25. Fontaine Jackson
Drea had been able to come home after a week in the hospital.
Our mother basically moved in with her and Gunnar to help out while she recovered.
I offered to hire a nurse and a nanny, but Mama shut it down immediately—told me nobody could take care of her baby like she could.
So I gave them one of my credit cards for whatever they needed and chipped in when I could.
I didn’t think Drea was a target, but I wasn’t willing to take any chances.
I had extra eyes around her place anyway.
Everybody tightened up. Cash and Jelani made sure they did the same with Jasmine and Monica.
Nairobi could handle herself, but I still found myself checking the tracker I reinstalled on her phone.
After Slim, it felt like my nerves didn’t want to unclench.
Jelani asked me to come with him to New York to meet with CJ.
I wasn’t too thrilled to see or talk to this nigga again, but what choice did I have?
Holding that old shit over Nairobi’s head was childish, and our business with the Reapers wasn’t going anywhere.
It was time to suck it up and get over myself.
We headed straight to Brooklyn once we touched down. The Reapers’ clubhouse was a spot called Black Mamba Social in Flatbush. A plain black awning hung out front, nothing flashy, except for the motorcycles and slingshots lined up along the curb.
A few Reapers were outside smoking, eyeing us because we weren’t in leathers and we weren’t familiar faces.
It was a mild winter day, so I kept it simple—black Amiri sweatsuit, and a pair of Timbs.
Inside was dimly lit with a long wooden bar, two pool tables were further back, and booths and tables spread out.
A neon motorcycle sign glowed over the bottles.
I felt the shift in the room as we approached. CJ was leaning against the bar, drink in hand, donning his Reapers vest over a gray hoodie. Two men seemed to materialize from the shadows to flank him.
“‘Sup, Lani,” he said, stepping forward.
Jelani clasped his hand and pulled him into a hug. Then CJ’s attention moved to me.
“Fontaine.”
I gave him a nod. Cordial. I was on my best behavior today.
He motioned for us to follow him. We moved down a narrow hallway while the other two men fell in behind us without a word.
CJ’s office was minimalist—plain compared to Cash’s. A security monitor was on the wall, and a small safe was installed behind the desk. One of his guys posted outside while the other came in, settling into a corner where he could see all of us.
“I’m sorry to hear about Slim,” CJ said, leaning against the edge of the desk. “He was a good dude.”
Neither of us responded as we took the chairs across from him.
“You know Messiah was behind this,” Jelani said, getting right to it. “I’m sure you heard about his wife.”
CJ’s lips pressed into a tight line. “Messiah’s been off the chain for a minute. It’s starting to become bad for business.”
“So you understand the problem,” Jelani said.
“I understand. I’m just waiting to hear what you want.”
“A formal alliance.”
CJ’s eyes narrowed. “I thought helping y’all two years ago proved we already had one. Plus we do business.”
Jelani shook his head. “More than that. We’re offering the Gotham Reapers a seat on the Council.”
“And Cash is good with that?”
“Cash doesn’t run the crew anymore,” Jelani said. “I do. He respects my decision.”
“Hm.” CJ’s gaze settled on me. “And you?”
I shrugged. “I’m here for whatever is good for the crew.”
CJ’s mouth twitched. “That’s not a yes.”
“It’s not a no either. We don’t need to be friends. But I respect you, and I respect the Reapers. That’s enough to move forward.”
That seemed to be good enough. CJ looked back at Jelani. “So why offer me a seat?”
“Because, if we’re going to take down Messiah, we need numbers in New York,” Jelani said. “Y’all matter up here.”
CJ gave a quick, humorless smile. “You think I’m about to help you out again and give you access to my network because you asked nicely?”
“You and I both know what being on the Council could do for your business,” Jelani replied.
“I’m open to it,” CJ said. “But I’m not signing up to be y’all’s fucking lackeys.”
I felt my patience thinning. “We’re not you asking to be. Messiah killed his wife in front of us. Blew up our safe house. That nigga don’t care who gets caught in the crossfire. That kind of chaos can only stay contained for so long.”
CJ stared at me for a long beat. I couldn’t tell if he was weighing my warning or calculating how much he could get out of us.
“We’re trying to end a problem that’s starting to bleed into everybody’s business,” Jelani continued. “When Messiah’s gone, the whole landscape shifts. Think about the bigger picture.”
