27. Omar
Omar
Asha called me from the bathroom. I was parked outside APEX, the engine still running, Devon's latest report open on my phone. Her name came up on the screen and I answered before the second ring.
"He caught me." Her voice was flat, emptied out. "I packed a bag. Made it half a block. His people were waiting."
I gripped the steering wheel with my free hand. "Did he hurt you?"
"He didn't touch me. He put me in the car, drove me home, and unpacked my bag." She paused. "He put everything back where it was, Omar. Every piece of clothing, every toiletry. Folded it all up and put it back in the drawers like I'd never tried to leave."
I listened to her breathe. The engine hummed. Traffic passed on the street outside APEX.
"He kissed my forehead after," she continued. "Told me everything was back where it belongs. Including me."
"Where is he now?"
"Living room. Watching TV like nothing happened."
"Asha."
"Yeah?"
"I'm getting you out of there. Properly this time. With people behind it."
She was quiet for a long moment. "How?"
"Let me handle that. Just sit tight and don't try anything else on your own. Can you do that?"
"Yeah." Her voice was small but steady. "Yeah, I can do that."
"I'll text you when it's set up."
"Okay."
I hung up, turned off the engine, and sat in the car for five minutes working through what I was about to do.
Telling Kadeem about Asha meant telling him everything.
The affair, the meetings, the texts, the sex in the apartment and the back of my car.
It meant admitting I'd been running a personal operation inside Baptiste territory without authorization, fucking the girlfriend of the man we were building a case against, and making decisions with my dick that could compromise everything Devon had been building for months.
Kadeem was going to be furious. But Kadeem was also my brother, and he'd been where I was. Shanay had been inside a dangerous situation herself, and Kadeem had done whatever it took to get her out. He'd understand. He might not like it, but he'd understand.
I drove to his house. Shanay let me in, took one look at my face, and went back upstairs without asking questions. She'd been around Baptiste business long enough to read the energy.
Kadeem was in the office. I sat down across from him and told him everything.
He listened without interrupting. His face didn't change while I talked.
I told him about seeing Asha at the warehouse meeting, about finding her on Nostrand, about the park, the coffee shop, the kisses, the apartment.
I told him about the car sex behind the warehouse, the conversations about Ray, the connect named Len.
I told him she'd tried to run. Supreme caught her, unpacked her bag.
When I finished Kadeem was quiet for a long time. He leaned back in his chair, his hands folded across his stomach, his eyes on the ceiling.
"How long?" he asked.
"Since the warehouse meeting."
"And you been seeing her the whole time without telling me."
"Yeah."
"While she's living with a man connected to the operation we're investigating."
"Yeah."
Kadeem brought his eyes down from the ceiling and looked at me. "Is this personal or is this business?"
"Both."
He nodded slowly. "Then we do this right. No more sneaking around, no more car sex behind our own warehouse, no more solo shit that puts her and us at risk." He leaned forward. "If she's got intel on Supreme's operation, that changes things. But we bring her in proper. Protected. With a plan."
"Agreed."
"Get Stone. Tonight. I want him at this table before we move on anything."
I called Stone from Kadeem's office. He picked up on the second ring, said he'd be there within the hour.
Stone arrived at seven-thirty. Jacket on, glasses in his breast pocket, the version of himself that meant business. He shook Kadeem's hand, nodded at me, and sat down at the kitchen table. Shanay had left coffee and then disappeared upstairs.
I laid it out for him. Asha's situation with Supreme, the level of control, Cee as her driver and handler, the escape attempt, Supreme's response.
I kept the personal details minimal because Stone didn't need to know about the apartment or the back seat.
He needed to know she was inside Supreme's operation, she had access to information we needed, and she was willing to share it if we could get her out safely.
Stone listened carefully, his fingers steepled under his chin. When I finished he asked three questions.
"How long has she been inside Supreme's household?"
"Three years. He kept her in Atlanta for most of it, brought her back to Brooklyn recently."
"Does she have access to financial records or just operational knowledge?"
"Both. She's been in his home, at his meetings, around his people. She knows names, schedules, locations."
Stone nodded. "And she's willing to cooperate? Voluntarily?"
"She wants out. She'll give us everything she has if we can guarantee her safety."
Stone took off his glasses, cleaned them on his shirt, put them back on.
"If she's willing to share what she knows, that changes the picture entirely.
The Associates would want to hear this." He looked at Kadeem.
"My advice would be to bring her in carefully.
Protect her, give her a safe location, debrief her thoroughly.
Get the full scope of what she knows before we make any moves. Rushing this would be a mistake."
"How do we get her out?" Kadeem asked.
"Quietly. Someone who can walk into wherever she is and walk her out without Cee raising flags." Stone paused. "Shanay."
Kadeem looked at him. "My wife?"
"Cee's old school. He knows Supreme's circle but he don't move in ours. He won't recognize her. She goes in as a client, a walk-in looking for a consultation. Walks out with Asha, drives to a safe location. Clean extraction, no violence, no attention."
Kadeem sat with that for a moment. "I'll talk to Shanay."
"Do." Stone stood up. "I'll start preparing the Associates briefing. When she's out and debriefed, we take it to them with a full package. Evidence, testimony, operational intel. They'll move on it."
He put his hand on Kadeem's shoulder on the way out. "You're handling this well," he said quietly. "Both of you."
The front door closed behind him. Kadeem and I sat at the table in the quiet kitchen.
"You trust her?" Kadeem asked.
"Yeah."
"You trust yourself with her?"
I didn't answer straight away. Kadeem waited.
"I'm trying to," I said.
He nodded. "That's the right answer. If you'd said yes too fast I'd be worried."
We worked out the logistics. Shanay would make contact at the salon, come in as a walk-in client.
Asha would have a bag ready, something small she could grab fast. Shanay would walk her out with an excuse that wouldn't make Cee suspicious.
They'd drive to the Bed-Stuy apartment where Ma would be waiting.
"Why Ma?" I asked.
"Because when that girl walks through the door she's gonna need somebody who isn't you or me or Stone. She's gonna need a mother." Kadeem looked at me. "Trust me on that."
I did.
After Kadeem went upstairs I stayed at the kitchen table for a minute.
Stone's papers were still spread out from the meeting.
I started gathering them to stack neatly when a financial summary underneath the others caught my eye.
One of Stone's working documents, a cross-reference he'd been building between Supreme's known accounts and the Baptiste financial records.
I scanned the columns. Names, account numbers, transaction dates. Halfway down the second page an account number caught my eye. I pulled out my phone and opened the photograph I'd taken of Pops' dormant financial files weeks ago. Scrolled to the account list.
The number matched. One of the accounts in Stone's cross-reference document was the same dormant account from Pops' files. An account that had been inactive since Pops disappeared but still existed in the system, still tied to a name I didn't recognize.
I photographed Stone's document, put it back where it had been, and left the house.
In the car I texted Asha: We're going to get you out. Soon. Trust me.
She replied a minute later: I trust you.
I stared at those three words for longer than I should have. Then I put the phone down, started the engine, and drove home.
The account number sat in my phone alongside the photograph of Pops' files. Two documents, two sources, same number. Stone had been working on that cross-reference himself. He'd have seen the match. He'd have recognized it.
But he hadn't mentioned it.
I filed that too.