CHAPTER 5
Eleven Months and Two Days
“We have to go!” Nesha screamed again.
I stared down at Dre’s lifeless body.
Blood spread beneath him, filling the cracks in the basketball court. Less than fifteen minutes ago, I had been ready to kill him myself.
Now I wished he had lived long enough to tell me the truth.
A porch light came on across the street.
Then another.
“We can’t leave him like this,” I said.
“The fuck you mean? We can’t take him with us!”
“He has my blood on him.”
“What?”
“When I hit him with the gun. His blood got on my hand.”
“That’s his blood, Key!”
“My fingerprints are on his clothes. My car is sitting right there. People heard those shots.”
A curtain moved inside one of the houses.
Nesha grabbed my arm.
“If the police catch us standing over this man’s body, none of that is gonna matter.”
She was right.
I took Dre’s phone and ran toward my car.
Nesha jumped into the passenger seat before I had the engine started. I backed over the curb, threw the car into drive, and sped away.
A police siren sounded in the distance.
“Slow down,” Nesha said.
“First you tell me to hurry, now you telling me to slow down.”
“Because you’re driving like we just killed somebody!”
“We didn’t kill him.”
“But the police don’t know that.”
I forced myself to ease off the gas.
My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold the steering wheel. Dre’s blood covered my fingers and part of my sleeve.
Nesha reached into the glove compartment, grabbed a handful of napkins, and gave them to me.
“You need to get rid of that shirt.”
“I need to get to Shay.”
“You need to think.”
“I am thinking.”
“No, you’re angry.”
“Dre texted her number, and two minutes later somebody pulled up shooting.”
“You don’t know if Shay was in that car.”
“She told him to keep me there.”
“You saw a text from her number. That doesn’t mean she sent it.”
I glanced at Nesha.
“Whose side are you on?”
“Yours. That’s why I’m trying to stop you from doing something you can’t take back.”
I looked down at Dre’s phone resting in my lap.
The message was still open.
GOOD. KEEP HER THERE UNTIL WE ARRIVE.
Shay’s number.
Shay’s words.
At least, they looked like her words.
“Call her,” Nesha said.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because if she set me up, I don’t want her knowing I’m coming.”
“And if she didn’t?”
I didn’t answer.
Nesha leaned her head against the seat.
“This shit is crazy.”
“You can get out.”
“And go where? Back to the store where people are taking pictures through the window? Or to Tasha’s house, where your kids are?”
The mention of my children made me grab my phone.
I had three missed calls from Tasha.
My heart dropped.
I called her back immediately.
“Are the kids okay?”
“Where the hell are you?” she asked.
“Are they okay?”
“Yes, they’re fine. But a black truck just drove past my house for the third time.”
“Get them away from the windows.”
“They’re already in the basement.”
“Did anybody get out?”
“No.”
“Keep every door locked. I’m on my way.”
“What happened with Dre?”
“I’ll explain when I get there.”
“Keyshia—”
I hung up.
I couldn’t go to Shay’s house while somebody was watching my kids. Whatever happened next, I needed to move Jayce and Amaya somewhere safe first.
But where?
If the people behind this knew my store, my house, and Tasha’s address, they probably knew every place I could take them.
My phone rang again.
This time, it was Shay.
I stared at her name on the screen.
“Answer it,” Nesha whispered.
I pressed the button but didn’t speak.
“Key?” Shay said. “Hello?”
I kept quiet.
“Keyshia, I know you hear me.”
“What do you want?”
“Why the fuck you answering the phone like that?”
“Where are you?”
“At home, trying to put these gift bags together. Why?”
“You alone?”
“Yes.”
“You sure?”
“What kind of question is that?”
I looked down at Dre’s phone.
“Where were you twenty minutes ago?”
“Right here.”
“Who can prove it?”
“Key, what the hell is wrong with you?”
“Answer me.”
“My neighbor was over here helping me decorate. She just left.”
“What’s her name?”
“You know Miss Yolanda.”
Miss Yolanda had lived next door to Shay since we were teenagers. She knew everything that happened on that street because she spent most of her day looking through the blinds.
“Put her on the phone.”
“She went home.”
“Go get her.”
Shay went quiet.
“Are you in trouble?”
“I asked you to do something.”
“And I asked if you were in trouble.”
“Go get Miss Yolanda.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because she didn’t leave through the front.”
I gripped the steering wheel.
