9. Fontaine Jackson
“Your girl coming to the baby shower?” Cash asked without looking up, his eyes still on the counter as the money flipped through. He’d stop by the warehouse to drop off the cash that the investor had scammed from him.
“You invited her?”
“Jas did.” He rolled his eyes. “She trying to be her friend or something, even though I told her that shit’s pointless.”
It wasn’t necessarily pointless. Nairobi needed real friends. She wasn’t socially awkward, just… closed off. She knew how to work a room but didn’t see any purpose for keeping people in her life longer than what she needed. Work was the only constant in her life, and once upon a time, maybe me.
Did I believe her ass was too far gone to be saved? No, but she needed therapy. I’d never bring that up—she’d brush me off or shut me down and make up some excuse about being too busy with work.
“She’s not hopeless,” I said, stacking the last bundle and closing the safe. “You know how she is.”
Cash gave a half-shrug like he didn’t agree but wasn’t going to press the issue.
I pulled out my phone and checked her location. Her pin hadn’t moved in over thirty minutes. She was in some building near the Beltline, and she hadn’t checked in or texted like I’d told her to.
I shouldn’t be surprised. She was hardheaded and followed her own rules because she thought she knew better than everybody else. But this shit with the Order of Oleander didn’t feel right.
I cracked my neck and ignored the knot in my stomach. “She tell you about them people?”
“Who?”
“Order of Oleander.”
Cash tilted his head, frowning like he’d heard the name before but couldn’t place it. “The fuck is that?”
“Some weirdo rich nigga cult shit,” I said, leaning against the table. “Old money meets Black market. I don’t know much, but I know they popped up outta nowhere and Nai’s pops was tied up with them.”
“What they want with Nairobi?”
I rubbed my temples. “That’s what she’s trying to figure out. They’re probably behind who cleaned out Sterling’s accounts—he owed them a lot of money. She got some invitation to meet them today and won’t let me come with her.”
“And you’re here and not putting eyes on her?”
“She grown.”
He scoffed. “Nigga, you break into her house just ‘cause. What’s the real reason?”
I stared at the floor as I rubbed the back of my neck.
I didn’t want to fall in too deep again if she was gonna dip the second this was over. What happened in Miami fucked me up for a minute. I replayed that night for months, wondering if I should’ve pushed harder, or just thrown her ass over my shoulder and brought her back to Atlanta with me.
But how I look trying to force a grown woman into a relationship? She’d made her choice and I’d left her to live with the consequences of her decision.
Now here we were—two years later—and I was right back in the bullshit with her. I just didn’t know if I could take getting ghosted a second time.
I pulled out my phone again and stared at the location. Her location still hadn’t moved.
“Just keep your distance and make sure she gets out in one piece,” Money said. “You ain’t gotta run up in there like John Wick—just be close.”
“Close enough to pull her out if shit goes left,” I murmured, mostly to myself.
“Exactly,” he said. “‘Cause if something happens and you ain’t there? You’ll never forgive yourself.”
I nodded and slipped the phone back in my pocket.
“Appreciate you, bruh.”
Cash reached out to dap me up. “Y’all still on some bullshit, but y’all my peoples.”
I was starting my car when Drea’s name flashed across the car display.
“Yes?” I answered, pulling onto the main road.
“Don’t kill me, but I need a favor,” she said, sounding flustered. I could hear blow dryers and music in the background. “Gunnar’s school just called—a pipe burst in the building. They’re closing early and I’m slammed.”
I rubbed a hand over my face. “Mama can’t get him?”
“Would I be calling you if she could? She’s here, sitting under the dryer. Look, just grab him some fries and bring him to the salon. I need like an hour.”
“Fine, but you owe me,” I sighed, flicking on my turn signal.
“Love you, big bro,” she said and hung up.
Ten minutes later I pulled into the daycare parking lot. Gunnar was already outside with one of the staff, holding a juice box like it was a weapon.
