Chapter 44
It was a little after nine p.m. Khayla had just left for the evening, and Mekhi still wasn’t back.
I was stretched out on the couch, my textbooks splayed open on the coffee table even though my eyes weren’t focused on a single sentence.
The house felt too quiet without Mekhi. I kept telling myself he was fine, but my stomach had been in a knot since he walked out the door.
I didn’t realize how tightly I’d been holding my breath until Steel cleared his throat.
“Uh… Farrah?” he called from the foyer. “You got a visitor.”
I sat up, frowning. My parents and my cousin Ajani knew where I was, but they would’ve called first. “Who?”
Before he could answer, I heard heels tapping across the marble.
“Mekhi’s mother,” Gillian called lightly, like she was strolling in for a tea party. “Hello, sweetheart.”
“Sweetheart?” I mumbled.
She must be drunk.
She stepped into view looking polished as always—bun sleek, outfit flawless, makeup immaculate.
She smelled like something soft and floral.
That was a contrast to the venom she usually spat out.
She looked sweet; I didn’t believe that shit for a minute.
Steel wasn’t falling for it, either. He was quiet but tense beside me.
I rose slowly. “Gillian… is everything okay?”
Her smile slipped just enough to worry me. Then she let out a soft, anguished breath.
“It’s Mekhi,” she whispered. “Something’s happened.”
My heart dropped into my shoes. “What?” I rushed toward her. “What do you mean? Where is he?”
“He’s… he’s at the hospital,” she said, voice quivering, messing with my nerves. “He didn’t want you panicking, so he didn’t call. I just came to get you. I know we don’t see eye to eye, but I have to put that aside now. My baby comes first.”
I felt my legs wobble. “Hospital? Is he hurt? Oh, my God—”
“He’s fine,” she soothed quickly, reaching for my hands. “It isn’t… life-threatening. But he wants you. He kept asking for you. I told him I’d come get you myself.”
Steel stepped between us immediately.
“We ain’t heard about any medical emergency. I’ll call—”
“It won’t do any good.” Gillian shook her head sharply. “They took his phone. They’re running tests, and they were moving too fast to keep us updated. It’s urgent.”
“Respectfully, Ms. Gillian—” Steel began.
“Respectfully?” she snapped, eyes flashing with anger.
“My son is lying in a hospital bed, and you want to argue. Look, I didn’t have to come over here.
This girl has no real status in his life.
Now, for Mekhi’s sake, I’m putting my feelings aside and trying.
But I can walk right back out of here and be with my son myself. ”
I stared at her, fear growing inside me. I had known all evening something felt off. Mekhi couldn’t be... I stopped myself from thinking it, turned to Steel. “Steel… please. If he’s hurt—”
My phone chimed suddenly. I moved quickly, hoping it was Mekhi. Instead, it was a text from Kera.
Bestie, don’t freak out. Seth and Mekhi had an accident. I—
There was more, but my vision blurred and the phone slipped from my hands. Gillian was telling the truth. I had to get there.
“Steel, I need to go,” I whispered.
“And fast. I don’t have time for this,” Gillian snapped.
Steel stared at her for a long moment, hard. Really hard. I don’t know what he saw in her face, but finally, he let out a slow breath.
“All right,” he said reluctantly. “But I’ll follow you in a separate car.”
Gillian placed a manicured hand on his arm. “There’s limited visitor parking and strict check-in rules for after-hours visits. They’re making exceptions for family only. If we take too long, they won’t let us in. Follow us, but park where they say. Don’t cause trouble.”
Steel turned to me. “Farrah—”
My brain was spiraling. I needed to see Mekhi. I needed to know he wasn’t dying in some emergency room. I knew what Gillian said, but I had to see it for myself.
“She’s his mother,” I told him. “I need her to get in. Just do what she says.”
I guess I looked as dazed as I felt. Gillian took my arm, and to my surprise, her touch steadied me. “Let’s go, sweetheart. He’s waiting on us.”
Steel looked at me. There was something in his eyes, something doubtful, uneasy. I understood, but we needed Gillian in this moment. Mekhi was hurt. Everything else was irrelevant. I ran upstairs, grabbed my stuff, and followed Gillian out the door.
