Chapter 9
Buzz.
Buzz.
With her eyes still closed, Nahla grabbed a pillow and put it over her head.
Buzz.
She groaned and reached toward the nightstand. Her phone had been buzzing with messages for the last thirty seconds, but Nahla wasn’t ready to start her day. She felt the effects of the wine she had drunk before she opened her eyes.
The constant yet faint throbbing in her left temple would make one think that she had taken several shots the night before, but she’d only had three glasses of wine.
Of course, she wasn’t much of a drinker in the first place.
She had been feeling tipsy after the first glass, and she should have stopped there.
Buzz.
Nahla unlocked her phone and tapped the first message she saw.
Luke (managing editor):
Have you seen this? I thought Mr. Hill said you were letting go of the Lyle story?
Attached to her coworker’s message was a link to the Lyle sheriff’s press conference. Nahla sighed and continued checking her text messages.
Brother:
Dad sent me this this morning. Nahla, why is a Sheriff in Lyle holding press conferences about you? Call me.
Sissy:
Girl, what the hell is this press conference? Call me ASAP.
Capri:
Don’t let that video upset your day. We’re going to figure this out, and your story is going to right a lot of wrongs. You got this, and you’re not alone. <3
Dream:
Whose ass in Lyle do I need to beat? Call me when you can, friend.
Dad:
When will you learn to stop provoking the people who keep these communities safe? Pastor Jefferies sent me this video, and I couldn’t even respond.
Her father’s message made her pause as the thumping in her ears began. She hated the blind trust he put in law enforcement. She didn’t want to call her own father a sellout, but when he said things like this, it got challenging to describe him in any other way.
What was bothering her most, though, was the evident disappointment and disgust dripping from his words. Joseph Avery II had a way of reaching her that no one else could.
Mr. Hill:
Checking on you. Call me as soon as you can.
Nahla tossed her phone on the bed and closed her eyes. She took several deep breaths before opening them again. She hadn’t even opened her eyes good, and her day was already starting terribly.
She got out of bed and went to the restroom.
As she brushed her teeth, she noticed that her hand was trembling.
She placed her free hand over her chest, and her heart was thumping against it.
Frustrated with herself, she rolled her eyes.
She wanted to put her father and the sheriff out of her mind and go about the rest of her day, but it was proving to be a difficult task.
Once she finished brushing her teeth, she went straight to the shower, hoping the water and steam would soothe her. As she washed, she tried to recenter by taking more deep breaths.
It wasn’t working.
She felt tears run down her cheeks and made no moves to wipe them away.
She hated showing weakness, especially when it came to her father.
He had been the same way all her life, but it never stopped her from hoping their relationship could be different one day.
She just wanted a parent who appreciated and loved the person she was, but what she had was a father who wanted nothing more than to change everything about her.
Moments like this made her miss Atlanta. At least she had distance from the cause of her broken heart. It was easier to pretend everything was good when thousands of miles separated her from this reality.
Ugh. I hate this so much, she thought.
It wasn’t just her father’s words or the lying sheriff that was overwhelming her. It was the fact that she was only sure that three of the people who texted her phone this morning actually cared about how she was doing, and one of them she had only met a couple of days ago.
It was wild how much closer she felt to people who weren’t her flesh and blood than she did to those who were.
Mr. Hill and Dream had her back. Time and loyalty had proven that.
And Capri was just as solid. They didn’t have time in their corner, but Nahla could just tell—the Porter siblings were keepers.
Speaking of the Porters . . .
Although she had all these messages to respond to, the only person she cared to speak to at this moment was Cannon. The day before had been a whirlwind. When she woke up yesterday morning, she did not expect the night to end the way it did. She had no regrets, though.
Nahla had been inebriated last night, but she meant everything she said to Cannon. She was feeling him more than a little bit; she could only hope that he meant what he said too.
Once she was moisturized and dressed, she glanced at her phone again.
Hesitantly, she grabbed it, knowing she couldn’t avoid the messages for long.
With another deep sigh, she left her room.
Her first stop was the kitchen, and the sight before her distracted her from her depressing thoughts for a moment.
Cannon was standing in front of the stove, shirtless.
