24. Asha
Asha
Supreme brought it up over breakfast like it was nothing. He was eating eggs and scrolling through his phone, one hand on his coffee, when he said it.
"I been thinking about the Cee situation."
I kept my face neutral and took a sip of my own coffee. "What about it?"
"He says you been out of his sight a lot lately. New clients, home visits, walking to the store." Supreme set his phone down and looked at me. "Baby, I ain't questioning you. But there's people out there who would use you to get to me. You understand that?"
"Of course."
"So from now on, Cee's gonna come inside wherever you at. He'll sit in the waiting area, stay out your way, but he'll be there." Supreme picked up his fork again. "Just so I know you're safe."
"Okay, Premie." I gave him a small smile, the kind I could do without thinking. Inside I wanted to scream. Every time I got close to breathing, he tightened the leash another inch.
I squeezed back, finished my coffee, and went to the bathroom to get ready. I locked the door, sat on the toilet lid, and stared at the wall for a full minute.
The forty-minute window was gone. Cee inside the salon meant eyes on me the entire day.
No walking to the building on Kingston Ave, no getting in Omar's car, no driving to Bed-Stuy.
The one gap I'd found in Supreme's cage had just been sealed shut and he'd done it with a kiss on the forehead and a squeeze of my hand.
But it had to be about more than just his enemies.
Cee must have been feeding shit back to him, suspecting I was up to no good, and Supreme knew how to assert his position without scaring me.
The nice act, the kisses, the loving... all of that could fall away at any moment. The man was a cold hard killer.
I texted Omar from the bathroom: We have a problem. Cee's coming inside now. I can't get out.
His reply came fast: We'll figure it out.
I deleted both messages, flushed the toilet for show, and went to finish my makeup.
Cee drove me to the salon and for the first time, he got out of the car and came inside with me. I found him a chair in the waiting area near the door where he pulled out his phone, and settled in like he was planning to stay all day. And that was exactly what the hell he was planning on doing.
"You need anything, Miss Asha?" he asked.
"I'm good, Cee. Thank you."
My first client came in at ten. Mrs. Patterson, a regular, silk press and trim.
I put the cape on her, sectioned her hair, and got to work.
Cee sat fifteen feet away scrolling through his phone.
He didn't look up, didn't watch me, didn't interfere.
He was just there. Present. A pair of eyes that would report back to Supreme at the end of the day.
I got through four clients. Each time someone came in, Cee glanced up, clocked them, went back to his phone.
Each time someone left, he did the same thing.
He went to the bathroom once and only once did he step outside to take a call, but he was back in under two minutes.
He accepted the coffee I offered him and thanked me politely.
He was doing his job, nothing more and nothing less but his job was my prison.
Nene came by around noon. She walked in with her bag over her shoulder, saw Cee in the waiting area, and didn't miss a step. She came straight to me at the station, kissed my cheek, and sat down in the empty chair next to mine.
"Hey girl." She pulled out her phone. "You got a minute?"
"For you? Always."
We talked about nothing for a while. A client Nene had the day before who wanted a color she'd seen on TikTok that didn't exist in real life.
A man from Nene's building who kept leaving notes on her door asking her to dinner.
Normal conversation, normal volume, Cee ten feet away not interested in any of it because we were talking about hair, Nene's love life and nonsense.
Then Nene leaned closer and dropped her voice. "So what's the situation?"
"He's here inside with me now," I whispered back, glancing over my shoulder at him as he scrolled through his phone. "Supreme thinks someone might try to use me to get to him." I rolled my eyes so she could tell that I wasn't fully on board with that reason.
"Shit." Nene glanced at Cee without moving her head. "So how will you manage to get out and..."
"I don't know yet."
Nene was quiet for a second. Then she said, still low, still casual, "What if I come get you? Like for a walk. Quick gossip run. Twenty minutes, half hour max. He sees me, he knows me, it's just girl stuff. I bring you back before he starts wondering."
"You think he'd let me go?"
"Cee ain't your jailer, Ash. He's your driver. If your best friend comes to get you for a walk round the block, what's he gonna do? Follow you?"
She had a point. Cee was loyal but he wasn't aggressive. He reported what he saw and what he didn't see he didn't report. If Nene came to collect me for twenty minutes of girl talk, he'd probably stay in his chair and wait.
"When?" I asked.
"Tomorrow. I'll come by around one. You tell Cee we going for a quick walk, got some gossip I need to share. You can have you know who parked round the corner."
"I don't know. If this goes wrong..."
"It won't." She squeezed my arm. "Twenty minutes, maybe even thirty if we're lucky. In and out. I'll be waiting for you when you get back."
She stayed for another half hour talking at normal volume about the TikTok color and the man with the notes. Cee didn't look up once. When she left she waved at him on the way out and he nodded back.
I finished my last client, told Cee I was done, and he drove me home. Supreme was upstairs when I got in, relaxed, shoes off, scrolling through something on his laptop. He kissed me, asked about my day, told me about his. I smiled, listened, performed.
That night in bed he pulled me close and kissed my forehead. "You're safe, baby. You know that, right? I got you."
"I know, Premie."
He fell asleep with his arm across me. I lay there in the dark and thought about tomorrow. Omar's car round the corner. Twenty minutes. Nene waiting.
I thought about how many lies I was stacking on top of each other and how long the tower could stand before it collapsed.
Then I thought about Omar's hands on my body and his mouth on my neck and the way he'd said we'll figure it out like it was a promise and not a guess.
The tower would hold. It had to.