“What does that mean?”
Another pause.
“She’s still here.”
Nesha turned toward me.
I put the call on speaker.
“Why did you lie?” I asked.
“Because she told me to.”
A woman spoke in the background, but I couldn’t make out the words.
“Who’s with you, Shay?”
“Nobody.”
“You just said Miss Yolanda was there.”
“I made that up.”
“Which lie am I supposed to believe?”
“Key, don’t come over here.”
My blood went cold.
“Why not?”
“Just stay away from my house.”
“Is somebody making you say this?”
The line went silent.
Then I heard Shay breathing differently.
Short.
Shallow.
Scared.
“Shay, say ‘birthday cake’ if somebody is in that house with you.”
Nothing.
“Shay.”
Her voice came back barely above a whisper.
“Chocolate or vanilla?”
She was asking what kind of birthday cake she should buy.
But Shay hated vanilla cake.
Always had.
Someone was listening.
“Get down!” I shouted into the phone.
A loud crash came through the speaker.
Shay screamed.
The call disconnected.
I pressed harder on the gas.
“We’re going to her house?” Nesha asked.
“Yes.”
“What about your kids?”
“If they kill Shay, I might never find out who’s after them.”
I reached under my seat and pulled out my second gun.
Nesha stared at it.
“How many guns do you have in this car?”
“Not enough.”
???
Shay lived less than ten minutes from Tasha, but I made it there in six.
Her front door was open.
Balloons tied to the porch railing moved in the wind. A gold birthday banner hung crooked above the entrance.
There were no cars in the driveway except Shay’s.
I parked two houses down.
“Stay here,” I told Nesha.
“You said that last time, and somebody ended up dead.”
“Then listen this time.”
I got out with the gun hidden against my thigh.
Shay’s living room looked untouched. Gift bags covered the couch, liquor bottles lined the kitchen counter, and a pile of decorations sat on the floor.
“Shay?” I called.
No answer.
A balloon popped somewhere in the house.
I raised my gun.
“Shay!”
A soft banging sound came from the basement.
I followed it to the kitchen, where the basement door stood slightly open.
The light below was off.
I pushed the door with the barrel of my gun.
“Who’s down there?”
The banging became louder.
I stepped onto the first stair.
Then the second.
At the bottom, I found Shay tied to a chair with duct tape across her mouth. Blood ran from a cut above her eyebrow.
I rushed toward her and ripped the tape away.
She gasped for air.
“Who did this?”
“Behind you!”
I spun around.
A man charged from the darkness.
I fired.
The bullet hit him in the shoulder, but his body still slammed into mine. The gun flew from my hand as we crashed against the floor.
He wrapped both hands around my throat.
I clawed at his face, but he was too strong.
A second gunshot filled the basement.
The man’s body went limp.
I pushed him off me.
Nesha stood at the bottom of the stairs holding my other gun.
Smoke drifted from the barrel.
“I told you to stay in the car,” I coughed.
“And I told you that shit didn’t work last time.”
The man groaned.
He was still alive.
The bullet had struck him in the side.
I grabbed my gun from the floor and pressed it against his forehead.
“Who sent you?”
He smiled despite the blood running from his mouth.
“You already know.”
“Lawson?”
His smile widened.
“Lawson is the least of your problems.”
I hit him with the gun.
“Who sent you?”
“You think this is about drugs?”
“What is it about?”
“Your mother stole something that didn’t belong to her.”
“What did she steal?”
“An empire.”
I looked at Shay.
Tears streamed down her face.
“You know something about this?” I asked.
She shook her head quickly.
The man laughed.
“She knows more than you think.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Shay screamed.
My eyes moved between them.
“How do you know him?”
“I don’t.”
He laughed again.
“You really gonna lie to your favorite cousin?”
Shay lowered her head.
Eleven months and two days.
That was the difference between our birthdays.
Our mothers had raised us together. We wore matching outfits, attended the same schools, and shared everything from birthday cakes to ass-whippings.
She was the first person I called when I found out I was pregnant with Jayce.
The first person at the hospital when Amaya was born.
The one person outside my sister who knew every secret I had.
Or so I thought.
“Tell me the truth,” I said.
Shay lifted her eyes.
“I’ve known your mother was alive for two years.”
The room became completely still.
I lowered the gun.
“What?”
“I found out by accident.”
“How?”
“She came to see me.”
