Chapter 20 Mekhi
I woke up with Farrah in my arms, in my bed.
That shit threw me for a loop. I had woken up with women next to me, but very few.
And I had never woken with one in my bed.
In my line of business, you didn’t casually let people know where you laid your head.
Farrah had me all off my square. I started to wake her up, but one glance at her peaceful-looking self had me reconsidering.
Her face was relaxed in sleep, and she looked so sweet, not like the woman who always had her nose turned up at me.
Of course, she would swear she didn’t. But her little cold attitude and her snappy words said a lot.
So did her reaction when you had your mouth and hands on her, I remembered.
I couldn’t deny the shit; Farrah had melted for me.
And if that had been her reaction to foreplay, I couldn’t help wondering what she’d act like with my dick inside her.
That was some shit I was determined not to find out, though.
Farrah and I were usually barely on speaking terms, and I had to remind myself of that.
Last night was a one-time thing, my reaction to waking up to a beautiful, soft woman spread all over me. It wouldn’t happen again.
One of my phones vibrated on the nightstand and I grabbed it quickly, careful not to disturb her. Seth’s number flashed on the screen, and I answered it.
“What?”
“Nigga, do you always wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” he asked.
I didn’t say anything, waiting on him to tell me what he was calling for.
“Anyway, sunshine, get up. I got news.”
“Hold on,” I said.
“Nah, this not a phone conversation. We need to go to the spot.”
“One hour?”
“Sounds good,” he said before hanging up.
I lay there for a minute, knowing I needed to get up, but enjoying her warm body next to mine.
My dick was rock hard where it rested against the soft curve of her ass, and I was about to forget the plans I’d just made with Seth when she started to stretch.
Slowly, her pretty, honey brown eyes opened, and she froze when they landed on me.
I smirked down at her, and she bounced back from her shock, rolling her eyes and letting out a big yawn.
“That breath is deadly, shorty,” I teased her.
“Fuck you, Mekhi,” she murmured, her voice husky with sleep.
“No more nightmares?”
She shook her head. “Nah.”
“Good. You can go back to the other room now.”
The warmth in her brown eyes immediately disappeared, and she stared at me icily.
“I swear you have no home training,” she snapped, rolling out of bed and yanking on the hem of her sleep shirt.
But not before I got another look at that juicy pussy. I almost pulled her thick ass back in the bed. Business first, I reminded myself. I expected her to storm out the door, but she surprised me by walking around the bed.
“What you doing?” I asked.
I watched as her skin reddened and she ignored me. That shit was unacceptable.
“Farrah—”
“I’m looking for my panties, okay?” she said sharply.
I smirked at her. “As soon as I find them, I’ll return them. You can go.”
“Mekhi—”
“Bye, Farrah.”
She huffed and stomped out the door. For a minute, I almost felt bad, but I didn’t need her getting the wrong idea. Farrah already barely listened to me. If she thought I had a soft spot for her—which I didn’t, I reassured myself—I wouldn’t be able to tell her a damned thing.
I showered and dressed quickly, ready to hear what Seth had to say.
Jarell was already stationed outside, ready to watch over Farrah since she didn’t have her internship today.
Fifty minutes after Seth’s call, I was pulling up to the old factory.
He met me at the front door, his usual smile in place, but a little bit dimmer.
“I thought you were going to miss out on all the fun,” he said as I followed him into the dusty building. “Farrah got you busy?”
I frowned. “Why you say that?”
“Fucking with you, but I see you didn’t deny it.”
For a minute, I thought about how busy she had had me, and what we might be doing this morning if he hadn’t called. But, nah. I wasn’t going there with Farrah.
“What’s up, Seth?” I asked, not even being subtle about changing the subject.
Catching the hint, he immediately went all business.
“Little nigga named City bragged to the wrong person about knowing who was in that Impala. Luca heard it and he and Cardo snatched the nigga up. At first, he said he was just talking. They got in that nigga’s ass, and he finally admitted that his cousin was one of the shooters.”
I frowned. “Who is his cousin?”
“That’s the fucked-up part. Jarmon Hill. That nigga works for—”
“Ramón Black. The fuck is up with that? We ain’t got no problems with that nigga.”
Black washed money and made under-the-table loans from his spot on the Westside. I’d had business with him before when I needed to clean cash, but that was as far as it went. Or, at least, that was what I thought.
“Shit. We do now,” Seth said.
“They get Jarmon?”
This time, his smile was as big as usual. “Why you think I had you come here?”
Luca, Cardo, and Will were holding Jarmon in the back of the building.
Strapped down to a chair in the middle of the floor, his eyes swollen and his mouth and nose leaking, he looked like he had seen better days.
Still, the nigga was conscious, and he started babbling the minute Seth and I walked in.
I didn’t have time for all the damned lies and denials.
I nodded once at Luca who took off his belt and looped it around Jarmon’s neck before pulling quickly.
I watched as the nigga’s eyes bucked and his tongue protruded before nodding at Luca again. He let go and Jarmon gasped for air.
“So, Black got a problem with us?” I asked, my voice calm.
Jarmon shook his head quickly. “N-n-nah. Why you say that?”
“I mean, niggas that work for him tryna kill me. Something must be up.”
He looked up at me, doing his best to appear innocent. “Who… who tryna kill you?”
I glanced at Luca. He tightened the belt again. Jarmon strained, desperate for air. This time, Luca held it a little longer before relenting. Seth and I stood there as Jarmon struggled to catch his breath. Finally, I spoke again.
“You tryna be funny? You don’t know about the drive by?”
“I—” he erupted into a fit of coughing before he answered. “Yeah, I know about that. Everybody know about that. That don’t mean Black had something to do with it.”
I nodded. “You right. Maybe it doesn’t trace back to Black. Maybe the shit stops with you.”
He tried to straighten up in the chair. “Wait, wait, wait. I ain’t got nothing to do with—”
“I guess yo’ cousin just lying on you for no reason, huh?” I cut him off, my patience wearing thin.
Caught off guard, Jarmon swallowed. I debated giving him a minute to get his lie together, just to see what he would say.
But fuck that. I didn’t have time for all this.
I walked closer to him and squatted in front of his chair.
His eyes locked with mine, his nostrils flaring from how hard he was breathing. I gave him a cold little smile.
“I’on wanna hear no more lies, Jarmon. You understand?”
“Y-y-yeah.”
“And you know you only as good as the information you give me. You give me something good enough, I might think about sparing yo’ worthless life. So, I suggest you stop lying and start talking.”
“But—”
I held up a hand. “If I don’t believe the next word that comes out of yo’ mouth, I’ma let Luca pull the belt again. And he won’t stop until you not breathing. Make sure you understand that.”
For a minute, the dingy ass room was quiet. Finally, Jarmon coughed and started talking.
“This really wasn’t a job for Black. Not directly. He owed some nigga a favor…”
“What nigga?” I interrupted.
“I-I don’t know.”
I looked at Luca. A grim smile lifted his mouth as he pulled the belt tighter.
“W-wait! I really don’t know. All I know is that he called the nigga Trell!”