Chapter 15
“I can’t stand those green ass bubbles,” Nia’s voice flowed clearly into Reign’s hotel room. “I was just making sure you were still coming over.”
Reign looked at her basic outfit and hummed.
Her hair was still wrapped and pinned. The scrapes from falling into the bushes nights ago almost going away with the lotion supplied from the hotel.
In Port Lucia, a girls’ night always consisted of Javier placing her with other women he had in rotation.
Drugs, liquor, and closely monitored fun.
Fun that always ended up with her being punished in some manner.
While she didn’t get those vibes from Nia, she was hesitant. She didn’t want to be na?ve. She didn’t want to fall into a trap. She didn’t want to get three steps ahead and be knocked back ten.
Reign huffed and grimaced. “Yeah. How do I get there?”
Nia chuckled. “Don’t worry about a cab or the subway. I’m sending a JoyRide to come get you. One of these days, we’ll get you acclimated with the city.”
Reign grimaced again. The city was overwhelming – nerve-wracking. How she walked a twenty pound box down blocks was beyond her, but she was proud she’d did it.
“Sooo,” Nia’s voice broke the silence. “You comin’? I got wine. I’m working on some pasta but it might be pizza if I burn the sauce again.”
“Yeah,” Reign softly replied. “No wine for me though.”
Nia didn’t argue, just smiled in her voice. “I have a bunch of stuff. I’ll send the car. I’ll see you soon!”
“See you,” Reign hummed before flipping her phone closed. “Well, Reign, here goes nothing. Or something. God please let this be good for me.”
She stopped and scoffed at herself. “You got the nerve to mention God.”
Reign pulled herself out of the bathroom, took the travel size of lotion, rubbed her cut feet with the watered down moisturizer and finished dressing.
Sure to grab the hoodie off of the ottoman, she stuffed her money down into her bra and underneath her left boob.
She was getting in the habit of always having her money on her person.
If anything happened and she needed to run, she’d be okay.
A text came through from Nia letting her know the JoyRide was arriving in six minutes.
There was just enough time for Reign to don her hoodie, grab her key and jog down the flights of the stairs.
She refused to get on the elevator, at least they would have to work to catch her on the stairs.
Appearing in the front of the hotel, Reign found the black SUV, front tags reading 76YH92 just like Nia’s text indicated.
She slipped inside and settled into the plush leather seat.
She wasn’t na?ve to the fact Nia and Markus were making money illegally.
The drug game didn’t scare her. She’d ran her packs, made money off strippers and sex workers, made sure she knew how to clean it.
At twenty-six, she’d lived a life of a woman much older than her.
Being on her own since a teenager forced that out of her.
The issue came in when the reality of flying too close to the sun in the name of survival was just as dangerous as where she’d came from.
As the SUV made its way through the city, Reign took in the lights, the people moving about, lost in their own worlds.
The city lights faded into the background, over a bridge into the suburbs.
Brownstones and modest cars lined the streets.
Another thirteen minutes and the homes and cars went from modest to upper class.
To the naked eyes, Nia and Markus were successful business owners, nestled in plain sight.
The JoyRide double parked near a blacked-out BMW M8.
Reign gingerly wiggled out, unable to afford to look at the car let alone hit it and piss off whoever the owner was.
Reign thanked the driver and eased in front of the BMW, on to the sidewalk and up the stairs. The music and aroma of burnt butter met her at the black-framed, smoke-stained glass door. She tapped her knuckles against the door before sensing a presence behind her.
“You should know, Nia can’t cook shit.” Markus’ raspy voiced flowed out of his mouth and danced across her ears with the lingering smoke that trailed him.
Her hairs stood on their ends, not in danger but with intrigue and that was dangerous.
Her body tensed and her heart flooded in her ears.
The same thing it did earlier when she cut his hair.
She despised every inkling of it. She hated herself for attracting the same man over and over, especially just days after escaping.
This was too much, too soon, too unwanted. Without a verbal response, she slid away, stuffing her hands into the pocket of the hoodie. Markus’ glasses-covered eyes danced over her for a moment. That wasn’t on her bingo card. Him wearing glasses gave him a less menacing appearance.
His thick brows pinned. “Is that my hoodie?”
Reign curled her lip ready to tear it off her body and toss it to the ground.
