Chapter 44
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
AKIO
After school, I walked into the house at a time when I knew Mom would be home and dumped my backpack on the couch. She chatted with someone in the next room about a guy named Jett Harleen and paused when she heard my footsteps.
“Akio, is that you?” she called.
I blew out a low breath and walked toward the dining room. “Yeah, it’s me.”
Before I stepped into the room, I prepared myself for the worst possible punishment for what Imani had done to her. I had been avoiding Mom, very successfully, since that dinner and hadn’t had a chance to confront her about it. Or vice versa.
But I needed to suck up today. I needed information.
When I entered the room, Rick Santos glared at me from Mom’s side. I ignored him and leaned against the doorframe, my arms crossed over my chest in a way to protect myself from everything she was about to explode on me for.
“Where have you been all week?” she snarled.
“Working at the pharmacy,” I said. “At school. What kids my age do.”
“We need to talk.” She looked over at Rick. “Leave us.”
“What do you want me to do with Harleen?” Rick said to her.
“Clean up the mess.”
After nodding, Rick headed in my direction to leave the house, shoving me hard into the wall on his way out. I balled my hands into fists, wanting to unleash on him the way I had with his brother. I had wanted to kill someone since this morning, when Nicole had told me what had happened.
She had been holding back information, but at least she’d opened up to me.
One day, I would get to the bottom of it. All I had to do was gain her trust, show her that I would do anything for her, and maybe she would trust me enough to tell me everything that was going on, without hiding any secrets.
Once the front door closed, I sidestepped Mom’s lunge at me. Her fist collided with the wall beside me with a thud. Her knuckles split, blood trickling down her fingers. I waited for her to lunge at me again, but she never did.
“How could you do that to Imani’s parents?” I asked.
Mom clutched her hand. “I did it because her parents hadn’t taught her respect.”
“So, you almost killed them?”
“No,” she said, jaw clenched. “I gave them a warning.”
Fury rushed through me, and for a moment, the thought of killing Mom crossed my mind. She was a threat to Imani and Nicole … except if I did that, I would have an even bigger target on my back. Rick would try to kill me. Everyone in the mob would have it out for me.
Plus, Mom had connections. She had information.
“If you think Imani will back down because you hurt her parents, you’re wrong,” I said, thinking about the pure anger I had seen on her face every single day since that night. “Believe me, I’ve tried to talk her down from hating you for what you did.”
After a pause, Mom walked to the kitchen and turned on the sink. She washed her knuckles underneath the water. I followed after her and stood at the door so I could find an easy escape if she tried anything else.
“Imani has some balls, talking back to me,” Mom said. “I wish you had the same.”
I flared my nostrils and took the jab. “We need to talk about?—”
“She would be a good leader,” Mom continued. “Much better than you would be.”
“For what?” I snapped. “To lead your stupid mob?”
She tightened her hand into a fist underneath the flowing water. “Yes.”
“She won’t be interested in it.”
“Maybe not now,” Mom murmured. “But I can be quite convincing.”
After I bit back a sour response because Imani would never be interested in any shit that Mom had to offer, she turned off the water and grabbed a towel from the drawer beside the sink to wipe off her hands.
“Do you know anyone nicknamed Pick?” I asked, not wanting to draw this out any longer.
Mom peered over at me, one brow arched. “Why?”
“Do you?”
“Is this about your little girlfriend?”
“No,” I exclaimed. “It’s not about Nicole.”
Even though it one hundred percent was. But I didn’t want her thinking that I cared about Nicole. She would use Nicole against me. She’d hurt her to hurt me, to force me into doing shit for her. And I couldn’t let that happen.
“Then, why do you wanna know?”
“Because I need to talk to him.”
Mom placed down the towel and grabbed her gun on the counter. “About what?”
I gritted my teeth and turned around to leave. “Forget it.”
“How about I make you a deal?” she said, stuffing her gun into the waistband of her pants and stalking toward me the way she always did to try to intimidate me. “You do a job for me, and I’ll give you information on Pick.”
I clenched my jaw and glared at her, knowing that this was a shit idea. “Deal.”