27. Fontaine Jackson
Three weeks had passed since Slim’s memorial service.
It was small, but the impact he’d had on the people who loved him filled every corner of that church.
His cousins sat with his grandmother, who kept her head high throughout.
She didn’t shed a tear—and in a sad way it felt like she’d always known she’d outlive him.
Like she’d been bracing for it for years and had made her peace somewhere along the way.
Drea sat up front with me and the rest of the crew.
She kept tugging at the sleeves of her long black dress—her mottled, scarred skin peeked out, still healing and itching her constantly.
She cried silently, keeping her eyes hidden behind oversized sunglasses as though she was trying to take up as little space as possible.
But she nearly broke when Slim’s grandmother pressed a small urn into her hands—a portion of his ashes for her.
We’d told her about the pregnancy beforehand.
She’d come by the house shortly after Drea was released to meet Drea properly.
Mama and I had left them to talk in the living room alone, and whatever passed between them seemed to have helped her.
Drea only told me that his grandmother wanted to be part of the baby’s life and I’m sure that meant everything to her, knowing there would always be a piece of his family still present.
But life didn’t stop moving just because we were grieving.
The Council meeting had just wrapped up.
It was the first one since giving the Reapers a seat.
CJ had come down for it and I didn’t feel like putting a bullet in his head when he walked into the boardroom, so I considered that progress.
The Reapers fit in well. I was proud of Jelani for taking the reins and putting both crews in a position to make more bread.
The rest of the Council members were eager to get weapons from them, and after some preliminary talks, everyone had cleared out—leaving the four of us behind.
It still felt strange that Slim wasn’t part of this. His absence felt like a phantom limb.
Jelani poured us all a fresh round of drinks and sat back down. Cash was next to me, CJ across from us rolling his glass between his palms.
“I think we have what we need to get started,” Jelani said and took a sip of the Macellen.
Cash’s jaw tightened. CJ scoffed and threw back his drink.
“What are we doing?” I asked.
“We need to make his life difficult in ways he can’t trace,” Jelani said. “He washes his money through his businesses up and down the east coast. Real big into construction and real estate. We already know where some of these are.” He glanced at Cash.
Cash nodded slowly. “There are two buildings in New York he’s had his eye on.
One he wants to turn into a laundromat, the other some kind of cafe situation.
” He leaned back in his chair. “We’re gonna buy them first, under market value, in cash.
Then turn around and sell it to somebody else for twice as much.
He loses out and he’ll be pissed that somebody got there before him. ”
“And it won’t look like y’all?” CJ asked.
“We have shell companies set up for shit like this,” Cash said. “Far as he’s concerned, some random got the one up on him.”
“Messiah’s shipments come through three ports I’ve been watching for a while. Things start coming up short or go missing.” CJ said, tilting his head. “He’s gonna get paranoid. Nigga’s gonna start thinking it’s rivals or somebody in his organization skimming.”
“He’s gonna start putting people down,” I said.
“That’s the point,” CJ replied, looking at me pointedly. “Let him get suspicious of the people around him. Won’t take long before he gets sloppy and starts burning bridges.”
“Hate that shit has to take so long,” Cash grumbled.
“I know,” Jelani said. “But if we move too fast, Messiah will bring a war to our front door. Everyone in this room has much to lose.”
Cash was quiet for a long moment before reaching for his glass. “Aight.”
We toasted and drank on it.
Messiah Lawson had an expiration date. He just didn’t know it yet.
Nai was still up when I got back.
She was on the couch with her legs tucked under her as she watched some trashy reality TV show.
She looked up at me. “How’d it go?”
“We’re about to get the ball rolling.” I kicked off my shoes and dropped onto the couch beside her.
I leaned my head back and stared at the ceiling.
As much as I missed my friend, I wanted to shoot him for getting us in this bullshit.
“We know what we gotta do. Everybody just has to play their part.”
She moved closer and curled into me. I let the scent of her body butter ground me like it always did.
We sat like that for a few minutes, the Housewives yelling at each other on the TV.
“Hana gave me my first assignment,” she said.
I looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. “When?”
“I leave in three weeks.”
Three weeks. The last time Nairobi left, she’d disappeared and refused to come back even after I’d tracked her down.
I knew this was different. She’d changed.
Both of us had changed. She was showing me every day that she wanted us to work.
But I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a little bit of doubt—fear—that she’d get out there and disappear on me again.
“How long will you be gone?” I asked.
“Two weeks minimum. Depends on how the job goes.”
“Okay.”
She shifted and looked at me. “There’s something else.”
“I don’t know the full picture yet, but this is a diplomat who coincidentally grew up in the same neighborhood with Messiah Lawson.
I think they’re connected. Hana’s been vague, but I know she’s planning on giving me a workup of all of Messiah’s political allies.
This one looks like he was getting ready to help him set up some overseas dealings that might directly interfere with the Order’s business. ”
“Your sister trying to help you out?”
Nairobi sucked her teeth. “Our interests align for the moment, so this is a freebie. Kill two birds with one stone.”
“Okay.”
“That’s all you got? ‘Okay’?”
“You’re not asking my permission, Kitten,” I said, stroking her cheek with my thumb. “I been told you, I respect the work you do. This comes with the territory. Just make sure you bring your ass back to me.”
I put my arm across the back of the couch and turned toward the TV.
“I’ve always been able to walk into any of these jobs because I had nothing to walk away from.” She crawled into my lap and straddled me. “That's not true anymore.”
She kissed me softly. “I’m coming back this time, Bear.”
“I know.” I pressed my lips to the top of her head.
“I love you,” she said.
“I know.”
She pinched me in the side. “Fontaine.”
I laughed, a deep bellied one. “I love you too, Nairobi.” I tilted her face up toward mine. “All of you. The difficult parts included.”
“That’s most of me,” she said, resting her head on my chest and I kept my arms around her.
We had three weeks.
I was going to make them count.