Chapter 20 Honey #2
"Who was that?" Lynx asked as soon as I stepped into the room.
"Work," I replied shortly, tossing my robe in his direction.
"Obviously," he said, catching it. "But where you headed?"
"I gotta meet a potential client."
"This late?"
Thankfully, I was already in my closet, where he couldn't see me roll my eyes. I slipped on a pair of panties and a sports bra, then pulled on some leggings.
"Street niggas leave out in the middle of the night all the time."
"But you ain't a street nigga," he shot back.
"No," I told him calmly, "but I am a bitch with business to handle."
"So it's fuck everything we were just talking about?"
I looked at Lynx and saw the ghost of everything we could've been.
"Don't put shit on me I didn't say. I'm all for continuing the conversation, but right now I have to go."
I pulled my hoodie over my head and stepped toward Lynx for a quick kiss. He rose from my bed, his hand catching my long, honey blonde braids. My head tipped back gently as his gaze followed mine.
"We're gonna finish this when you get back."
"Okay."
Lynx pecked my lips, then took my hand and walked me to the front door. From the doorway, he watched me as I stepped onto the elevator. I flashed him a smile as the doors slid shut, then let out a frustrated sigh. Finding love shouldn't have been this complicated.
When the elevator doors opened, I stepped off like the boss bitch I'd become.
There was no time to sulk over my feelings about Lynx because they no longer mattered.
Personal problems couldn't exist during business hours, and since I didn't work a normal nine-to-five, business held precedence over my feelings whenever my services were requested.
I walked down the block with my hands tucked in my pockets until a blacked-out car flashed its lights three times. I headed toward it, and as I got closer, the passenger window rolled down.
"Get in," Honor dryly said.
Rolling my eyes, I opened the door and dropped into the seat.
Out of all the Gravehart men, Honor was the one I preferred never to speak to.
He was too hard to read. Most men, even the stoic ones, had a tell or something that made them approachable.
Honor didn't. No matter the situation, he stayed rigid and distant.
Honor could stand right next to you and still feel miles out of your reach.
The only time he showed a trace of inflection was when Navy was around, and even then, whatever emotion surfaced was fleeting.
It never lingered long enough to feel real or long enough to convince you it wasn't a calculated performance.
A man like that couldn't be seduced or controlled.
Men like Honor didn't thrive on a woman's need to fulfill their desire.
They didn't need women. They needed a woman.
One who tasted like survival and sauntered like a threat to his sanity.
And once a man like that found her, leaving him became damn near impossible.
Because he'd give his life before watching what he needed to survive walk away.
"I need your help." His stoned voice cracked the silence looming between us. Allowing him to lead the conversation was my first lesson in dealing with men. Letting them believe they dictated the flow of conversation made them easier to manage.
Never rush them. Never challenge them head-on. Listen. Ask the right questions. Nod.
That was the golden formula because control never came from force.
"Who gave you my business number?"
"I'm resourceful."
"I can see that." Normally, I would've said more to stroke his ego and let him know the resourceful line was well played. But Honor wasn't a mark, or someone who needed to be controlled. He was the boyfriend of a friend who probably didn't even know I was meeting with him.
"Does Navy know you're here?"
"No. This is business. I only tell her what she needs to know when she needs to know it."
"Okay." I nodded and swallowed the twinge of nervousness, trying to settle in. "My time costs. My initial meeting fee is—"
Honor reached into the glove compartment, and my body froze out of fear that I overstepped.
"Relax."
He pulled out two stacks of old bills wrapped in rubber bands.
"Twenty grand in the denominations of fives, tens, and twenties. We good?"
Taking the money, I snatched off the rubber bands and started counting.
"You don't trust me?" he asked.
"Nothing personal. I don't trust most men."
I thumbed through the first stack, then the second. "What do you need from me?"
"To keep an eye on Lynx," he said, staring blankly through the windshield.
"Why?"
"Does the reason matter?" His gaze flicked toward me. "Something feels off about that hit in Ember Falls. You were with him when he got the call, right?"
"Yeah."
"Do you know who made the call?"
The answer was simple. Rize called Lynx about what happened but revealing that felt like the wrong move. I didn't know where Lynx and I stood since he wasn't letting up about my job, but I didn't want to fuck up my chance at something real by snitching him out to Honor.