I climbed in her car, hands shaking, breath shallow, and buckled myself in quickly.
Gillian gave me a reassuring smile. “We’ll be there soon. Just breathe.”
She was right; the ride to the medical center didn’t take long. I was reaching for the door handle when I noticed the scent. It was something sharp, chemical, suffocating. I turned my head toward her in confusion.
“What is—?”
A hand from the back seat reached around me. Before I could scream, a cloth smothered my nose and mouth. I didn’t mean to inhale, but I did. And oh, my God, it hurt! Fire exploded in my skull. The world went dark at the edges.
I clawed at the masculine wrist, but my strength was already slipping. I felt weak, so weak. Gillian’s face hovered above mine, calm and cold. The bitch was smiling.
“You’re going to sleep, sweetheart,” she spat the endearment this time. “Trell just needs you for a little while.”
My brain was screaming, “No,” but my voice wouldn’t work. Surely, she wouldn’t—
Gillian stroked my hair as the darkness crawled in. “Shh,” she said softly. “It’ll all be over soon.”
The last thing I heard was a door slamming, footsteps, and Steel shouting my name from a distance that felt miles away.
Then everything folded in on itself.
When I came to, the air felt damp. I could smell the mildew.
Something cold pressed against my cheek.
My arms were numb and tingling. They felt cramped, and my legs were so heavy.
I blinked, my blurry vision slowly focusing.
I saw the concrete walls and a dim, flickering light overhead.
A glance down showed the zip ties cutting into my wrists.
But the scariest thing was the figure leaning against the door, arms crossed, watching me come back to consciousness with a half-smile.
Trell.
His birthmark caught the light first, that dark splash of skin curling over his eyelid and cheek. His eyes were too calm, too pleased.
“Took you long enough,” he teased softly. “Your boyfriend’s been looking real hard for me. Thought I’d make it easier.”
My breath hitched. Oh, my God. She had done it. She had really done it. Gillian had delivered me to him. She had lied about her own son being in a hospital bed and handed me over like nothing. Like I was nothing. Suddenly, fury outweighed my fear.
Trell’s smile widened.
“Smile now, mothafucka. Mekhi is going to kill you. I hope it’s slow,” I taunted.
His smile dimmed. Good. It should. He needed to be worried. I had no doubt that Mekhi would come for me. I just prayed he didn’t lose himself trying to save me.
“You watch your mouth, pretty girl, or I’ll make you watch him die. And I’ll make sure it’s slow,” he shot back.
My heart pounded, fear threatening to overwhelm me at that thought. Get it together, Farrah! I couldn’t help Mekhi or myself if I was a wailing mess. And then it occurred to me.
I was training for shit like this. I needed to use what I was learning to buy myself time, to calm Trell, if I could. I took a deep breath, ran through the steps of what I needed to do in a situation like this. I’d learned a lot in Dr. Williams’s analysis class.
Assess danger.
Identify motive.
Stall.
Control your affect.
Never escalate before you understand your captor’s threshold.
I straightened my spine, ignoring the pain. “So,” I said, keeping my voice steadier than my heartbeat, “this is your idea of a first date? You gotta do better.”
His grin widened. “You funny. Does Mekhi like that?”
He walked closer, and I forced myself not to flinch. His eyes were just… wrong. I could tell that despite his calm appearance, something was going on in there, something off, evil… wrong.
He leaned toward me. I wanted to scream. Think, girl! Okay. I knew what this was about. He wanted a reaction. I didn’t give one. Controlling my affect.
He reached out, tracing a finger down my cheek—light, almost gentle. The contact made my stomach turn, but I didn't move away.
“Why me?” I asked.
He raised an eyebrow. “Why not you?”
I smiled, despite the shakiness I was feeling. “That’s not an answer.”
He chuckled under his breath. “You really tryna profile me right now?”
I didn’t answer. I didn’t need to. The smirk told me I’d hit the right note; he liked the attention, liked being analyzed. People like Trell often did. It made them feel special.
“You got pretty eyes,” he said. “Pretty and smart. I see why he keeps you around.”
