CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE Honor Killings
VANYA
“I GOT THIS for you.” Quentin was watching Ahmad as he held out a bag that he said was for me. We were in the first showing that we’d kept despite having our familial connection exposed. I still had a job to do and I was going to do it even better than normal since this was my family.
Quentin held out his hand signaling that he wanted Ahmad to open it up. I put my hands on my hips because I thought we’d moved past this. “Are you really about to do this right now?”
Quentin didn’t even bother to stop what he was doing because he had a job to do. “Bruh, you know your husband as your habibi . Your eshgham. I know him as shahzadeh . I fear no man nor do I fear death. But I enjoy living and I love doing my job well. I’m not finna die over something stupid.”
“That’s my blood.” Ahmad’s smile he was just giving Quentin shit and it was clear that Quentin knew it as well.
“And people fuck their blood over all the time. Just open it up so I can see it.”
All of this was getting on my nerves. Despite our texting and trying to have an organic relationship, I didn’t want this lifestyle to put him off. “How long do we have to do this?”
“I know he’s good, I just like fucking wit ‘im.” Quentin went back to grinning and I popped his arm for stressing me out.
“Quentin, I don’t tell Xerx you cuss around me now, so I think you’re doing entirely too much.”
The grin dropped off his face, and now it was Ahmad’s turn to laugh. “Black mail?”
“No! You just need to be nice.”
“Whatever man. Let her have it.” He waved at the bag and I wondered what was inside.
“It’s just photo albums. The stuff that our people ain’t throw away when they got tired of storing it or couldn’t sell.” Ahmad held out the bag nervously and I took it with a grateful smile.
“That’s fucked up. Xerxes’ to do list just keeps getting longer.” Quentin folded his arms like the idea made him happy instead of sad.
“He might have to get in line for that one. I went through the pain of that. An assist is more than fine, but getting my hands dirty is the key to me keeping my head on straight.”
Ahmad nodded toward the bag in my hand hesitantly. “I had some photos reprinted and bound up for you and the rest transferred to a flash drive. It ain’t a lot—”
My heart was full but I couldn’t open that album. Not right now. The emotions that would overcome me would be too much and I would need to go home and climb under Xerxes. When we weren’t in the middle of a showing, I would sit down and share in memories that I couldn’t grasp but had somehow held onto the shadow of them for years. “It’s way more than I had. Thank you. This is truly something that money could never buy me.”
“I get it. I like to think our parents had a hand in this. The offer from Charlotte came out of left field. I wasn’t really feeling being in New York like that—”
Quentin chimed in from the peanut gallery just then. “Besides you, they suck—”
Ahmad’s laughter was his agreement with Quentin’s statement. “True. And I hated spending that kind of money to play for a team that wasn’t going anywhere. The shit was pissing me off. Charlotte ain’t cheap, but it is compared to up there. I wanted to be back south where winter ain’t half the year and my ass can get some color back.” He held out his hands that were a caramel color and I looked down at him in jealousy.
“You have way more than me.”
Quentin scoffed in melanin rich arrogance. “Barely. Both y’all asses pale.”
I was cackling because he truly didn’t care what he said. “Bruh!”
“I’m just speaking the truth.”
“We can look at this later when we have time. I know you bout to ask me about a thousand questions. I’mma have to dig real deep to remember and we can’t do that here since we’re on limited time. Now that we got that out the way, you wanna show me around this place?”
I felt so much relief that I hadn’t offended him by not stopping right now. “Thank you in advance for your patience with all the questions. I’ve been crazy emotional with all the changes that have gone on. I’m just so thankful.”
Ahmad’s brows shot up and eyed me up and down with hopeful eyes. “You pregnant?”
My mouth dropped open because who in the world just led with uterus talk? “Sir!”
He rubbed the back of his head like he knew he’d overstepped. “My fault. I’m just saying I don’t know my sister. I gotta see if this is normal or if I need to set up a trust fund or something.”
Quentin’s sarcastic laugh came from by the door and I looked behind Ahmad to see him leaned against it, shaking his head. “You trying to have that man hang you off the roof, huh? Acting like he can’t take care of his kids.”
Ahmad flipped him off, which only had Quentin laugh harder. “Again, he has my sister, but she’s my sister—”
I cut him off and waved my hands because they were not about to give me a headache. “We are not about to do this. Y’all gone argue on your own time. We’re here to see this place.”
He glanced around like he cared about the space for the first time. I knew about his net worth based on the financial information I had sent over before I would work with any customer. The apartment we were in today was something that was typical for a Charlotte bachelor. I had no issue with him living in the penthouse in our building, but this location was one that was key with his work and security for him. He nodded as he looked at the large windows and the wall to wall wood floors before he turned back to me.
“I mean, it looks nice as shit. Would you buy it?”
“You don’t want me to give you the rundown?” His blind trust was sweet, but I needed to know it was going to actually work for him in the long run.