He chuckled to himself knowing he wasn’t going to get an answer but chose to further taunt her. “Looks good on you.”
Reign’s lip curled more and her eyes narrowed. He punched in the code on Nia’s door and pushed the door open. Stepping back at a safe distance, he motioned her in. Reign glared at him before easing past him like he had a disease and she didn’t want to catch it.
“Nia, I found your mute on the stoop!”
Reign walked in and waited in the foyer. She had manners, that was the bare minimum. She just didn’t roam through someone’s house, invited or not.
Markus glanced at her again. “You got to be from the south or something. Come on, she’s in the kitchen.”
“No one invited your ass, Money,” Nia called from the kitchen, dumping out another pot of sauce. “That’s probably why I can’t make this shit right because you and your energy is fuckin’ this up.”
“You can’t make the sauce because you can’t fuckin’ cook. How you gonna invite us over for dinner and not have dinner?”
Nia looked up from the second failed attempt and directly at Reign. “You invited him?”
Reign frowned in detest. “No. I don’t even talk to him.”
“Damn, she can form a sentence, who knew?” Markus stated with a dumb smirk across his face.
Reign rolled her eyes and moved further away from him. “What are you trying to make?”
“Alfredo because it’s pasta night which is probably why his ass is here. Cyn is bringing marinara and meatballs. Like surely I can make alfredo, it’s the basic bitch recipe,” Nia huffed, tossing the pan in the sink. “I’m going to order pasta from Maruccio’s.”
Markus poured himself a drink and grunted. “Which is the same thing Cyn’s ass is doing. I could’ve stayed home for this.”
“You were supposed to stay home, Emilliano. Again, who invited you?” Nia questioned, her hands on her hips. “Girls’ night. Meaning we don’t want to see you niggas.”
“Cyn told me her dumbass nigga wanted to apologize for acting like a fuckin’ rookie,” Markus stated, making himself comfortable in the living room. The seat he chose gave him an unobstructed view of Reign.
She picked up on it and purposely moved to the other side of the kitchen. “I can make alfredo. I learned how to do it when I was like ten.”
“Oh, you think you’re better than me,” Nia joked, gladly moving out of her way. “I bought so much butter, heavy cream and cheese. I just knew I could do it.”
“You can, it just requires patience and not cooking on high,” Reign pointed out turning the tap down while Nia moved to get her the things she needed.
“So I figured Cyn coming over will give you two some space to get to know one another. She’s skeptical of new people.”
“Mmm,” Reign buzzed, pushing the sleeves of the hoodie up before remembering what Markus said. She pulled it off and rested it on a nearby chair. “I don’t think it’s new people. I think it’s just her. From the coffee shop to today, I think it’s just her personality and that’s okay.”
Nia couldn’t argue with her, she was right.
It was Cyn’s personality. She’d been high-strung ever since B had brought her around.
“She’s always been on edge. This life really isn’t one she’s used to.
Her family is from upstate. She came down here to take a nursing job, met B in the ER when he got shot and that was all she wrote. ”
Reign didn’t see a need to reply. She took the ingredients and started making the sauce and avoiding Markus’ eyes on her. It was consuming and aggravating. He was aggravating.
“Ayo!” Svyn sounded off, walking into the house with a bottle of wine in one hand and a baguette in the other. He strolled into Nia’s space as if it were his, Reign took them in for a second and smirked. “I got wine for the lady of the house and my contribution to dinner.”
Nia rolled her eyes. “Oh great, bread. What’d you get for the nigga of the house?”
Svyn cut his eyes down at her, his lips twitching with a comeback and Nia’s eyes dancing with the need to hear it. There was no denying that she and Markus were siblings, they shared the same need to aggravate people.
“You want to play that game with me? Again?” Svyn grumbled, making Nia almost bite her lip before huffing.
“Get your ass out of my kitchen.”
Svyn smirked and turned his attention to Reign. “What’s good, Reign?”
She offered him a subtle wave and a barely-there smile. “Hi.”
“Money, you owe me a band! I told you she talks,” Svyn called out, exiting the kitchen.
“Boy, fuck you!” Markus fired back. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Reign looked at Nia. “Is your brother…you know. Slow?”
Nia snorted in laughter. “You would think. No, he’s just aggravating as hell. But between you and I, I prefer this version over him stressed out.”
Reign gave a weary smile and muttered. “I prefer no version.”