"Look," Honor said, as if he read the hesitation on my face. "I'm not asking you to snake that nigga."
"Then what are you asking, because it sounds like you want me to snitch on my man."
"I'm asking you to look out for the people you love by watching the nigga you like."
"Meaning?"
"If I'm right about what I'm feeling, then Lynx might not be down for us like he claims."
I did my best to stay neutral, but what he was asking would blur the lines between personal and business.
"How can you trust I won't tell him everything?"
"'Cause you didn't tell me Rize was the one who called Lynx," he said. "It's rare that I ask a question I don't already know the answer to."
I hesitated. "Okay, but—"
"No buts, either you're gonna look out for Chosyn and River, or you're not."
"What does this have to do with them?" Panic slipped in, and the moment it did, I lost control of the conversation.
"Nothing directly but the men they love deal with Lynx. If this nigga is moving foul, they're gon' be hit first."
"Then why not tell them what's going on?"
"You know the answer to that. Human behavior is predictable. Crown will move before we know for sure, and if he's wrong, that's blood I'ma have to clean up."
I grabbed the door handle.
"Give me a few days. I'll get back to you."
"Text that number when you decide."
"Okay."
I tucked the money into my hoodie and headed back to my building. The elevator ride up had my fingers itching to text the group chat, but business and personal couldn't intermingle any more than it already had.
The doors slid open, and Lynx was standing there.
"What—"
"Not out here," I snapped, pushing past him.
Inside my apartment, I kicked off my sneakers and headed straight for my room, peeling off my clothes.
"The fuck you get this money from?" Lynx asked, lifting the banded cash I placed on my dresser.
"Having a conversation with me costs. That's my fee."
"For a conversation, you get twenty bands?"
"I'm good at what I do." I shrugged.
"Damn," he whistled. "I see why you don't wanna give this shit up. If I were making twenty bands off a conversation, I'd—"
"Why were you waiting at the elevator?" I clipped him short. The way his eyes lit up at the money didn't sit right with me. He was a little too interested in my shit.
"I wanted to make sure you were good. I saw you walk back into the building, and you seemed a little shook."
"You were watching me?" I frowned, sliding my arms into my robe.
"I glanced out the window and saw you," he answered. "Wassup, Honey? We were good until you went downstairs. Who'd you meet with?"
"We're still good. I'm just not used to a man being in my business," I said, intentionally ignoring his question.
"I'm not in your business. I'm trying to look out for you."
"And I appreciate that, but I can handle myself." I smiled.
Lynx took it as an invitation and invaded my space. His hands closed around my waist, pulling me into him.
"I love that you can," he murmured, "but I'd love to be the nigga doing it for you."
His lips brushed mine, and my heart betrayed me, fluttering.
"Who did you meet with?"
The fluttering stopped. Cocking a brow, I asked, "Why?"
"You told me your work is in Philly. Why is someone coming out here to meet with you?"
"Because I'm that fucking good."
I moved out of Lynx's arms and sat on my bed.
"Lynx, say what you need to say. Beating around the bush is gonna make me ask you to leave."
"Aye, chill out. I told you, Crown and 'em got a lot of shit happening. I'm just making sure no one's trying slick shit."
I softened my tone to keep from letting what I knew slip out.
"The everyday nigga couldn't get my business number, Lynx," I mumbled. "I'm good, okay. I need you to trust that."
"I do."
"Good. I'm going to use the bathroom. When I come out, we can watch a movie or something. Cool?"
"Yeah, that's straight."
I gave him a quick kiss, then walked to the bathroom, grabbing my business phone on the way. I closed the door behind me and sat on the toilet, scrolling to the last number that had called.
Me
I'm in.
Unknown
What convinced you?
Me
A gut feeling. I assume you know my rate.
Unknown
I do. This stays between us.
Me
Fine.
After sending the last message, I deleted the thread and powered off my phone.
Twice, Lynx hinted at things with the Gravehart men being chaotic when nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
Wolfe just got married and would welcome a child soon, and Crown was chasing behind River.
The only real drama was the hit in Ember Hills.
Either Lynx was exaggerating to get his way with me, or he knew something was coming. Something that would shake things up for Wolfe, Crown, and Honor. The part of me that yearned for love wanted to believe it was the former but, my gut was screaming it was the latter.