Chapter Five
After the chaos at Rell’s club, Danger sat at the bar inside the clubhouse, one elbow resting against the counter.
A half-empty bottle of Bourbon sat in front of him, alongside a glass he’d refilled more times than he intended.
He had taken his brother's place. Normally, that’s where Crown would be, lost in thought and sipping his drink.
Unfortunately, the Bourbon wasn’t unwinding Danger. Instead, it had him thinking and feeling more. It had been a minute since he’d been with a woman, and with the liquor in his system and the R Danger wasn’t used to going without. But grief had a way of shifting everything, even him.
Grief.
His heart throbbed at the thought of Lil Mo’s death, and he bowed his head for a moment, pushing the hurt away before it could settle.
Reaching for the bottle again, he poured some onto the floor beside his stool for her, then poured the rest into his glass.
After tossing it back, he pulled his phone out of his pocket.
Several unread messages. Multiple missed calls.
All different women from different area codes.
He had so many options that he’d lost count.
Yet none of them felt right for his vibe.
Yeah, he wanted pussy, but he needed someone with personality, too.
His thumb hovered over the screen before landing on one name… only she was on his mind that night.
Caresha.
Maybe it was because she was something new, or perhaps it was the memory of her pretty face that lingered in his mind.
Either way, Danger wanted to get to know her on a deeper level.
He glanced at the clock and saw it was 11:05.
After a moment’s hesitation, he shrugged and mumbled, “Fuck it,” before texting her.
Sup, ma. How was your day?
The reply came slow, so slow that after twenty minutes and a few song changes, Danger nearly forgot he’d even sent it.
Caresha: Who’s this?
The vibration on the bar brought him back. Danger looked down and read the response before typing back.
Take a guess. How many niggas you gave yo’ number to recently?
Caresha: Plenty.
Danger chuckled under his breath as he typed.
Cap.
Caresha: Hmph, how you figure?
You don’t strike me as easy. You just be talkin’ shit. Yo’ ass fake ghetto.
Caresha: Lmfao. Dude, really?
Hell yeah. How was your day?
Caresha: Decent. Just got off work. I’m exhausted and starving. How was yours?
Long. I’m tired too. Shit, let me come lay wit’ you. Matter fact, I’ll bring food and then we both get some rest.
Caresha: Absolutely the fuck not.
Danger grinned as he pressed down on her number and called FaceTime.
He was done with the back-and-forth through text.
If she didn’t let him stop by, at least he could see her face through the screen.
As the call connected, he leaned back against the stool, a mix of curiosity and excitement bubbling up inside him for some reason.
“What you want?” Caresha sassed, picking up on the fourth ring. “And don’t get cussed out. You not coming to lay with me.”
“I was just fuckin’ wit’ you.” Danger half-lied, a smile tugging at his lips.
“No, you wasn’t.”
“Aight, you right. I do want to see you. Let me come through. I ain’t gotta lay.” He admired her beauty through the screen, noticing she had taken down her braids and was now sporting her natural hair. It was thick and curly, and he loved that look.
“You not coming here. I don’t know you like that.”
“That’s why I’m tryna come through, so we can learn more about one another.”
“Aht, aht. It’s 11 o’clock at night.”
“What that mean?”
“It means you’re still plotting to lay. The only things open this late are legs and 7-Elevens. Your interest isn’t really in getting to know me.” Caresha slid off her hoop earrings, rolling her eyes as she tossed them onto the dresser.
Danger shook his head as he bit down on his bottom lip. “Nah, that’s not what I’m on.”
“Look me in my face and say that.”
Danger took a moment before his hooded gaze met hers through the screen again.
“I ain’t gon’ hold you. If you was willing to give it, I’d damn sho take it. I’m a man at the end of the day. But I ain’t even pressing you about that. I genuinely just wanna see your pretty face.”
Silence fell between them as they stared at each other.
“Mm-hmm. You seeing it now.”
“This not enough. I wanna see it in person, ma.”
“Well, it’s too late. You ain’t coming up in here.”
“That’s cool. Let me take you to get something to eat then. You hungry, right? I’ll take you to get food, then drop you back off.”
At the mention of food, Caresha perked up. It was the key to her happiness.
“Where you think you taking me to eat this late?” She tried to maintain her tough demeanor, but her stomach growled in protest. She hadn’t eaten since her lunch break earlier that day.