He headed toward the large windows that were a key feature of most penthouses. We were in the middle of uptown, but unlike New York the skyline wasn’t so high that no sunlight or true city views could come through. This part of the city was a mix of residences and businesses so he could have access to what he needed. Because of the height of the building, he could see the training facility from his bedroom.
“How far is it from the facility?”
“You could jog to work because it’s less than ten minutes depending on foot traffic. There’s covered garage parking so even if they know where you live, they can’t get here because the security is about as good as in our building.” Quentin smiled and I knew he took pride in the team he’d put in at the complex.
Ahmad was looking around and nodding again but I wasn’t clear on what he was thinking. “The place is nice as fuck. But I need to look at something else.”
I was happy to accept his feedback because I had other listings I could take him to. “Okay, what specs—”
Ahmad raised his hand to gently interrupt. “Nah, I want this too. But it’s clear ain’t shit for me in Norfolk worth going back for. I need a long-term house.” That was shocking to me because I hadn’t looked at single-family homes for him.
“What kind of long term?”
“You staying here?”
“Well, yeah.”
His hands went into the pockets of his basketball shorts before he responded. “Then something I can have a family in. Whatever house you think will work.”
I nodded his understanding because essentially Ahmad had been an orphan too. His only family had been the ghosts of our parents and the memory of me that everyone tried to get him to deny. Our blood relatives hadn’t been good to him and I understood why he’d distanced himself.
“It’s a buyer’s market right now, especially if you’re paying cash.”
“Absolutely.”
I pulled out my phone to take notes and to send a message out to Navi to see if she had any leads for a single family mansion. Mentally, I was going through the ones I hadn’t shown Xerxes or his parents. “What part of the city do you want to be in? I’m sure you not gone care about the school system or anything like that because most people go to private school.”
His brows dipped and he glanced at Quentin before he continued. “Where y’all at?”
“We live outside of Charlotte but there are several upscale areas. There’s south Charlotte which is Ballantyne and South Park where Vincent is. Further north is Lake Norman, and out west you can custom build in the Sanctuary. If you want to go more rural you could have a bigger piece of land.”
“Show me whatever out the way. I need a dip off spot that’s not this place when I need a second to breathe. Y’all might not want me camping out in your guest house and shit.”
“Can’t. Me and Sho live there.” Quentin seemed to love needling Ahmad and it was clear they’d had a semi-close relationship before this.
“Damn.” He was smiling but I could tell he had something on his mind.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nah, I feel like I’m coming on too strong right now and I can get how that shit might be weird. I know them people ain’t do right by you since you ended up married to the last person you called your brother so I get why you’re hesitant.”
I laughed but I really appreciated that he was thinking of me in this situation despite how I knew he was feeling. “It’s really not that. I don’t know how to be a sister you know? The last time I tried to do that it ended up all weird. I’m working through that but still.”
“I get it. When me and Xerxes talked before he told me dude was no good. It’s why I’m trying not to be too crazy.” He confessed shyly and I could appreciate his honesty.
“Y’all talking behind my back is clearly going to be a thing. Since you want this place and I have a new task on top of it, can you tell me about our parents since we have all this free time?”
Ahmad smiled but it was still slightly sad. “Our pops is a legend. I know a lot of people looked down on him because of how he made his money, but maybe it was just the fact that I was his son that I could look past that.”
“So he sold drugs?”
He nodded unapologetically and I hoped he didn’t think I was being judgmental. “Weed. But pushed a lot of it. A lot of his credit came the way he didn’t tolerate disrespect.”
“He passed that trait right down to you didn’t he, Eight?” Quentin was smirking again and I was curious about the extent of their relationship. I knew it involved guns but that was all.
“You was pulling guns on me now you a fan?”
“I know talent no matter who it is. But one thing I won’t do is be derelict in my duties. Since she’s your sister, you should more than respect that. But everybody knows Eight.”
“Why do they call you Eight?” I knew of sports but I didn’t know sports.
The sad smile was back on his face and he pointed to one of the tattoos on his arm. “Play on words from way back. I was number three when I was in the peewee league. It was the only time that our parents got to watch me play. Daddy called me ate ‘cause that’s how it looked when you put it up on the screen-AT3. They died and that shit hurt me to think about them never seeing me play again. So I held onto the name in their memory. I ain’t like people in my business so I just started wearing the number eight so they wouldn’t ask too many questions.”
“Damn, that’s deep. But why do you think that people would ask questions?”
He pointed to the bar that had the stools from the pervious owner. We made our way to sit and he held out the chair for me to climb in. Ahmad rest his hands on the counter and faced me. “Folks like to make you the sad black boy all the time. Press you about your personal life and push a narrative. They tried to say that the stuff that happened with us was gang affiliated or a drug deal gone wrong. They would bring it up all the time like they would get some kinda sound bite to confirm what people assumed. Our uncle would always try to play up the situation for his own clout that he couldn’t get off making a name for himself.”
“That’s sad.”
He gave me a half smile and I could see the hurt in his big brown eyes. “It was. I’m all for you making your own judgment with them, but I don’t keep in contact. You’re more than welcome to judge them for yourself.”
“Are they moochers or?”