Chapter Two Forced Partners, Open Wounds
Makayla did not get in Jarvis Draven’s car.
She stood on the wet sidewalk outside her apartment building with the envelope crushed in her hand and the phone still glowing in her palm, reading the same message over and over.
Jarvis knows how to hide bodies. Ask him about Calia.
The words had been sent to scare her.
They worked.
Jarvis stared at the phone like he wanted to break it in half. The easy calm he wore like a tailored suit had cracked. His jaw was tight, eyes moving across the street, the windows, the parked cars, the shadowed mouth of the alley beside her building.
His driver came back from the corner with a grim look. “Nothing clear. Whoever took the picture moved fast.”
“Check the next block,” Jarvis said.
The driver nodded and walked away again.
Makayla slid her phone into her hoodie pocket. “I’m going upstairs.”
Jarvis turned his eyes back to her. “No, you’re leaving with me.”
She laughed once, sharp and humorless. “You got one more time to tell me what I’m doing.”
“Somebody is watching your building.”
“And you showing up here helped that how?”
“I didn’t bring them.”
“You brought yourself, and trouble seems real comfortable around you.”
Jarvis stepped closer. “This person knows your real name, your page, your family, and where you live. They just sent a picture of us from across the street. You think going upstairs makes you safe?”
Makayla looked up at the third-floor window where Auntie Zella’s curtains moved. Her aunt was watching. Of course she was.
“I have my aunt in there,” Makayla said. “I’m not leaving her.”
Jarvis followed her gaze. “Then bring her.”
Makayla cut her eyes at him. “To where? Your villain house?”
“My office.”
“That’s worse.”
“It has cameras, guards, and controlled access.”
“I don’t need to be controlled.”
“You need to be alive long enough to argue with me tomorrow.”
Makayla hated that her stomach tightened at the word alive. She hated that Jarvis said it plainly, like he had already accepted the level of danger while she was still trying to measure it.
A second message buzzed in her pocket.
She pulled her phone out.
Take the post down and I drop Amira first.
Makayla’s whole body went still.
Jarvis noticed. “What?”
She locked the screen.
“Makayla.”
“I said I’m going upstairs.”
She moved past him.
Jarvis caught her wrist, gentle but firm.
Makayla looked down at his hand, then back up at his face. “Let go.”
His fingers released her right away.
That surprised her.
For all his threats and black-car energy, he understood when to remove his hand. She filed that away, even while she stayed mad.
“My sister’s name came up,” she said.
Jarvis’s face changed in a small way. The anger became something colder. “Amira.”
“You already knew about her, remember?”
“I knew facts. I didn’t know someone else was using her.”
Makayla held his stare. “You dug into my family. You don’t get to act bothered now.”
“I dug because your page kept circling my businesses.”
“Congratulations. You found pain and printed it.”
A flicker moved across his eyes. It looked close to guilt, but Makayla had no room to give him soft names.
She turned and headed inside.
This time Jarvis followed without touching her.
The lobby smelled like rain, old tile, and the sour mop water the building manager used every night. Makayla marched to the stairwell, shoes squeaking. Jarvis followed with quiet steps that made her more aware of him than noise would have.
At the second-floor landing, she stopped and turned.
“Do you always follow women into buildings?”
“Only the ones who burn my life down before midnight.”
“I ain’t burn your life down.”
“You lit the match.”
“And somebody handed it to me.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
Makayla wanted to curse him out, but the second message sat heavy in her mind.
I drop Amira first.
Amira had spent years trying to breathe without old pain sitting on her chest. She had moved to a small town outside Morrow Bay, changed jobs, changed her hair, changed her number twice. Makayla had sworn to protect her peace.
Now her page, the very thing built from Amira’s pain, had dragged Amira back into danger.
That shame hit different.
By the time Makayla reached her apartment, Auntie Zella had the door open with a rolling pin in one hand and her robe tied tight.
Jarvis looked at the rolling pin.
Zella looked him up and down. “You the one threatening my niece?”
Jarvis did not blink. “I’m the one telling her she’s in danger.”
“That ain’t what I asked you.”
Makayla slipped past her aunt into the apartment. “Auntie, pack a small bag.”
Zella’s eyes stayed on Jarvis. “Where we going?”
“His office.”
Zella’s eyebrows lifted. “The devil got office hours?”
Jarvis’s mouth twitched.
Makayla pointed at him. “Don’t smile.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You were thinking about it.”
Zella stepped back enough to let Jarvis stand in the doorway. She still held the rolling pin like she knew exactly which part of his skull she would aim for.
Makayla went straight to her bedroom and grabbed her laptop, charger, a sweater, and the small metal box from under her bed. Her hands shook when she reached for the box, so she paused and clenched them.
