Chapter 29
JASMINE MILLER
Marcus was dead. Marcus was dead.
The realization finally hit me as I stared at his lifeless body. Bile rose in my throat as I stumbled back and threw up. My knees buckled as the little salad I’d eaten earlier splattered onto the ground.
My head spun and my vision blurred. I’d seen dead bodies before, working in the ER. Shit, I’d been there when a few patients took their last breath. But watching somebody’s life get snatched in front of you was different. My body shook as I dry heaved, gasping for air.
“Hey, hey.” Cash’s deep voice broke through the fog. His arms wrapped around me and pulled me upright. “I got you, baby. I got you.”
I looked up at him through a haze of tears. His face was pretty beat up—he had a nasty gash above his eyebrow, a busted lip, and dirt smeared across his cheeks. But he was here. He was real.
“You hurt?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I reached for his face, then moved down to his chest. He flinched when I brushed against his ribs.
“This ain’t shit,” he grunted.
“Yo, hate to rush y’all, but we gotta move. Now,” Nairobi said.
Cash nodded. “We’ll take the Yukon.” He jerked his head toward the truck still idling nearby. Everything happened so fast, I’d forgotten all about it.
“Where’s the driver at?” Nairobi asked, looking around the garage.
“That nigga took off soon as Money and ol’ boy started tusslin,” Jelani said.
“At least he left the keys,” Cash said. He tightened his hands around my shoulders, steadying me. “You good to walk?”
I nodded even though my legs still felt shaky. We moved toward the truck. Jelani slid into the driver’s seat, Nairobi hopped in next to him, and Cash climbed in the back with me.
“You just gonna leave him like that?” I asked. I didn’t know the rules to any of this shit, but leaving him there felt… wrong.
“Yeah,” Cash said. He pulled close and planted a soft kiss on my forehead. He sounded cold and indifferent. “He’ll be another casualty of tonight’s shit. Don’t worry about it.”
Jelani revved the engine and drove the truck out of the parking garage. Outside was pure insanity. Two cars were on fire, the dark smoke filling the night air as firefighters worked to douse them. EMTs rushed around, loading the injured on stretchers and into waiting ambulances.
A cop stepped in front of the truck before we could merge onto the street.
My heart jumped into my throat. This was it—we were about to get arrested.
I was about to go to prison. We looked guilty as fuck—dirt smudged on our faces, Nairobi had blood on hers.
I prayed he wouldn’t see Cash in the back, who looked the worst out of all of us.
Jelani rolled down the window and turned the charm on, feeding the officer some story about us just wanting to get home. Whatever he said was good enough because the officer waved us through without a second glance.
I exhaled, my eyes glued to the chaos outside.
My body felt heavy, like all the adrenaline that had kept me moving had finally left.
By the time we hit the highway, exhaustion had me slumped against Cash’s chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounded me, even as my feet throbbed from those damn heels.
“Wake up,” Cash whispered, shaking me gently. My eyes fluttered open, and I squinted at the sight outside the tinted window. We were parked in the driveway of a large, well-lit cabin surrounded by towering trees. There were no other houses around.
I yawned. “Where are we?” I asked groggily.
“Somewhere safe,” Cash replied. “We’re gonna stay here for a few days till shit dies down.” Jelani and Nairobi were already out of the truck.
I reached for the door handle, but Cash stopped me.
His warm fingers brushed against my skin as he yanked the necklace off.
I inhaled, remembering the look on his face when he first saw it.
I didn’t say anything. Instead, I opened the door and kicked off my heels before I stepped out.
The gravel pressed into my bare feet, every step sending a dull ache up my legs, but I pushed through.
Inside, Slim was sprawled on an oversized gray couch, one leg propped on the coffee table while a movie played on the flatscreen TV. He looked over and lifted a hand in greeting, like this was just another day at the office.
The place felt like a well-kept Airbnb rather than a safe house with its polished wooden floors and modern furniture.
I noticed Fontaine and Nairobi hugged up in a corner as Cash led me upstairs. The master suite was spacious and simple—a king-sized bed and a dark dresser that complemented the furniture downstairs. Thick curtains lined the tall windows.
“What about my stuff?” I asked as I glanced around the room. “Everything’s still in his penthouse.”
“You’ll get it tomorrow,” Cash said, lowering himself carefully into an armchair. He winced as he pressed a hand to his side. “Nai grabbed you some things in the meantime.” He nodded toward a pile of shopping bags near the bed.
