Chapter 2
Indie
“Indie—”
“Don’t,” I said, cutting Ish off before he could start. “I don’t want to hear it right now.”
But he kept talking anyway. “I’m sorry. I know I fucked up. I know I should’ve listened to you.”
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the rage that was still burning in my chest. When I opened them again, I looked at my little brother. He was terrified. I could see it in his eyes, in the way his hands were shaking even though he was trying to hide it.
And despite everything, despite how angry I was, my protective instinct kicked in.
“Why, Ish?” My voice came out soft. “You got your whole life ahead of you. You smart, Ish. You could go to college, be something better than this.”
“With what money?” he shot back. “You think I don’t see how hard you work? You think I don’t know you working at that strip club, dealing with drunk niggas grabbing at you every night, just to keep a roof over our heads? I was just tryna help. I wanted to take some of that pressure off you.”
“By selling drugs? That’s your solution?”
“It’s fast money, Indie. Real money. I could’ve made in one night what you make in a week.”
“And you could’ve ended up dead or in jail!” I was yelling now, unable to keep my emotions in check. “Is that what you want? You wanna end up like Mama? You wanna throw your life away?”
“Don’t compare me to her,” Ish said, his jaw clenching. “I ain’t nothing like her.”
“You’re right. You’re worse. Because at least she was just hurting herself. You out here putting both of us in danger with your stupid decisions.”
“I was tryna help!”
“Well, congratulations, Ish. Look where your help got us.”
We were still arguing when the door opened. And that’s when I saw him for the first time.
This nigga fine as hell.
That was my first thought, which was absolutely insane given the circumstances. But it was true.
The man who walked through that door was easily six-five, built like he spent every day in the gym.
His skin was a smooth medium brown, and he was covered in tattoos.
They ran up his neck, down his arms, probably all over his body under the black tee and jeans clinging to his frame.
His face was all sharp angles. He had a strong jawline, high cheekbones, dark eyes that seemed to look right through you.
He had a neatly trimmed beard, and his hair was cut in a fade with the top slightly longer.
He looked like he could kill you with his bare hands and not lose a second of sleep over it.
Behind him came three other dudes, including Gold Teeth, who was now holding a rag to his head where I’d hit him with my gun.
The fine-ass man, who I assumed was Stone, looked at me and Ish with an expression that gave away absolutely nothing. His face was blank, emotionless, like he was looking at objects instead of people.
“Shut the fuck up,” he said, his voice deep and cold.
Ish immediately went quiet. I, on the other hand, screwed up my face.
“Excuse me?”
Stone’s eyes shifted to me, and I felt the temperature in the room drop about ten degrees.
“I said shut the fuck up. Both of you. I don’t wanna hear shit unless I ask you a question.”
“Nigga, fuck you,” I said before I could stop myself. “You can’t just—”
“Indie, chill,” Ish begged, his voice desperate. “Please just listen.”
Stone smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. It was the kind of smile a predator gives right before it strikes.
“You know who I am?” he asked, walking closer to me.
“No, and I don’t give a fuck either.”
The smile widened. “I’m Stone. And I don’t know who the fuck you think you talking to, but I ain’t the one. You in my city, on my corner, pulling guns on my people. That’s a problem.”
“Your people grabbed my brother. That’s the problem.”
“Yo’ brother,” Stone said, turning his attention to Ish, “was tryna work my corner. Selling shit I ain’t give him. Shit I ain’t authorize. That’s a violation. A serious one.”
“He’s sixteen,” I said. “He’s a kid who made a stupid mistake.”
“He old enough to know better.” Stone walked over to Ish, looking down at him. “Ain’t that right, Ishmael?”
Ish’s eyes went even wider. “You—you know my name?”
“I know everything that happen in my city. I know you tried to get put on a few weeks ago, too. You remember that?”
Ish nodded slowly.
“And what they told you?”
“That... that I was too young. That I should stay in school.”
“Exactly. But you just don’t give a fuck, right?” Stone’s voice was calm, almost conversational, which somehow made it more terrifying. “So, tell me why I shouldn’t kill you and your sister right now, Ishmael?”
Ish didn’t answer.
“Talk nigga!” Stone said fiercely, going from zero to one hundred in an instant. “Tell me why I shouldn’t put a bullet in both y’all heads.”
“No!” I shouted, struggling against the ropes. “No, you can’t—”
“Shut the fuck up!” Stone turned on me, his voice like a whip crack. “I ain’t talking to yo’ ass right now.”
