Chapter 8
I marched across the street to get answers, but the officer manager, Leslie, didn’t have any that made sense.
“You’re telling me the leasing policy just changed overnight?” My voice was even, but the irritation bubbled beneath the surface. “And somehow, I’m the only one affected?”
Leslie didn’t even flinch. “Your file was flagged for income verification.”
I huffed a laugh. “I’ve lived here for over a year. My lease was renewed last month. If my occupational eligibility was an issue, why wasn’t it brought up then?”
She shifted uncomfortably. “I only enforce the policies as they’re given to me. I’m sorry, Miss Dixon.”
“Right.” My jaw tightened. “I’ll need a copy of that policy, please.”
“I’m sorry, but as of today, your lease is terminated, and per policy, you need to vacate the premises immediately.”
I squared my shoulders, trying to maintain my composure, but Leslie was trying it. “Fine, let me in to get my stuff.”
“To keep the unit in its original condition, you must wait for the apartment manager to let you in to collect your things.”
“When will that be?”
“Friday.”
“So I’m locked out of my shit with nothing but the clothes on my back until Friday? You’ve got me fucked up! When I’m done, I’ll own this building, and my first order of business is firing you!” I yelled, lunging across the counter.
She blinked slowly but moved fast, jumping out of my reach. “You’re trespassing! I’m calling the police!”
Then security showed up, followed by two cops, strolling in like they already had me pegged. One officer asked to speak with me outside. Another radioed something in. They continued to use words like 'precautionary' and 'temporary detainment.'
“We have some questions, Miss Dixon,” the taller cop said. “You’re not under arrest, but you will need to come with us.”
“And if I say no?” I asked.
“Then I’d remind you that you attempted to assault Mrs. Jackson. We can also legally hold you for questioning for up to twenty-four hours. Voluntary or not.”
Officer Smith didn’t wait for me to respond or even nod, ushering me out of the leasing office into the cramped squad car.
Pulling up to the precinct, this had to be a hallucination.
There was no way I was stuck in a dingy booking room.
I didn’t know how long I’d been here because he had taken my belongings, and there wasn’t a clock on the wall.
Just a wobbly metal table and chair that made my ass so numb, I traded it for the floor after a while.
I drew my knees in and rested my forehead against them, allowing me to think without distractions. Then Officer Smith walked back in, wearing a smug look. Not feeling the power dynamic of him standing over me, I stood up but refused to speak.
He leaned in, arms folded. “Miss Dixon, we’re not saying you’re in trouble… yet, but your nonprofit doesn’t seem to do much non-profiting. We have your bank statements here, and there are a lot of red flags.”
I kept my eyes trained on the folder but didn’t reach for it. He waited, hoping I would respond. Instead, I blinked, still refusing to open my mouth.
“You should start explaining before you are in trouble,” he urged, while his beady eyes slid from my V-cut top to my lips. “I can help you if you let me.”
Smith wanted me to start talking and inadvertently admit something. That’s how most people ended up buried in charges- trying to explain, reason, or be helpful. Sloane taught me the game, so he’d have to do his job if he wanted to book me.
“Nothing to say?” Smith asked, scribbling something down.
I folded my arms and leaned back, shrugging like I had since I got here.
Eventually, he gave up and stepped out. Since I was a kid, I could maneuver my way out of anything, but this hill felt steep, like it would take more time than I had to climb it.
Lowering back to the floor, I closed my eyes, trying not to think about Rayven’s tuition or what would happen if they didn’t let me go.
Calm down and think, Navie. What can you use to get yourself out of here?
The door opened again, and I thought Officer Smith was back to gloat or make more sexual innuendos. Instead, he tilted his head toward the hallway.
“It’s your lucky day. Your lawyer just arrived,” he groaned.
“My lawyer?” I repeated to myself, confused.
Treason swaggered in the room, looking good in the black-on-black suit with no tie, radiating power. I begged God for a way out, but this had to be the work of the devil.