He sprinted over and crashed into my legs. “Uncle ‘Taine!” he yelled. “Hey, Gunny.” I scooped him up with one arm and smirked. “You behaved today?”
He nodded hard. “Ms. Beth said I was a star listener.”
“Word?” I gave him a pound and looked to his teacher for confirmation.
“He was excellent,” she smiled. “Big helper too.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
He waved goodbye as we headed to the car. I helped him into his booster seat that I kept in the trunk.
“We gotta make a quick stop before I take you to your moms,” I said, handing him his tablet.
“French fries?”
“Yeah, I’ll get you some fries. But after that we’re going on a secret mission. Top secret—so you can’t tell your mom or Nana.”
His eyes widened. “Like a spy?”
“Exactly like that.”
Drea would kill me if she knew I was bringing my nephew into some bullshit, even if it was technically Nai’s mess. But we were just gonna sit out for a bit—an hour tops. See if there was any movement, maybe catch a glimpse of her walking out.
Just one hour. Then I’d drop him off and be done.
We stopped at McDonald’s on the way. I got Gunnar a Happy Meal, figuring the combo of nuggets, fries, and his tablet would keep him busy.
I drove past the building a few times before parking in the commuter lot across the street.
It was rush hour, but there were still enough cars where my truck didn’t stand out.
Her pin had her at an old gentlemen’s club.
You could barely read the faded Pleasure Den sign on the door.
The windows were dark, but a camera was set up above the dusty black awning.
From my spot, I had a clear view of the front entrance.
There wasn’t any security I could see, but I wasn’t naive enough to think that meant that the place was unguarded.
I cracked the moonroof to let some air in, glancing back at Gunnar in the rearview mirror. He was humming to whatever he was watching with his headphones on, swinging his feet, and getting fries all over my leather seats.
I leaned back, making sure to keep my eyes trained on the building for even the tiniest movement. No cars pulled up and not a single soul walked past. It was like everyone knew to avoid this spot.
I’d done more research on the Order after I left her place.
Those people were into some real dark shit—trafficking, black market organ harvesting.
The underground gambling was light work for them.
They weren’t above snatching and selling off wives to settle debts.
This was way beyond anything the Banks Crew ever touched.
Money might run drugs and guns, but trading flesh? That would never be our lane.
Nai couldn’t have known what she was walking into. What if they were threatening to take her mother?
I closed my eyes and exhaled, trying to ignore the tightness in my chest.
Why the fuck was I doing all this for this woman?
Crack.
My eyes snapped open.
A web of fractures bloomed where my head was on the windshield.
I kept still and looked in the rearview mirror. Gunnar was still glued to his tablet, chewing a nugget, oblivious.
Blood rushed in my ears.
I’d never been so grateful that I’d gotten my truck outfitted with bulletproof windows. But they had to have known that. Because it wasn’t a kill shot. If they wanted us dead, we would be.
This was a warning.
I scanned the street and surrounding buildings, hands tightening around the steering wheel. Nothing. No screeching tires, no movement in windows. Just the steady thrum of traffic and my heart pounding against my ribs.
Bile rose in my throat when the severity of what happened hit me. My nephew was in the back seat while somebody just took a shot at my truck. If I hadn’t reinforced this glass?—
“Uncle ‘Taine!”
I flinched, then looked back.
Gunnar held up his empty fry box, “I finished!”
“Good shit, nephew,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. My palms were slick against the wheel.
The phone buzzed in the cup holder.
Drea
Where you and my baby at?
Had to make a quick detour. On our way now.
Drea
If you loaded him up with soda, I’ma beat your ass. It’s hell getting him to sleep after that.
He had a little apple juice. Chill.
I tossed the phone back into the cup holder and stared through the cracked glass at the building across the street. Nairobi had been inside too long. They probably took her phone—but what the fuck were they doing in there?
I turned on the ignition and shifted the car into drive.
One thing was clear: the Order had eyes everywhere.
And now they knew about me.