“I don’t give a fuck! You ain’t killing my brother!”
Stone walked over to me, moving so fast I didn’t have time to react. He grabbed my jaw roughly in one large hand, forcing me to look up at him.
“You got a real problem with following directions, don’t you? Must run in the family.”
I tried to jerk my head away, but his grip was too strong. So instead, I did the only thing I could think of. I stared right back at him, and that’s when I saw it.
In his eyes, underneath all that cold calculation and danger, there was something else. Something I recognized immediately because I’d seen it a thousand times before.
Lust.
This nigga wanted to fuck me.
The realization hit me like a lightning bolt, and my mind immediately shifted gears. I’d been operating on pure emotion. Anger, fear, protectiveness. But now I saw an opening. A way to maybe, possibly, get us out of this alive.
I maintained eye contact as I let my tongue slip out, just barely, and licked his thumb where it was pressed near my mouth.
Stone’s eyes widened slightly. The first real reaction I’d seen from him. His grip on my jaw tightened for a second, then loosened.
“Send my brother out,” I said, my voice lower now. “I need to talk to you. Alone.”
“Indie, no—” Ish started, but I cut him off.
“Ish, be quiet. Please.”
Stone was still staring at me, his expression unreadable again. But I could see the wheels turning in his head. After what felt like forever, he let go of my jaw and stepped back.
“Get the lil’ nigga outta here,” he said to his people without taking his eyes off me. “Don’t touch him yet.”
Two of the dudes moved toward Ish, starting to untie him from the chair.
“Indie, what are you doing?” Ish was asking, panic in his voice. “Indie, don’t—”
“It’s gon’ be okay,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “Just go with them. I’ll handle this.”
“I’m not leaving you!”
“Yes, you are.” I looked at him, putting every ounce of authority I had into my voice. “Go. Now.”
They finished untying him and pulled him to his feet. Ish kept looking back at me as they dragged him toward the door, his eyes pleading. Then he was gone.
The door closed, and I was alone with Stone.
He walked around me slowly, like a shark circling prey. I kept my eyes forward, refusing to show the fear that was creeping up my spine. He didn’t say anything, just stared down at me with those cold, calculating eyes.
I took a breath, steadying myself. This was it. This was my shot.
“Let my brother go,” I said. “Let him live, and you can have me.”
Stone raised an eyebrow. “Have you?”
“Yeah. You can keep me. Fuck me. Do whatever you want with me. However you want, for however long you want. Just let Ish go home safe.”
He stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he laughed, and it was a short, harsh sound.
“You think I can’t get pussy? You think I need you to offer yourself to me?”
“I think you get plenty of pussy,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “But you don’t get my pussy. This pussy is top tier. Let me prove it to you. I can see in your eyes that you want it.”
His jaw clenched. “You don’t know shit about what I want.”
“I don’t?” I held his gaze. “You been staring at me since you walked in here. You grabbed my face, and I felt how your hand shook just a little when I licked your thumb. You want me. And I’m offering myself to you. All you gotta do is let my brother walk out of here alive.”
“I could just take it,” Stone said, his voice low and dangerous. “I could fuck you right here, right now, and still kill your brother. What’s stopping me from doing that?”
“Nothing,” I admitted. “But you won’t.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I don’t believe you that type of nigga. You a killer, yeah. But you got a code. I can see it. And taking pussy by force? That ain’t your style.”
We stared at each other, the tension in the room so thick I could barely breathe.
“You got a lot of confidence for somebody tied to a chair,” Stone said.
“I got a lot of confidence period. So, what’s it gon’ be, Stone? You want me or not?”
Stone moved closer, so close I could smell his cologne. It smelled expensive. He leaned down, his face inches from mine.
“You really willing to give yourself to me to save him? You know what I do to people who cross me?”
“It ain’t hard to guess. And yeah, I’m willing. That’s my little brother. I’d do anything for him.”
“Even let me fuck you however I want? For as long as I want?”
“Yes.”
“What if I wanna keep you for a week? A month?”
“Then you keep me for a week or a month. Long as my brother is safe, I don’t give a fuck.”
Stone studied my face, looking for any sign of hesitation or fear. I made sure he didn’t find any.
The air between us was thick with tension. Anger, lust, danger, all mixed together. And despite everything, despite the fact that this man had just threatened to kill me and Ishmael, despite the fact that I was tied to a chair in an abandoned warehouse, I felt myself getting wet.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Finally, he straightened up and pulled out his phone. He made a call, and I heard it ring twice before someone picked up.