The two women hugged and laughed.
“Did you get your dress?” Nivéa asked, hoping everything worked out. The reception would be there in no time; only a week away.
“Yes, ma’am and my shoes. Grammy’s gonna be sharp. I can’t wait.” Kerri then turned to Crown.
“Son.” She wrapped her arms around him next and stayed there the longest. She was so happy to see him. Normally, it had just been her, Nivéa, and the baby.
“Morning, mama.”
Kerri pulled back and looked him over. She loved the man her oldest son was becoming. Yeah, he had always made her proud, but seeing him stand there with his family filled her with a different kind of pride.
“I’m glad to see you made it, baby.”
Crown smirked and nodded.
Kerri’s attention immediately shifted to the carrier in his hand. “And there’s my baby.”
The softness in her voice made Nivéa smile even harder. Kerri carefully reached down and brushed her fingers across Nyla’s cheek. The baby stirred in her sleep, stretching her tiny fingers before settling back down.
“Oh, look at her.”
“Yeah, now her butt wants to sleep,” Nivéa joked, playfully rolling her eyes.
Kerri shook her head, smiling. “That’s alright. Grammy gonna spoil you when you wake up.”
Crown watched the interaction quietly until movement across the parking lot caught his attention. Gunner was making his way across with his grandmother at his side.
Satin Hills was a big city, but somehow still small at the same time. Their people had been attending the same church for years.
When the two men locked eyes, Gunner smirked…like he knew something Crown didn’t. And that smirk unsettled Crown. He tightened his jaw as he watched the nigga walk into the church, deciding to let it go for now.
“Come on,” Kerri said, pulling him from his thoughts. “Let’s go inside before service starts. Y’all butts looking like y’all need a word today.”
Together, they headed inside, looking like any other family on a Sunday morning, and Crown felt… good despite that nagging feeling in his gut that something was wrong.
Chapter Nine
ONE WEEK LATER.
Rain hammered the Hills relentlessly, turning the streets glossy beneath the glow of scattered streetlights. Most people with good sense were asleep at three o’clock in the morning.
Danger wasn’t most people.
His matte sage-green Hayabusa ripped through Hills Borough, its sleek body glistening beneath the rain. He hit back street after back street before finally pulling into Caresha’s apartment complex. Water streamed from the bike as he killed the engine and climbed off. After removing his gloves, he jogged through the downpour and up the stairs, knocking twice before pulling off his helmet and dragging a hand across his soaked face.
A few seconds later, the door opened. Caresha stood there in a gown, and a big bonnet damn near swallowing her head. Her hair was wrapped and protected, but the bonnet didn’t matter much to Danger. He blinked once, then twice.
“Damn,” he said.
Caresha grinned, rolling her eyes. “What?”
“You look good as fuck.”
She laughed. “How? You say anything. I got on a damn bonnet.”
“What the fuck that mean? You still look good.”
His gaze traveled from the hot pink bonnet on her head down to the heart-print Moomoo gown she wore, showing off her pretty thighs.