“I need a moment with my client,” Treason tossed over his shoulder. Officer Smith nodded, shutting the door on his way out. Alone, he studied me, gaze flicking over my body as he checked for damage. “That floor is dirty as fuck. Get up.”
He stood perfectly calm and in control because he’d orchestrated every inconvenience I faced, down to sitting on this dirty ass floor he was scolding me about.
“Get out!” I fussed, smacking the hand he offered me again .
“That’s no way to treat your boyfriend, who’s been worried about yo’ ass all day,” Treason fussed, pulling me off the floor anyway.
On my feet, I shoved him and sat at the table.
“What the hell did you do?” I hissed, but Treason disregarded my question, leaning against the table.
“Are you okay? Did they fuck with you?”
“Yeah, they did. I’ll need therapy for the rest of my life, thanks to you and them.”
He laughed, “You need therapy, but it isn’t because of me.”
“ You put me here.”
“ You put yourself here. We could’ve had fun at the spa, but choices have consequences, Navie.”
Disgusted and angry, my fist clenched, ready to fire back, when the door opened.
“I’m not done with my client!” He barked, and the door shut abruptly.
A reminder that my options were limited.
“Why do you want me so bad?” I asked, trying to drown out the voices that tugged me in different directions.
“Believe it or not, I see something in you. Real shit, you’re more than just a pretty face, and I don’t wanna see it thrown away or worse if it lands in the wrong hands.”
He almost sounded sincere. Almost , but life taught me not to believe in saviors—or sexy men who promised you the world.
. . . but Treason was my only way out right now.
“What do you want from me?”
“My offer hasn’t changed despite you making me go through a lot of bullshit to make your life easier. Just think of me as your work husband.”
I heaved at the thought while Treason shook his head, “Please. You’re not doing this for me.”
“I’m doing this for us because that’s what partnership is about. I get what I need, and you get what you want.”
“You can’t possibly give me what I want.”
“Try me,” he replied, leaning in.
“Freedom. So get me out of here and cut your losses,” I suggested, my last-ditch effort before I sold my soul.
My past wasn’t pretty and held many secrets. The kind that could damage Treason’s reputation and aspirations. While the thought made me horny, it wasn’t worth the trouble.
“I don’t take losses, so you have two options. Leave with me, or let the justice system sort out this mishap . They’re really fair and understanding with people who look like us.”
“Being with you is trading one prison for another.”
“You think being with me is worse than this shit?” he frowned, insulted.
“Treason, don’t do this,” I muttered, defeat pulling me under like a tidal wave.
Whatever oxygen Treason brought in with him was gone. Saying yes felt like making a deal with the devil. I survived it once, but twice would break me.
“How do I know you won’t use this to blackmail me again and again?”
“I won’t.”
“Wow, that makes me feel so much better.”
“What do you need, Navie?”
“I want your word that you’ll agree to my five demands without contest.”
“Three, and you have a deal,” he countered.
I squinted at him, thinking this was a negotiation. I wasn’t sure if I was bluffing myself, but caving now would give Treason more leverage.
“I said five or I’ll take my chances on my own.
“Aight, Vie, but if I’m giving you what you want, you have to do your part.”
“Stop calling me Vie, and get me out of here. I want my account unfrozen by the morning, too,” I shoved the chair back, ready to leave. Irritated that I would be doing so with Treason beside me.
“I’m your man. We’re supposed to have cute nicknames and shit,” Treason said, unbuttoning his jacket and draping it around my shoulders.
“I can think of many names to call you,” I sneered, but Treason chuckled, knocking on the door.
The recycled air was giving me a headache and clogging my sinuses. I had never been happier to step into the dimly lit hallway. We barely made it five steps before one of the officers spoke up.
“Mr. Westbrook,” the younger one called, trying to sound more confident than he felt. “You think you’re just gonna walk her out like she’s not under investigation.”
Treason tilted his head. “I know I am.”
“She’s a suspect in an active inquiry.”
