22. Echo
Echo
Joe Goldberg was a wild boy.
I sat stretched across the sectional, one arm draped over the back cushion, watching Netflix.
“Nah, Joe, you can’t put that damn girl in a cage. Fuck wrong with you, my boy?” I laughed, shaking my head as another bad decision unfolded on screen.
My phone rang.
Barely taking my eyes off the TV, I hit the speaker button.
“Talk.”
“Aye, boss. I spotted Juliet in the bookstore parking lot a little while ago. She looked kind of frantic.”
Immediately, I sat up.
“Let me tell you two ways in which you got me fucked up. Number one, you said a little while ago, which means you reported back late. Number two, if she looked frantic, why the fuck didn’t you approach the situation? You was scared, nigga?”
By now, I was standing.
Seething.
“She was with her usual two friends—”
“So, motherfucker!”
I cut him off with a sound so primal the TV paused itself.
“Boss, chill. Respectfully,” his voice shook. “They ended up hugging and shit. Didn’t look like danger.”
I rubbed my jaw.
“You said it didn’t look like danger, but was it?”
“Boss, no. She drove away safely.”
“Then, nigga, you got three point five seconds to tell me why you called me. One of my homeboys just made a terrible decision involving one of his hoes, and I need to see how this shit plays out.”
“Well...” He hesitated.
That hesitation alone irritated me.
“The bookstore lights were still on, so I walked over there. Saw a little honey inside. Thought I’d shoot my shot.”
“Nigga, it sounds like you need to be talking to your father or the free clinic. Get to the point.”
“Boss, chill,” he laughed. “As soon as she saw me, she started throwing books at me and screaming.”
I chuckled.
“You an ugly motherfucker, Carter. I can’t help with that.”
“Boss,” he laughed, “she was screaming for help. Saying the Everettes were trying to kill her.”
The smile immediately left my face.
“What?”
“Yeah. Shorty was losing her mind.”
“Who is this broad?”
As he continued talking, another notification appeared on my phone. It was a text from Optimus.
Normally, I would’ve ignored it until the call ended, but something made me look.
The text contained only three words. Three coded words that only my family knew. Three coded words capable of destroying my world.
Optimus: The Baby Knows.
My phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor.
“What the fuck you mean she knows?”
The truck flew down the road while Optimus drove.
“You telling me I’m supposed to believe some little college broad named Ava told Juliet her mother’s name was Shannon and her daddy was that professor nigga?”
“That’s the story I got, my nigga.”
“So why JuJu ain’t call me? This shit gotta be flawed.”
Optimus glanced over.
“You hear some heart-wrenching shit about the people that mean the most to you in front of your friends, you thinking logical enough to call home?”
I nodded.
He had a point.
“And how you know all this? The only thing Carter told me was the girl freaked out, yelling my family name and shit. We assumed she got into a fight with Juliet and got scared of the repercussions.”
Optimus laughed.
“I been told you, old man, them niggas you hired is weak. Lucky for you, through all the sheep, you got one lion that love your ugly ass. My people always been one step behind yours. I just never told you.”
He pointed at his chest.
“You see, Echo, you had to learn the streets. I lived it. Long as my head warm, you and my goddaughter always protected.”
Respect.
Without hesitation, I reached over and dapped him up.
“Did you track her?” he asked.
“Yeah. Her Jeep says she’s at Flip’d, but her phone says she’s at Psalm’s crib.”
“Gimme the address.”
“Nah. Flip’d is closer. Let’s just pull up and see if she’s in there,” I suggested.
“Her homegirl was driving the Jeep. More than likely she dropped baby girl off at Psalm’s and then took the whip to Flip’d with the other homeboy.”
“Bet. But I’m sending people to the spot anyway.”
Silence settled over the truck.
“You strapped?” I asked.
Optimus smirked.
“I got us both covered. But honestly, I don’t think it’s needed. I ran a check. Ain’t nobody over there except Psalm and his cousin. His parents outta town.”
My stomach tightened.
“Cousin?”
“Some nigga named Alonse Robertson.”
Optimus let the name roll off his tongue without a care in the world, but the shit made my body turn cold.
It wasn't fear, it was something else. More like attention grabbing.
The feeling sat with me for a few seconds and as I attempted to shake it off, I heard a soft whisper.
A voice so familiar, it made my chest tighten.
It's him.
My head snapped toward the back seat, hoping to see her sitting there. Hoping for something I knew wasn't possible. But the seat was empty.
Of course it was. I was tweaking.
“Bro, you good?” Optimus asked. “We gonna find her. Trust me, she safe.”
I swallowed hard.
“What’s the cousin’s name again?”
“Alonse.”
The cold returned. So did the whisper.
It’s him.
“Spell it,” I said, my voice deep and uneasy.
“What?”
“Spell the name out loud.”
Optimus frowned but complied.
“A... L... O... N... S... E.”
With every letter, it felt like we were playing a twisted game of Wheel of Fortune.
When he finished, silence once again filled the truck. And I was sure this time my brother from another mother felt that same cold, attention-grabbing energy I felt. We looked at each other, and it was almost as if we both had the same game envisioned in our minds.
The realization hit at the exact same moment.
“Sloane.”
The name left both our mouths together.