Chapter 8 #2
Kong’s mind immediately flashed to what she mentioned about their parents, but he decided to keep that tidbit of information to himself until he knew more. Mira could have been on bullshit, and he didn’t want to stir an already boiling pot. Right now, he was grateful that Ayla was home.
“No, and we are going to find him. I don’t care what I have to do or how far I have to go. My son is coming home,” Kong vowed.
“I got Clue looking into a few things,” Mozzi said, sitting forward with his hands clasped together. “If he’s out there, we’re going to find him.”
“What about Justin?” Inari posed.
“That’s already handled,” Kong assured her. “Watch the news. Seems Justin was involved in a home invasion. He didn’t make it.”
“So, I’m the only muhfucka hungry around this bitch?” Moose jumped up, and Inari scowled while shaking her head.
“Better take your ass to the Shack or something.”
“So, I can’t find something to eat in your fridge?”
“Moose, I’m not in the fucking mood. And how you been keeping in touch with my son, trying to keep tabs on me?” she quipped, neck rolling with attitude as Dane came back with all the items she had requested.
“Oh, so y’all healing, now the nigga can’t hold water.” Moose scoffed.
“I was trying to be honest,” Dane voiced.
“Yeah, aight. You got it.” Moose flicked the tip of his nose.
“I made mistakes, Nari, several. None of that stopped me from giving a fuck, though. You take that shit how you want it. I just went and laid a bunch of niggas down to help bring your sister back to you. Fuck what I say, watch how I move. I’ll give you your little space, though.
Let’s go.” He glanced over his shoulder at Mozzi, bringing himself to his feet.
Speechless, Inari let him brush past her, his words sinking in with every step he took to the door. More than anything she hated that his ass was right. She rolled her eyes right before he and Mozzi stepped outside, and Moose closed the door behind them.
“He’s going to drive me crazy.”
Kong chuckled.
“You must be special. I ain’t never seen that nigga be so relentless.”
“Well, he needs to stop.”
“What’s wrong with Moose, Ma?” Dane chimed in.
“Dane, take your auntie her things, please. I’m not about to discuss this with you.”
“I’m just saying.” Dane shrugged. “I know at first I was on the fence, especially after Danilo came back around. But Moose really cares about you and me. No faking. He ain’t perfect. If you can forgive me, or at least attempt to, shouldn’t he get a second chance?”
Dane didn’t give her time to answer. Instead, he started up the staircase. Kong tipped his head, brows lifting in agreement with the kid.
“Jane used to say that Moose was the only one of us who was emotionally aware.” Kong took a few steps toward the couch and sat down.
“He’s frustrating as hell is what he is,” Inari rebutted. “How am I supposed to get over him if he keeps coming around?”
“You sure that’s what you want?” Kong teased, leaning back on the couch.
“Do you know what he did? At the Vault?” Inari picked up her glass of tequila off the table and brought it to her lips.
“I know that Moose likes adventure, and it’s hard for him to turn down anything surrounding a big payday.
He got word on that job literally right before it happened, so he didn’t have a lot of intel, and he only cared about the payout.
When he realized what was happening, it was already too late.
If he went against it, that would have created even more problems. In no way did he do what he did to intentionally hurt you.
I think his actions afterward prove that. ”
Kong watched her wrestle with the facts as she grabbed the bottle of tequila and refilled her glass.
“Thank you for bringing my sister home. I’m going to go check on her.” With her glass in one hand, and the bottle of tequila in the other, she stomped toward the foyer.
Kong stared after her, shaking his head before going into his pocket for his cell to call Bee.
He told her he would update her when he had information, and he wanted to make sure the kids were good.
She said the kids were sleeping, so Kong dragged himself upstairs to check on Ayla.
By the time he reached her bedroom door, he found Inari standing there, arms crossed, looking into the room.
Ayla had showered and changed into sweats and an old t-shirt.
Her hair was still in wet curls from washing it in the shower, and she was out cold.
“Are the kids okay?” Inari asked without turning around.
“They are.” Kong bobbed his head.
“You have guards who can stay here for the night, Kong.” She half turned, peeping him over her shoulder.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he declared.
“Then drink with me. I have a feeling she’s going to be out for a while.” Inari passed him the bottle and slid down the door frame.
She sat right there, knees bent, holding her shot glass between her legs. Kong twisted the cap to the bottle and tipped it to his lips.
“What’s going to happen with those other girls?” she wondered.
“I don’t know. Some of them were young. State custody, or some group home. I talked to Bee about it. She’s going to use her contacts to look into things. Help out if she can. No telling how long some of them were there.” Kong leaned against the doorway and studied Ayla as she slept.
He couldn’t stop himself from thinking about everything she’d endured.
Isolated. Pregnant. Delivering their child and not knowing what happened to him.
All that was cruel enough, so he had to wonder what else Mira did to her.
If that bitch wasn’t already bits and pieces in the river, he would have loved to torture the shit out of her for what she did.
Swallowing another shot of liquor, his murderous thoughts drifted to Justin.
He’d gotten off easy. At the end of the day, Kong was ready to wipe this situation to the furthest corner of his mind and focus on what was ahead.
“She’s going to be fine,” Inari said, cutting into his thoughts with her eyes also on her sister. “She’s a fighter. Clearly. No matter what happened, Ayla is going to come out on the other side of this. We’re going to make sure of that. I owe her and my parents that.”
Mira’s last words echoed once again, haunting him. He would have to run that by Audiemar if he wanted answers. Something about the way she said it and how smug she was let Kong know there was some truth to whatever she thought she knew. Why would she waste her last breath telling him otherwise?
Coast had been restless. With a paint palette in her hand, she used her arm to swipe the little sweat beads that had gathered at her forehead while gripping her paintbrush.
She wasn’t sure what the piece in front of her was supposed to represent.
It was chaotic, with colors all over the place in a design even she couldn’t describe, aside from it being abstract.
She’d finally gotten Iara down, and even though she knew she should be trying to sleep with her and Mozzi, she couldn’t.
Soft lofi music played in the background, and she tipped her head to the side to study the work.
“I like it.” Her husband’s sexy voice acknowledged from the doorway.
Swinging her head in his direction, she looked him over in his joggers with no shirt, arms tucked across his chiseled, tatted chest while studying her.
He had gotten home only a few hours ago, showered, snuggled with her and Iara, claiming he was just putting her to bed and ended up snoozing with her.
Coast watched them sleep, but too much tossing and turning pulled her out of bed.
“I don’t even know what it is.” She released a stressed breath.
“Ain’t that the beauty of art? It’s up for perception.” Mozzi strolled into the room, and Coast turned back to her canvas.
“I tried to sleep. I couldn’t.” She dropped her paint pallet and brush onto the stool in front of it and sighed. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” Frustrated, she brought her hands against her face and growled lowly.
“You spent the last year carrying a baby, mama.” His hands fell on her hips, admiring her frame in her boy shorts and one of his white button up shirts that hung on her like a dress.
“Give yourself some grace. You got plenty of time to become all the shit you want to be,” he added, coming up behind her.