FIONA
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Since meeting June Calloway at the very first meeting, there had been something about him that intrigued me.
Granted, he was a pain in the ass, but his desire to rule, his assertiveness, his confidence and bluntness, had a way of standing out.
When Bobbie and I decided to do our homework on him, I found myself more interested than I should have been.
Not only was this man handsome, but he was wealthy, and that alone made my pussy wet.
My phone vibrated, distracting me from the work of art I was looking at, but I knew I had a couple of minutes before he came back up the street to end his nightly run. When I saw Naheem calling, I quickly answered. “Hello?”
“He didn’t show up!” he yelled.
I pulled the phone away from my ear before putting it back. “Well, Naheem, I mean, the boy doesn’t have a car. Besides, why are you worried he’s not going to say anything? We made sure of that.”
Naheem and Clark wanted to use Kareem as a pawn, but to me, he was weak. Now, Naheem’s fear of him running to tell had him in a frenzy. Honestly, I didn’t care one way or the other because to me, the problem we had was bigger than fucking Kareem.
Naheem chuckled. “Fiona, thank God for good looks because it’s obvious God missed a step in giving you brains. The nigga is supposed to be here. If I had to guess, he’s either with your son or a bitch because he damn sure isn’t at the halfway house.”
The frustration that settled in me was so obvious that I sighed loudly.
“Fuck you, Naheem. I see why Best stopped dealing with your ass. This was all your plan since coming back from the dead. I said we didn’t need him, and you said we did.
I’m trying to keep Braylen away from it all.
From the Zoo, from your old bitch Best’s daughter, and you’re worried about wanting your son dead—”
“You Bitch!” he shouted. “The pot calling the kettle black. Weren’t you the one who hi—"
Tap! Tap!
I almost jumped out of my skin when I saw him standing at my window. I could hear Naheem’s muffled yells as I hung up on him. I adjusted myself in the seat as I rolled the window down. My eyes slowly rose to a sexy, sweaty June Calloway.
He pulled his towel from behind him and dabbed his forehead.
When he leaned down, a weft of sweat mixed with cologne tickled my nose.
“I was trying to figure out why this very same car is always here on my running nights. Now, you're either creeping on your husband with Mr. Walsh’s old ass, who lives in this house, or you’ve been watching me.
I can tell you right now, I’m not the nigga for hide and seek, sweetheart, so what is it? ”
I cleared my throat as I tried coming up with a lie as to why I had been coming to watch him. My lips didn’t move fast enough as he held up his finger. “I’m not sure if Clark sent you or you’re here because you want to be, but something about you stinks.”
I smirked. I knew he was trying to figure me out, but I wouldn’t let him.
June reminded me much of a person I knew, and if he thought for a second his bark and crass comments affected me, it didn’t.
“I don’t like you. I don’t like what you are.
I want you to stay away from my son. That’s what I want, or else. ”
He ran his hand over his dark waves as he came closer, almost sticking his head in the window. “Or else what? You want a nigga dead. Fuck you and Clark. Sweetheart, this is a game you don’t want to play with me.”
“You don’t scare me,” I hissed.
“You should be scared. You should be at home trying to figure out your next move instead of watching me run up and down the block. You should be worried about your son and why he’s a fucking monster.
You, Fiona, should be scared that whatever secret you’ve been hiding will be revealed.
Now, I’m going to finish my jog for the night, and you, well, I guess you can conjure up a plan to take me out.
I’m going to need your share of the money for my project.
Be safe, sweetheart,” he said as he tapped at the window frame before he jogged off.
I sat there, unsure how to feel. How did he know that I had a secret unless Braylen had told him?
June Calloway coming to Toussaint was a problem, and if Naheem and Clark couldn’t get it done, I would.
I fucked up once before, but this time I wasn’t going to miss.
Everyone had to go; this was my game, and I was about to rearrange the fucking rules.