat, barely slept, hell, she wouldn’t even get in the shower.”
Dessign let out a long breath, almost as if she were sympathizing with Naji.
“Damn, Imanio. That girl wasn’t scared; she was probably traumatized.”
“Yeah, I’m starting to believe that. But after we had breakfast today, she opened up… a little. Still a lil’ scared, though.”
“I’m sure. You are intimidating… to people who don’t really know you. You could’ve brought her here at least—maybe she would’ve felt more comfortable around me instead of your grumpy ass. Besides, I could use the company.”
“ Grumpy? ”
“Yes, grumpy . Imanio, you wake up grumpy. You blink grumpy. You probably even text grumpy.”
“Hush. But you really think I’m grumpy?”
“To me? No. I’m immune and built different. But to anybody else? Hell yeah. You’re terrifying with eyebrows. I wouldn’t feel safe either.”
That actually made me think—maybe I needed to be a little softer with Naji. I didn’t give a damn how the rest of the world saw me, but with her, she was different—especially considering her condition.
“But I doubt if she would’ve felt any safer here with you than with me. She has Tourette’s.”
Dessign’s mouth fell agape.