“I know a few spots.”
Caresha went quiet for a moment, contemplating. “You serious?”
“Look me in my eyes. Hell yeah, I’m serious. I don’t want nothing but conversation from you and to feed you.”
A heavy sigh came through the phone from her end.
“Well, look, I just got off. I need to shower and find something to throw on. Give me about thirty-five minutes. Maybe even an hour.”
“Send the addy. I’m on the way.”
“I said thirty-five minutes or an hour, nigga.”
“And I said I’m on the way. I’ll wait out front for you. Yo’ ass ain’t ‘bout to get sleepy in that shower and change yo’ mind on me.”
Without giving her a chance to respond, Danger ended the call, slid off the stool, and headed out.
It took him only ten minutes to drop his bike off at home and retrieve his car.
Following the address Caresha had sent, he pushed his matte black SRT Hellcat through the Hills and arrived at her place in fifteen.
As he parked, Danger scanned his surroundings.
Caresha lived in the heart of the hood, Hills Borough.
Even late at night, the entire block buzzed with life.
He had spent a fair amount of time in these apartments during his younger years, so much so that familiar faces approached him as they recognized his car.
A few women he’d fucked with in the past tried to catch his attention, but he quickly shook his head, dismissing them before they could jeopardize his mission and have Caresha stand his ass up.
“Sup,” he said, leaning against the passenger door, slapping hands and catching up.
Danger was used to this. It didn’t matter where he went in the city; his presence held weight. Not only was he a Knight, but he was also an extrovert. He thrived on parties and good times, often alongside Mo. With that kind of status and personality, he always stayed in the mix.
Just as he wrapped up his conversation, a message pinged on Danger’s phone. He picked it up, expecting it to be Caresha, but quickly realized it was Crown.
Big Bro: Aye, remember what the fuck I told you, nigga.
Fuck you talkin’ ‘bout, bro?
Big Bro: Be very careful where you headed to or you just might end up in a ditch, bitch.
Confused, Danger paused for a moment before glancing up at Caresha’s apartment building. It didn’t take long for him to connect the dots; Caresha must’ve told Nivéa he was picking her up.
This nigga…
Danger shook his head and shot his brother a middle finger emoji, then blocked him. Crown got on his fucking nerves, always in his business. He couldn’t even mack in peace. But he made a mental note to unblock him first thing in the morning.
After sending the response, Danger climbed back into his car, leaned back in his seat, and relaxed slightly. But his eyes stayed alert, his hand gripping the gun resting in his lap, just in case. Not everyone loved the Knights, and he refused to be caught slipping.
As expected, Caresha stepped out of the house about forty-five minutes later, wearing a two-piece set. She had no idea where Danger was taking her and felt a little confused about how to dress. But she figured it couldn’t be anywhere too fancy, considering how late it was.
Her feet barely hit the ground before he was out of his car. As she approached, he held open the passenger door for her, earning a few unspoken points in her book.
“Hey,” she spoke, feeling a flutter of nerves as she looked up at his 6’1 frame.
“Sup, ma,” Danger replied, unable to resist admiring the shape of her ass as she slid into the seat.
While he headed around the car, he adjusted himself out of respect. She had him on brick.
“Did you decide where we’re going?” Caresha asked once he got into the car.
“Yeah, Brims.”
Caresha nodded in approval as he pulled out the lot. There was no argument there. Brims had great food. It was a family-owned after-hours spot that served just about everything. Her stomach rumbled at the thought of their homemade onion rings and tropical punch, both of which she loved.
“Cool, I love Brims. But I haven’t eaten there in ages. It’s expensive.”
Danger shrugged. “You get what you pay for. Everything in that muthafucka made from scratch. Gotta pay for that.”
“Yep, you right about that.”
“But you ain’t gotta worry ‘bout prices. Like I told you, it’s on me. Whatever you want.”
Caresha stole a glance at his handsome face, fighting back a blush as she watched him grip the leather steering wheel.
She suspected he was running game, but she was determined to stay one step ahead.
Her goal was to get something out of this encounter while keeping his troubled ass at a safe distance.
Danger was something else. She could tell from the moment she first laid eyes on him.
“Okay,” she said, going along with the vibe.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-six. How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine.”