The gray band of his boxers was barely visible over the cream-colored sweatpants he wore, and a fresh pair of white socks graced his feet. The view was immaculate.
“Good morning,” she said, stepping further into the kitchen.
Cannon turned around and flashed her one of his rare smiles. That one gesture settled something in her.
As he examined Nahla’s face, his smile dropped, and a frown replaced it. Cannon placed the spatula he was holding on the counter and approached her. Wrapping his arms around her, Cannon asked, “What’s wrong?”
Now, Nahla was frowning. There was plenty wrong, but his smile had low-key fixed it. He had her smiling, too, so how in the world did he pick up on the fact that something was bothering her?
“Your eyes are red. Your lips are puffy.”
Nahla rolled her eyes. Her eyes were dramatic. They would get red at even the slightest hint of tears. She should have looked in the mirror after her shower.
“I’m sure it looks worse than it actually is. I just let out a few tears in the shower.”
Still holding on to her, he asked, “Why?”
Nahla sighed and shimmied out of his embrace so that she could access her phone.
She went to her messages and then handed Cannon the phone.
She watched him as he went through the messages.
His finger stopped moving across the screen, but he was still staring at it.
His frown deepened, so she figured he stopped on her father’s message. She’d had the same reaction.
He confirmed that when he said, “Your pops’ message is what had you cryin’?”
Nahla shrugged. “Probably. I’ve been dealing with his disappointment all my life, so you’d think I’d be used to texts like that by now.”’ Her voice cracked when she said it, and Cannon shook his head.
“That nigga is your father, La. You shouldn’t have to get used to him talkin’ to you like that,” he said, pulling her back in his arms. Nahla hugged him back. She inhaled deeply then frowned. The smell of his cologne and burning food greeted her nostrils.
“You didn’t turn off the eye?” she asked, rushing to the stove. Sure enough, charred eggs and black butter were popping around in the skillet. Nahla laughed as she turned the stovetop off and removed the pan.
“Damn. You made me breakfast yesterday, and I was tryna return the favor. My non-cookin’ ass shoulda just called my sister.”
That made Nahla laugh louder as she scraped the burnt eggs into the trash can.
“It’s okay, I promise,” she said, trying to stifle her laughter. “I really don’t eat breakfast most days. Coffee usually does it for me. I can make you something, though.”
Nahla had taken the skillet to the sink and began washing it when Cannon approached her from behind. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he kissed her neck.
“Nah, I can get something when we head out. Go ’head and make your coffee.”
Nahla lifted her brows in surprise.
“We’re going somewhere?” For the first time since he’d brought her here, she wasn’t itching to go anywhere. She was usually a busybody but had been a little excited about the prospect of lounging around the house all day with Cannon.
“Yeah, you had a fucked-up day yesterday, and your morning hasn’t been much better. I’ma take you somewhere that will get your mind off all that.”
Nahla turned around. Placing her hands on his chest, she asked, “Does it involve coffee from Noir?
“It might. Come on.”
“Where are we?” Nahla asked.
“Anchor. It’s a gun range.”
Nahla chuckled. “This is going to get my mind off things?”
“It might. Or it may just give you space to vent. You down?”
She nodded, and Cannon got out of the car.
The truth was, he wanted her to know how to shoot.
He didn’t see the Lyle situation turning deadly, but because of her career choice, this probably wouldn’t be the last time someone came after her.
He wanted to know that she could defend herself if she were ever without him.
He led her inside and signed them in. Anchor was owned by one of his father’s old friends, so whenever he needed to release, this was where he came. Cannon retrieved her protective gear and helped her get it on before leading her to their lane.
He handed her a nine millimeter, then said, “Open your legs a lil wider.”
She did as she was told, then he stepped closer—right behind her. His chest brushed her back, and he slid his hands down her arms, adjusting her grip around the gun. With his mouth an inch away from her ear, he said, “Relax your shoulders.”
He chuckled as he watched her attempt to relax. Really, she just kind of shrugged her shoulders. “You’re tense as hell, La. You gotta loosen up.”
She kissed her teeth. “This is my first time holding a gun. I don’t know how to loosen up.”
“Breathe in,” he said. She obliged, and as she did, he kissed her neck. That contact caused her to exhale unintentionally, but her shoulders were notably more relaxed.