“My lady was arrested on a bogus tip that wouldn’t hold up in any court. We’re leaving.” His tone turned sharp, dripping with condescension.
His lady?
“We’re still sorting out the details,” the older one said, clearing his throat. “Looks like it may’ve been a mix-up at the leasing office, but her name flagged in the system tied to a fraud investigation.”
“You froze her nonprofit account,” he said, voice low but sharp. “That’s illegal unless she's been charged with a crime, which she hasn't. That’s strike one.”
The older officer opened his mouth, but Treason didn’t give him the chance.
“She asked for her attorney,” he added easily, lying while his eyes narrowed. “No one called me. That’s strike two. Three, your officer inappropriately made sexually suggestive comments. Should I keep going?”
His face turned red with each word spoken. The whole precinct watching Treason hand him his ass on a silver platter didn’t help.
“I suggest you get your paperwork in order before you find yourself on the wrong side of mine,” he added smoothly. “But in the meantime, I’m taking her home. If you need to speak to my client again, contact my office. Let’s go, baby.”
Treason steered me toward the exit past curious eyes and whispers. Stepping out of the precinct doors, a black SUV sat idling at the curb, but the blinding flashes from cameras and microphones shoved in my face made me shrink into Treason’s chest like a child.
“I got you. Walk to the truck and don’t say a word,” Treason mumbled, nudging me forward.
Mr. Westbrook, is this your girlfriend?
Did you orchestrate this arrest to distract from the stalled education funding bill?
How does Thandie Moyo feel about this?
Miss Dixon, do you plan to sue the department for wrongful arrest?
Treason, Victor Jackson’s been vocal about you using your position to further your personal agenda. Do you have anything to say about that?
Treason stopped and turned like a conductor silencing an unruly orchestra. The crowd hushed, desperate to catch every word.
“They created a position to ensure the same people criticizing me are doing their job. That should tell you everything you need to know about Victor Jackson and his agenda.”
His charisma had a way of making everything feel like a command, like he wasn’t just speaking to you, but demanding you listen.
“But what about the accusations, Treason?”
He turned to face me, his eyes locking with mine for a moment. There was something about the way he looked at me now, different from earlier, as he kissed my forehead. It was hard to describe, but in that moment, it felt like reassurance.
“Victor’s accusations are political theater.
I’m not here for that. As for the other part, Navie has supported me in ways most people wouldn’t understand.
Her sacrifices have allowed me to focus on my job and the campaign because black women have always been the backbone of our communities, showing up when no one else will, pushing us forward when the odds are stacked against us. ”
Treason’s voice softened, and I found myself hanging on every word just like the reporters. There was so much conviction in his tone that I almost believed the things he said about me.
“So yeah, I’m here returning the favor, being the man my mother raised me to be. The man Navie deserves. I’m not concerned with how it looks to the public or the opposition. Especially when innocence is a privilege some of us don’t get. Even the girlfriend of a public official.”
At that moment, with cameras flashing, I couldn’t tell if Treason was saving me or if I’d fallen deeper into his trap. He didn’t give me much time to think about it, pulling me closer.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to get her home. It’s been a long day.”
Treason remained quiet, sliding into the car. He didn’t even look at me until the door shut, sealing us behind tinted windows.
“What the fuck was that? I’m exposed now!” I yelled.
Treason exhaled, stretching his arms along the back of the seat.
“You’re safe now.”
“I’m not safe. Especially with you!”
His lazy amusement was gone, and his voice dropped to a dangerous cadence.
“Let’s cut the bullshit. You got yourself into this. You chose me. I gave you an easy out, but you didn’t take it. You think I don’t have more important shit to do than playing cat-and-mouse games just for you to realize I was always your only option.”
He leaned in so close I could feel his breath ghosting over my skin.
“You’re here now, so let’s stop having this dumbass conversation and focus on the future.”
My pulse stuttered, dragging my eyes away so he didn’t see the tears building.
What the fuck did I get myself into?