“Thanks,” I murmured. I leaned down to kiss him, but he pulled back slightly, his eyes dropping to my hand.
I followed his gaze and froze—the ring.
Without saying a word, he reached for my hand and gently slid it off.
“Go shower,” he said, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t place.
I frowned. I wanted to question him, but pressed my lips together, grabbed the bags, and headed into the en-suite bathroom. I was surprised to see it was stocked with everything I could need—a shower cap, body wash, shampoo, even a small jar of whipped shea butter that smelled faintly of mango.
Steam filled the bathroom as I stepped under the hot water. It was a little too hot, but I didn’t care. I needed to wash away any evidence of tonight. So I got to work, scrubbing my skin until it felt raw, trying to free myself from the weight of the night—the past week—off me.
I sighed, blinking back tears—no more of that. I’d done enough crying for the last year, and I was tired of it.
Once I dried off, I reached for the shea butter.
The sweet mango scent calmed me—it reminded me of my personal collection of body oils that I had at home.
While I rubbed it into my skin, I made a mental note to thank Nairobi.
She’d thought of everything, including the new pack of underwear and a soft pajama shorts set that I put on.
In the bedroom, Cash was still sitting in the armchair. His head was leaned back as his hand rested lightly over his ribs. His eyes were closed, but I could tell that he wasn’t asleep.
“Cash?” I called softly.
He opened his eyes, but there was no warmth in them.
“Let me take a look at your ribs,” I said, stepping toward him. “They might be broken.”
He sat up and grimaced. His hand was still pressed to his side. “I’m fine, Jas,” he grunted roughly. “They’re just bruised.”
He pushed himself to his feet and brushed past me on his way to the bathroom. The sound of the shower filled the silence in the room.
I didn’t know what else to do, so I went down to the kitchen to get something to drink.
Most of the lights downstairs were off, except for the ones in the hallway and kitchen. Jelani and Slim were on the couch watching the evening news.
“We’re reporting live from Councilman Dorsey’s Gala, which came under attack this evening. Multiple injuries have been reported, and there were a few casualties, including businessman, Marcus Stokes, who had just been awarded Entrepreneur of the Year…”
I turned away, tuning out the rest, and opened the fridge. It was fully stocked with juices and sparkling waters, but I needed something stronger to take the edge off.
“What you lookin’ for, nurse?”
I jumped slightly. Jelani was leaning against the kitchen island, watching me.
I rolled my eyes and closed the fridge. “How the hell do you move so quietly?”
“I called your name,” he shrugged. “You didn’t answer, so here I am.”
“Where’s the liquor?” I asked, opening cabinets, looking for a glass.
Jelani cocked his head, studying me. “For you or Money?”
“Me,” I said. I pulled out a glass and set it on the counter.
Jelani pursed his lips before rounding the island to open a lower cabinet. When he stood back up, he held two bottles—tequila and rum.
“Pick your poison.”
I grabbed the tequila and poured myself a heavy shot. I tossed it back, no chaser in sight.
“Damn, Jas,” Jelani chuckled. “The fuck got you drinking like that?”
I shook my head and poured myself another shot. “How can you just be okay with all of this? Like this shit is normal.”
He leaned back on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “I mean, coming to New York City to rescue my brother’s girlfriend isn’t normal,” he countered.
“You know what I mean,” I said, throwing back the second shot.
This had to be some expensive ass tequila, judging by the way it went down so smoothly.
“Slim was up in here chillin’ and watching a movie when we got here.
Now y’all are watching the news like we weren’t the cause of all that. How are y’all so calm?”
Jelani’s expression sombered, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced with something darker. “This ain’t new to us,” he said. “It’s kill or be killed—you learn to keep it pushing.”
He paused, his gaze going distant like he was recalling a memory. “My mom tried to keep us out of my pop’s shit, but after he got killed, it didn’t matter. The streets came knocking, and Money had no choice but to answer. He wasn’t about to let us go back to the hood.”
He let out a dry, bitter chuckle. “I don’t even think about it anymore. I can’t. It’s too much. I’ve just been lucky that it hasn’t been me yet.”
I stayed quiet. I knew Cash had his own demons when it came to his father’s death, but Jelani never opened up like this to me before.
“Cash’s mad at me,” I blurted.
Jelani raised his eyebrows. “Mad? For what?”
I sighed, leaning against the counter. “I don’t know. He’s barely said anything to me since we got here, and brushed me off when I tried to help him.”