For them, it was, though.
I glanced down at the blood splattered across my shirt before exhaling slowly.
“Let’s clean ourselves up first, then hit the lounge. I need a drink ortenbefore I explain this bullshit. Right now, my life feels like a mafia soap opera written by somebody on cocaine.”
“Damn.” Knox cursed under his breath, then looked at his shirt. “But yeah, let’s switch out. Janira definitely gon’ have questions if I walk in smelling like death and gunpowder again.”
Janira knew exactly what Knox did in his line of work, so it wasn’t about suspicion or lies. She just had one strict rule: don’t bring evidence, bodies, blood, or police attention into her damn house. And Knox liked sleeping indoors, so he respected it.
A dry laugh left me as we headed toward the back corridor.
Every property my family owned for business like that was stocked the same way with extra clothes, shoes, weapons, medical supplies, bleach, cash, burner phones, damn near everything somebody might need after a night went left.
Preparedness kept people alive in our world, and if things went bad enough to require bloodshed, the last thing anyone wanted was to be driving across the city covered in evidence looking like a suspect before the cleanup crew even arrived.
***
The bass from the club vibrated beneath my feet as I leaned back against the bar, sipping on a dark drink that barely touched the mess in my head.
“Aight,” Knox said once we settled in. “We here now, so talk to me.”
I exhaled heavily, dragging my hand down my face, feeling the weight of what I was about to reveal.
“Shit wild. I don’t even know how to say this.”
“Just say it, nigga,” he urged, leaning in with curiosity etched on his face.
I stared into my glass for a moment, watching the amber liquid swirl before finally gathering the courage to speak.
“I got a surrogate.”
Knox’s entire face twisted instantly. “A what?”
“A surrogate, nigga,” I repeated dryly. “Zonnique’s doing it… as you might’ve heard already.”
“Ah, hell!” he groaned, leaning back immediately like the conversation had already physically exhausted him. “Yeah… I definitely need another drink before this story continues.”
Knox flagged a waitress down, his hand slicing through the air like a man trying to call a therapist during a breakdown.
As the drinks kept coming, I finally laid the whole situation out for him. By the time I finished, Knox was staring at me like I’d just confessed to joining a cult.
“That’s some crazy shit, man,” he muttered, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. “So, who’s the chick carrying yo’ baby?”
“Some girl named Talia.” I took another sip, letting the liquid seep in before glancing back at Knox. “Does that name ring a bell to you?"
“Nah. Not off the top of my head.” His frown deepened. “So she’s staying with you?”
“Hell nah! She’s crashing with Zonnique. I told Zonnique that was her mess, so they can lay in it together under the same roof.”
Knox leaned in, clearly intrigued. “So, this isreal-lifelegit? Like, you all did contracts and everything?”
“Yeah.”
That part was true.
After the pregnancy was confirmed, everything moved fast. That same day, the lawyers were called in to draft ironclad contracts covering confidentiality, compensation, medical care, living arrangements, legal protections… damn near everything imaginable. The next day, me and Talia signed, and the rest was history.
After me and Zonnique’s blowup, things between us shifted naturally into something more professional than personal. Anytime we spoke after that, it was strictly business, covering appointments, updates, and logistics… nothing sexual. And apparently, she had already started moving on anyway.
