“No, it’s fine. I know when I’m being phased out.”
“I’ll call you later.”
“Lev—”
I looked toward the passenger seat as I turned into another lane. That was when I saw the wallet wedged between the center console and the seat. My attention shifted completely realizing Navy had left it.
I ended the call with Milan, and I picked up the wallet at the next light and turned it over in my hand. Navy must have pulled it from her tote at the café, then placed it in the console when we got back into the truck. I called her but no answer so I tried again and it went straight to voicemail this time. An uneasy feeling overcame me I couldn’t explain. I checked the time; she should have been home by then. Her apartment wasn’t far from where I was, and returning the wallet gave me a reason to warn her once again about Marv.
I made the next turn, and the drive should have taken twelve minutes, but I made it in eight. As I entered her complex, my eyes swept the first row of parked cars automatically. Nothing stood out until I turned toward her building. Then I saw Marv’s whip from a distance parallel parked crooked along the curb, with the back tire half on the grass. The driver’s side sat farther from the curb than the passenger side.
I felt the anger trying to overtake me. “Fuck.”
I pressed the accelerator, moving deeper into the lot. I prayed Navy hadn’t let him inside. She didn’t know everything about Marv. She knew him as my cousin, as the man she talked to before any of this became complicated. She believed whatever had passed between them had been casual enough for him not to care about me and her. She hadn’t heard his voice on the phone nor the paranoia through every sentence. She hadn’t heard him suggest using her body to send a message to her husband. I reached for my phone, but before I could call her again, the apartment door flew open and Navy came running out.
From what I could see, one shoe was missing and her hair had come loose, and fear was all over her face. Even from across the lot, I could see it. She looked like somebody had attacked her. Marv burst through the door behind her. He moved like a wild man, with his arms swinging and mouth open as he shouted something I couldn’t hear through my closed windows. He stumbled off the curb, caught himself against a parked car, then ran toward his own.
I slammed my foot down honking the kids out of the way who acted like they didn’t want to move. The truck surged forward, with my tires gripping the pavement as I cut across the parking lot toward Navy. She looked in my direction and for one second, our eyes met through the windshield. I saw her mouth form my name but somebody else got to her first. Then something so sudden happened, something so violent, that every sound around me seemed to disappear. My truck was still rolling when I watched it unfold right in front of my eyes before pulling my Glock out and busting at the car.
CHAPTER 23
Navy ‘Nay’ Prescott
Day Eleven
Ileft the hospital feeling better than I had when I walked into it that morning. Physically, I was exhausted. My feet ached from spending twelve hours trapped inside compression socks and work shoes, and the muscles between my shoulders had tightened into the kind of knot that made yesterday’s massage feel like money wasted. Still, something inside me felt lighter. The conversation with Lev had lifted a weight I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying until it was no longer pressing against my chest.
Maybe it was the uncertainty that had been wearing me down. Maybe it was hearing him admit that he cared about me. It wasn’t as if one conversation had suddenly made everything simple. I still had a husband I was trying to divorce, a life I barely recognized, and more problems than any one woman should have been expected to carry at once. Lev had his own world too,and no matter how close he allowed me to stand beside him, there were parts of it I still didn’t understand.
I should have gone straight home. Instead, once I pulled away from the hospital, I headed toward Da Licking. Tasha had undergone the abortion that morning. She had texted me earlier to say she was all right, but I knew her too well to trust two little words typed across a screen. Tasha could be doubled over in pain with tears soaking her pillow and still sendI’m good, girlbecause she didn’t want anybody worrying about her.
My plan was simple. I would pick up chicken, macaroni and cheese, collard greens, and the apple juice she had suddenly decided she couldn’t live without. Then I would go to her place, make sure she had taken her medicine, and stay until she fell asleep or got tired of me asking how she felt. The parking lot at Da Licking was packed when I arrived. Cars occupied every space near the entrance, forcing me to park closer to the street. People stood outside waiting for orders, and each time the restaurant door opened, the smell of fried chicken and heavy seasoning rolled into the humid night air.
I cut the car off and reached into my tote. My fingers brushed my hospital badge, hand lotion, two pens, the wrapper from a granola bar, and the tangled cord of my charger but I had no wallet. I frowned and pushed my hand deeper. “Come on.”
Pulling the tote into my lap, I began removing things one by one. My lip gloss landed in the cup holder. The stethoscope case went onto the passenger seat, followed by a half-empty pack of gum and three receipts I should have thrown away days ago. I checked the small inside pocket, then the zipper pocket, then the inside pocket again as if sheer irritation might make the wallet appear.
“Damn it.”
I sank into the seat and closed my eyes until the memory came back and remembered I had taken my wallet out when westopped at the café, then placed it in his center console while shifting my tote out of the way to buckle my seat belt. By the time we reached the hospital, I had been so distracted by our conversation I walked away without it.
I looked through the windshield toward the restaurant. A woman stepped outside carrying two large bags, and the smell of chicken grew stronger. My stomach growled loudly enough to make me glance down at it. “So disrespectful,” I muttered.
I could have ordered through an app, but the cards attached to my phone were either locked, outdated, or connected to accounts Rome had once been able to access. I had spent the last few weeks changing passwords and separating everything I could, yet I still didn’t trust any account he had ever seen. The little cash I usually kept in my tote was gone too. I had used it to tip the massage therapist and never replaced it.
With no other option, I called Tasha. She answered after three rings, her voice so low and raspy that it sounded as though I had dragged her from the deepest sleep of her life. “Hello?”
“Were you sleeping?”
“I was trying to.”
There was no television playing in the background, no music, and no smart remark from her either. The absence of all three worried me immediately. “I’m sorry, I only wanted to check on you.”
“I’m alive.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“I’m sore,” she finally admitted. “The cramps keep coming and going.”
