This time, his smile was as big as usual. “Why you think I had you come here?”
Luca, Cardo, and Will were holding Jarmon in the back of the building. Strapped down to a chair in the middle of the floor, his eyes swollen and his mouth and nose leaking, he looked like he had seen better days. Still, the nigga was conscious, and he started babbling the minute Seth and I walked in. I didn’t have time for all the damned lies and denials. I nodded once at Luca who took off his belt and looped it around Jarmon’s neck before pulling quickly. I watched as the nigga’s eyes bucked and histongue protruded before nodding at Luca again. He let go and Jarmon gasped for air.
“So, Black got a problem with us?” I asked, my voice calm.
Jarmon shook his head quickly. “N-n-nah. Why you say that?”
“I mean, niggas that work for him tryna kill me. Something must be up.”
He looked up at me, doing his best to appear innocent. “Who… who tryna kill you?”
I glanced at Luca. He tightened the belt again. Jarmon strained, desperate for air. This time, Luca held it a little longer before relenting. Seth and I stood there as Jarmon struggled to catch his breath. Finally, I spoke again.
“You tryna be funny? You don’t know about the drive by?”
“I—” he erupted into a fit of coughing before he answered. “Yeah, I know about that. Everybody know about that. That don’t mean Black had something to do with it.”
I nodded. “You right. Maybe it doesn’t trace back to Black. Maybe the shit stops with you.”
He tried to straighten up in the chair. “Wait, wait, wait. I ain’t got nothing to do with?—”
“I guess yo’ cousin just lying on you for no reason, huh?” I cut him off, my patience wearing thin.
Caught off guard, Jarmon swallowed. I debated giving him a minute to get his lie together, just to see what he would say. But fuck that. I didn’t have time for all this. I walked closer to him and squatted in front of his chair. His eyes locked with mine, his nostrils flaring from how hard he was breathing. I gave him a cold little smile.
“I’on wanna hear no more lies, Jarmon. You understand?”
“Y-y-yeah.”
“And you know you only as good as the information you give me. You give me something good enough, Imightthink aboutsparing yo’ worthless life. So, I suggest you stop lying and start talking.”
“But—”
I held up a hand. “If I don’t believe the next word that comes out of yo’ mouth, I’ma let Luca pull the belt again. And he won’t stop until you not breathing. Make sure you understand that.”
For a minute, the dingy ass room was quiet. Finally, Jarmon coughed and started talking.
“This really wasn’t a job for Black. Not directly. He owed some nigga a favor…”
“What nigga?” I interrupted.
“I-I don’t know.”
I looked at Luca. A grim smile lifted his mouth as he pulled the belt tighter.
“W-wait! I really don’t know. All I know is that he called the nigga Trell!”
Hyacinth was already talkingbefore my car even turned into the parking lot.
I knew she was talking, because my phone had been vibrating nonstop for ten minutes straight with eight text messages, three voice notes, and one meme of a Black girl pacing while holding her wig like she was about to interrogate somebody’s son.
Translation: Hyacinth Fulton wanted answers.
Hyacinth was my cousin and other best friend. And right now, she was my headache.
I pulled into the lot in front of Darnita’s, the one spot she insisted had “the only real food in this town.” She claimed it was better than her own cooking. I thought they were evenly matched, but I let her have it. Before I could even grab my pursefrom the passenger seat, she was banging on the hood of my car like she was trying to repossess it.
“Farrah Gray, if you don’t bring your light bright ass out this damn vehicle right now, I swear to God!” she ranted.