CJ rubbed his beard. “A seat on the Council is big. If I say yes, I’m tied to Atlanta the same way y’all want to be tied to New York.”
“Shared stakes,” Jelani said.
CJ nodded. “Alright. I’m down.”
Out the corner of my eye, Jelani’s shoulders relaxed a little.
“But,” CJ added, holding up a finger, “when y’all up here, you go through me. You want eyes, you get my eyes. You need to move, you tell me first.”
“Bet,” Jelani said. “That’s fair.”
“One more thing,” CJ’s expression didn’t change. “I want something else.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes.
Jelani raised a brow. “Name it.”
“The Reapers get first dibs on whatever opens up when Messiah dies.”
“Done.”
CJ offered Jelani his hand first, and they shook on it. Then he looked at me, hand still out.
Nairobi’s face flashed through my mind—their history, old tension. But at the end of the day, business came first.
I clasped his hand. “We good,” I said.
“We good,” CJ echoed.
Date night was non-negotiable.
It was easy to get caught up in the minutiae of our world, especially because the lines had been crossed, but one night a week, we put all of it away.
Nairobi had spent too much of her life in fight mode and not enough of it being taken care of, so I was making it a point to woo her properly.
Once a week, we did something. No work talk. No crew business. Just us.
Tonight was some spot she’d found on social media.
It had weird little art on the walls, cocktails with gimmicky-ass names, and string lights everywhere like they were trying to set the mood.
I wouldn’t have picked it, but she’d shown me the menu two days ago with this quiet kind of excitement she probably didn’t realize she was showing. That was enough for me.
She’d worn a short black slip dress, with gold heels that made her legs look endless. Her short hair was back to its silvery blonde that made her deep brown skin pop. She looked so damn beautiful I almost canceled our reservation.
The hostess sat us in a corner booth, which I appreciated. I liked having a wall at my back and a clear line to the door.
“You’re not even going to read that for real,” I said as she reached for the drink menu.
She glanced up. “Excuse me?”
“The cocktail menu. I know you’ve already looked at the menu a thousand times before we got here and you finna pick the drink with the most ridiculous name.”
She rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. “And what about it?”
I shook my head and chuckled.
She ended up ordering something called a Midnight Twizzle.
I got a bourbon neat, because all those sugary drinks made my stomach hurt.
When our drinks came, she slid hers across the table.
I took a sip and raised an eyebrow. It was good—I tasted smoky mezcal and something fruity that wasn’t sickeningly sweet.
Dinner settled into an easy rhythm. She told me that she and Hana had been talking more frequently about things that didn’t have to do with the Order.
“So y’all besties now?” I asked.
“Hardly.” She rolled her eyes. “Both of us grew up as only children, so I guess we’re trying to figure this sister shit out.”
I was halfway through my burger when she asked.
“What do you think about meeting my mother?”
I paused mid-bite and looked at her. She chewed on her bottom lip while she waited on my answer.
I set my burger down. In all the time I’d known Nairobi, she’d only ever called her parents by their first names. The few times “mother” or “father” came out her mouth, it usually came with a look that said she’d rather swallow glass.
“You want me to meet Kenya?” I asked.
Nairobi scrunched up her face and took a sip of her drink. “You know what? Never mind. Too soon.”
“Stop,” I said, reaching across the table before she could disappear into her head. “It’s not stupid, I’m just surprised.”
Her expression softened some, but she kept poking at her pasta. “I’m trying to let her in,” she said. “She’s trying too. And she already met Jasmine and the baby while you were in New York.”
My eyes widened. “Cash actually let them out the house?”
Nairobi’s mouth curved into a smile. “Only ‘cause they were with me.”
“It went fine, though,” she continued. “Less awkward than I thought it would be, minus Aspen looking at me like she was judging me.”
I laughed. “Not the baby side-eyeing you.”
“Maybe she thinks I have bad vibes.”
I shook my head. “So your mom met one friend and now you’re ready for her to meet me?”
Nairobi’s brown cheeks flushed just a bit. “I’m not,” she admitted. “But I remind myself I’ve done harder things.”
My chest warmed a bit. “Alright,” I said, rapping my knuckles on the table. “Whenever you’re ready.”
She nodded.