My chest tightened.
“My mother came to your house?”
“No. She found me in Atlanta.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“She made me promise.”
“You looked me in my face for two years knowing my mother was alive?”
“She said telling you would put you and the kids in danger.”
“They’re already in danger!”
“I didn’t know this would happen!”
I moved toward her so quickly that the chair scraped backward.
Nesha stepped between us.
“Key, calm down.”
“Get out of my way.”
“She’s tied to a chair!”
“She still got a mouth. She could’ve told me.”
“I wanted to,” Shay cried. “I tried so many times.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because your mother showed me what happened to the last person who tried to find her.”
Shay’s eyes shifted toward the wounded man.
“He worked for Detective Lawson,” she continued. “His name is Malcolm. He’s been following me for months.”
Malcolm smiled.
“Smart girl.”
“You sent Dre that message?” I asked her.
“No.”
“It came from your number.”
“They took my phone this morning and brought it back before you called. I thought they were checking my messages.”
“They cloned it,” Nesha said.
Malcolm laughed.
“Now you’re catching up.”
I pointed the gun at him again.
“Where is my mother?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Then you’re no use to me.”
I placed my finger against the trigger.
His smile disappeared.
“Wait.”
“I’m listening.”
“Your mother is coming back to Louisville.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“Why?”
“To stop the delivery.”
“What delivery?”
“The bag you took from the storage unit.”
My stomach tightened.
“How does she know I have it?”
“Because she left it for you.”
I stared at him.
The money.
The cocaine.
The folder.
My mother had placed all of it inside that unit.
“She threatened my children?”
“No. That was us.”
I pressed the barrel harder against his forehead.
“Give me one reason not to kill you.”
“Because if I don’t check in within five minutes, they raid your house.”
I froze.
“What?”
“That bag is sitting in your house, isn’t it?”
He already knew the answer.
“You were never supposed to make the delivery,” Malcolm said. “The police are waiting for you to go back and touch it.”
My mind raced.
I had carried the bag from the storage unit.
My fingerprints were all over it.
The cocaine alone was enough to put me away for years.
“You’re lying.”
“Call your neighbor.”
I pulled out my phone and dialed the woman who lived across the street from me.
She answered after three rings.
“Hello?”
“Miss Janice, it’s Keyshia. Do you see anybody near my house?”
Her blinds moved in my mind before she even answered.
“There’s been a car parked down the street for about an hour.”
“What kind of car?”
“A dark-blue Charger. Two men are sitting inside.”
Lawson drove a dark-blue Charger.
“Thank you.”
I hung up.
Malcolm smiled.
“The clock is ticking.”
I looked at Shay.
“If you knew my mother was coming tonight, why were you still planning that birthday dinner?”
“Because the party was supposed to be our cover. She was coming to meet me there.”
“Where?”
“Club Blu.”
“At what time?”
“Ten.”
The burner phone inside my purse vibrated.
I pulled it out.
TOMORROW. 7:00 P.M.
The delivery instructions hadn’t changed.
That meant Malcolm was lying about something.
Maybe everything.
I leaned close to him.
“You said the police are about to raid my house.”
“They are.”
“Then why does this phone say the delivery is tomorrow?”
For the first time, fear appeared in his eyes.
Not because I had caught him lying.
Because he hadn’t known about the message.
“That phone isn’t ours,” he said.
“Then whose is it?”
Before he could answer, a shot exploded through the basement window.
Malcolm’s head snapped backward.
Blood splattered across my face.
Shay screamed.
“Get down!” Nesha shouted.
More bullets tore through the window.
We dropped to the floor as glass and concrete rained over us.
Somebody had killed Malcolm before he could tell me the truth.
And they were still shooting.
I crawled toward Shay and cut through the tape around her wrists with a broken piece of glass.
“Who else knew you were meeting my mother?” I asked.
“Nobody!”
“Somebody knew!”
The gunfire suddenly stopped.
Tires screeched outside.
Nesha ran upstairs and looked through the front window.
“They’re gone!”
I helped Shay to her feet.
My phone rang.
Tasha.
I answered while wiping Malcolm’s blood from my face.
“Keyshia,” she whispered.
Something in her voice made my stomach drop.
“What happened?”
“There are police outside your house.”
“How many?”
“All of them.”
I closed my eyes.
The raid had started early.
Then she said the words that turned my fear into panic.
“And Jayce is gone.”