No.
She refused to fall apart in front of Jarvis Draven.
She carried everything into the living room, where Zella had changed into jeans and a long cardigan. Jarvis stood near the door, eyes scanning the room with that same controlled sharpness.
He noticed everything.
The extra lock on the window.
The baseball bat behind the umbrella stand.
The framed photo of Makayla and Amira on the bookshelf.
His gaze lingered on that photo a second too long.
Makayla snapped, “Don’t.”
He looked back at her. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Your eyes did.”
Zella placed her bag over her shoulder. “My niece read everybody for a living. You gon’ have to blink around her.”
Jarvis looked at Zella. “Yes, ma’am.”
Makayla almost rolled her eyes out loud. “Now he got manners.”
“I had them before you posted lies about me.”
Zella looked at Makayla.
Makayla looked away.
That small movement told her aunt enough.
Zella’s face softened, but she said nothing. Makayla was grateful for that. Pity would have cut worse than judgment.
Jarvis led them downstairs through the back exit instead of the front. His driver had moved the black car behind the building. Another SUV waited at the mouth of the alley with two men inside.
Makayla stopped.
Jarvis looked back. “What now?”
“You brought a convoy?”
“I brought security.”
“For me or from me?”
“For both.”
Auntie Zella leaned close to Makayla and whispered, loud enough for Jarvis to hear, “He is fine, but I still don’t trust him.”
Makayla whispered back, “Auntie.”
Jarvis opened the rear door. “I heard that.”
Zella climbed in first. “Good. Keep your behavior cute.”
Makayla followed, holding her laptop bag close.
Jarvis got in beside her.
She immediately stiffened. “You couldn’t sit up front?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if somebody shoots through the side window, I’d rather be between you and the glass.”
The car went quiet.
Makayla stared at him.
Jarvis looked ahead, face unreadable, like he had said something as normal as pass the salt.
Zella’s eyes moved between them. “Well.”
“Don’t,” Makayla said.
“I ain’t said nothing.”
“You breathed like you had a comment.”
“I always got a comment. I’m choosing God right now.”
Jarvis’s driver pulled into the street.
Morrow Bay moved past the tinted windows in wet flashes. Closed corner stores. Neon signs. A woman under a bus stop awning holding her heels in one hand. A man biking through puddles with a trash bag over his jacket. The city looked softer in rain, but Makayla knew better.
Morrow Bay could smile with gold teeth while reaching for your pockets.
Her phone buzzed the whole ride.
She ignored it until Jarvis said, “Read them.”
“No.”
“Read them.”
“I said no.”
“If they’re from the person watching you, we need them.”
Makayla cut him a look. “We?”
“Yes.”
“You keep using that word like we in this together.”
“We are.”
“We are forced.”
“Most useful things are.”
Makayla stared at him, then pulled out her phone.
There were messages from followers, blogs, strangers, and people who wanted to pile onto Jarvis while his name was hot. Some praised her. Some threatened her. Some begged for more details. Some asked if she had proof the woman was alive.
Then there were three from the unknown number.
He looks calm because he’s done this before.
Calia found out the hard way.
You’re next if you trust him.
Makayla turned the screen toward Jarvis.
He read them without taking the phone from her hand.
His face gave nothing away, but the air around him changed.
“Who is Calia?” Makayla asked.
Jarvis looked out the window. “Former partner.”
“That’s cute. Try the real answer.”
Zella made a small sound. “Makayla.”
“No, Auntie. He came into my life like a shadow with threats and envelopes. Somebody keeps sending me her name. I want to know why.”
Jarvis stayed quiet for long enough to irritate her.
Makayla leaned toward him. “Did you hurt her?”
His eyes came back to hers. “No.”
“Did you ruin her?”
“Yes.”
That honesty again.
It crawled under her skin.
“What did she do?” Makayla asked.
“She stole from me.”
“That’s it?”
“That was enough.”
“What happened to her?”
“She lost access to my businesses, my money, my rooms, and my protection.”
Makayla narrowed her eyes. “Your protection?”
“In Morrow Bay, access keeps people fed. Protection keeps them alive.”
“That sounds like something men say when they want to feel like kings.”
Jarvis gave her a calm look. “Kings die fast in cities like this. I prefer ownership.”
Makayla shook her head. “You hear yourself?”
“Every word.”
“That’s the problem.”
Zella leaned back in the seat. “Lord, this car full of stubborn.”
The Black Meridian sat on the edge of downtown, where old brick warehouses had been turned into expensive spaces with soft lights and private doors. Makayla had seen pictures of the lounge plenty of times, but in person it looked colder. Taller. Like a building with secrets in the walls.