“You wanna come collect your payment?” I whispered near his ear.
He exhaled harder, a sound I felt in the most interesting places. Then he pulled back to look at me fully, brushing a thumb over my cheek.
“You tryna distract me,” he said softly.
I cupped his face with both hands. “I’m tryna take care of you,” I corrected.
He kissed my palm. “I know.”
His hands slid up my back, pulling me closer against him. He kissed me, then, all deep and slow, started lowering me onto my back. I felt the board under me, pieces digging into my skin, his damn hotels falling. Neither of us cared.
“You still owe me twelve hundred,” he whispered.
I laughed breathlessly. “You better keep kissing me.”
“This your payment plan?”
I leaned close, lips brushing his. “I’ll add interest.”
He sighed. “Fine. I accept your terms,” he said, pretending it was a hardship.
I knew better, I smiled up at him.
“Then come collect.”
The morning lightcut through the glass walls of the conference room, all clean and sharp, the kind of contrast that highlighted just how gritty my “other” life in the streets could get. I’d been sitting across from Carlos Morales for twenty minutes, nodding at whatever contracts he was running through, but my mind wasn’t here. Focusing on his words was beyond me.
Every time I blinked, I heard Farrah telling me how Trell said to ask Gillian. And even louder, I heard Gillian lying to me two days ago; even the sweet night with Farrah couldn’t erase that. That fact kept circling in my head, clouding my vision…
Breaking my heart.
“—and you’ll need to sign this one by Friday,” Carlos said, sliding a document across the table. His voice was calm, patient,the same tone he used back when I was deep in the game and trying to learn how to act like a man who belonged in boardrooms.
“Mm-hmm,” I muttered, not even looking.
He watched me for a beat, then set down his pen. “You haven’t heard a word I said in the last fifteen minutes.”
I rubbed my jaw, exhaled slowly. “Got some shit going on, Carlos.”
“I gathered.” He leaned back in his chair, studying me over his glasses. “This about your mother?”
My gaze tangled with his. “What makes you say that?”
A sympathetic smile creased his face. “I’ve known Gillian since before you could tie your shoes,mijo. You’re her firstborn. You’ve always been in tune with her. When something’s off with her, it usually finds its way to you. I’ve never seen anything else shake you.”
I looked away, jaw tight. “Somebody’s been threatening me. Threatening her and Khayla.And Farrah. Some cat named Trell. He said I should ask my mama why he’s coming after us. My mama says she doesn’t know.”
He gave me a long, assessing look before speaking again. “And you don’t believe that?”
I shook my head, hating to speak the word.
Carlos didn’t move for a moment. Then, his fingers drummed the table. “Trell,” he repeated thoughtfully. “That name means something to you?”
“Not yet,” I said. “But I got a feeling I don’t wanna find out.”
He nodded once, the way he did when he was fitting puzzle pieces together in his head. “And your mother? What did she say exactly?”
“She lied,” I said flatly. “She said she don’t know nothing. But I saw it all in her face. She’s hiding something, Carlos. From me.Me!”