“Keep?” I repeated lightly. “Damn. You talk like I’m a piece of furniture.”
He stepped back, eyes flicking over me. “You know what you got with him won’t last long. He’s fucking other girls, you know that? But he always gets everything, even if he don’t deserve it. And he definitely don’t deserve something as nice as you.”
Projection.
Identity inversion.
This wasn’t about me. It was about his envy of Mekhi.
“You hate him,” I said softly. “You hate him for having things. Why? Because you don’t have them? Because you think he took some nice things from you?”
His jaw twitched.
Bullseye.
He moved slowly, pacing a small circle. “He took everything. A whole life that should’ve been mine.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re angry he got a life you should’ve had?”
He looked at me sharply. “Don’t psychoanalyze me.”
“I’m literally tied to a chair,” I said dryly. “What else am I supposed to do for entertainment?”
A slow, dangerous smile returned to his face.
“You really something, Farrah.”
He crouched in front of me, elbows on his knees like he was profiling me back.
“You scared?”
My pulse spiked. He could probably see it in my neck. But if I admitted fear, that gave him power. If I denied it outright, that risked provoking him. So, I went with truth. A half one, at least.
“I’m scared of what you might do,” I said calmly. “Not of you.”
His brows shot up. “Not of me?”
“I’ve studied people like you,” I said. “You’re methodical. Calculated. You want specific outcomes, not chaos. If you wanted chaos, you wouldn’t have drugged me. You wouldn’t have tied me neatly. You wouldn’t be talking. You would’ve hurt me already.”
His breathing shifted—just slightly. Bingo. I hid my smile. He wasn’t expecting that level of accuracy.
“So, what? You think I’m predictable?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I think you worry that you are.”
Yeah, he hated that.
“I could still hurt you, kill you.”
His voice was tight. My anxiety went through the roof. My face showed none of that.
“Yeah, you could,” I continued softly. “But you need me alive.”
Something flashed across his face, something angry and defensive. But he just laughed.
“What makes you think that?”
“Because killing me wouldn’t hurt Mekhi as much as watching me disappear. It wouldn’t hurt him as much as knowing someone else had me.”
He froze. I was on to something, so I kept going. Stalling, buying time.
“I think you want to break him,” I said quietly. “Piece by piece. And you think this will do it.”
He didn’t answer. Which was answer enough.
“You think hurting me hurts him,” I said. “But you’re wrong.”
He barked out a laugh. “You sure about that? I bet he losing his damn mind looking for you!”
“He ain’t losing anything. You know what he’s doing? He’s strategizing. He’s calculating. He’s coming.”
Trell’s expression darkened. That made me smile.
“You’re used to people running scared. You’re used to people folding.” I leaned forward as far as the restraints allowed. “I’m not folding. Mekhi sure as hell ain’t folding, boo.”
He moved toward me abruptly, his breathing faster. I swallowed hard. Okay, I’d pushed far enough. Maybe too far. So, I switched tactics the way we practiced in class.
De-escalation.
Reframing.
Redirecting.
“You want Mekhi to see you so badly. Why?” I asked him, but I was asking myself, too.
His head whipped toward me. “You don’t know shit about me!” he hissed.
“I know resentment. I know resentment causes pain that turns into anger because it’s easier to aim at someone than feel it.”
He clenched his jaw.
“You act like Mekhi owed you something he never took.”
A muscle jumped in his cheek. He wrestled with something, and I sat silently, waiting to see which way he’d go. Finally, a rueful smile lifted his lips.
“You’re smart,” he muttered. “Too smart.”
“Then let me go,” I tried.
He laughed bitterly. “Can’t do that.”
“Why? Because you think if you hold me, he’ll break first? He won’t.”
“You don’t really know nothing about him.”
My chin lifted, training forgotten. “I know he’s coming for me.”
He stepped closer, gaze cold. “That’s the point, sweetheart.”
My stomach twisted. After today, nobody better ever call me sweetheart again. Trell wanted the confrontation, even though part of him feared it. I inhaled slowly, forcing my breath steady. I had to keep going, but I couldn’t stall forever.
God, please, I prayed. I know he’s coming. But could You hurry up the process a little?