Page 38 of Rich and Rotten

“Bring me that fucking friend. Why the fuck you ain’t lead with that?” I said, mushing the one who hollered out the correct information.

He stood there solid, not cowering or falling down. “Got you. My fault, boss.”

Ignoring him, I headed down the hall to one of the bullshit offices. This spot was out in Harlem and wasn’t used often by us. I just happened to be in some pussy when I got the call. Since I was closer to this location than our main headquarters, I instructed my workers and Nazir to meet me there.

Banga, one of my right hands, hit me up and told me he had found out who was responsible for the missing money. I appointed Banga to be my right-hand man because he handled business. That nigga was like a brother to me. We grew up together, and he held me down throughout the years. After I bounced out of my mom’s house, it was Banga who offered up his mama’s couch for me. He didn’t give a fuck that I was broke and just starting out; whatever he had––which wasn’t much––was mine.

When Karim and his parents moved out of New York for a few years, I realized I needed to focus on myself. I wasn’t about to sit back like a stray dog, hoping they would come back for me. It was me and Banga out there handling business and trying to come up. That nigga had my back, and I had his front. That’s how it had always been. So, when the Sterlings moved back and Raphael put me on, I made sure Banga came along with me.

“I hope you didn’t ask me to come to this shithole just to watch you beat children,” Naz said, taking a seat in one of the chairs as I rounded the raggedy wooden desk.

Laughing, I flipped my middle finger at him. “Shut the fuck up. I asked yo’ freakishly large ass out here because I need you to make some shit make sense for me.”

He raised his brow. “Ight. What do you need me to make sense for you?”

From his tone, I could tell he already knew where I was heading with the conversation. When Nazir and Tatiana saw each other downstairs the day I hired him, I sensed there was something more between them than being just old friends. There was chemistry, and from the way she had been acting lately, everything was starting to make more sense. Not to mention my godbaby had the female version of his name. Nazira wasn’t some common name that every woman was naming their daughters. That shit wasn’t even on the baby name website. Trust me, I checked.

Yes, Tatiana was still my sister, but I knew there were parts of her life she kept secret or only shared with her confidante, Yalina. Yaya held all her secrets, some even Bloom didn’t know. She was her safe space to vent, and after everything she’d been through, I couldn’t blame her.

Yalina was the kind of woman who made you feel safe and secure. So, I could see why Tatiana felt comfortable sharing her deepest secrets with her. Yaya was so damn nurturing, and a nigga needed that in his life. Most often, the women who were the most nurturing were the ones who needed to be nurtured, and I wanted to be the one to do that for her. I wanted to be the man who got her to lower those walls and let me in. To give her good dick while reassuring her that I wasn’t going anywhere.

“You and Tatiana.”

He quietly laughed to himself. “She’s a client.”

“Yet, you haven’t taken a single payment. Matter of fact, the wire payment was reversed back into my account.”

“Not all of it.”

“Yeah, the security for Yaya was kept.”

Nazir leaned forward. “I’m not paying for protection for another man’s woman. It’s clear she means a lot to you for you to be dropping the amount of money you are on her.”

“Stop talking in circles and let me know what the fuck is up? We go back a long way, Naz.”

Naz and I grew up in the same hood, and there was always mutual respect between us. So, when it came to needing protection, I knew this nigga was the one I wanted to go with. I didn’t need a bunch of uptight bitches who did things by the book. If some shit popped off, I needed to know the problem would be handled without involving the police. Naz and his security team would make sure of that.

“Why was the money returned, Naz?”

He clasped his hands together and rested them on his stomach. “I think you already know, Jonah.”

“Stop fucking with me.”

“I’m not going to charge to protect my daughter and the woman who should’ve been my wife.”

It was one thing to suspect it; it was another to actually hear it come from his mouth. Even as I sat across from him, I could see Nazira all through his face. Karim not being Nazira’s biological father wasn’t a secret to me. I knew Nazira had a father out there. I just never imagined we would cross paths this way.

“Man to man, what’s the story behind the two of you?”

He relaxed some, his hands dropping to the arms of the chair as he looked at me.

“She’s the love of my life––the one I let get away. There hasn’t been a woman who could compare since.”

“If she’s the love of your life, how the fuck or why the fuck would you let her get away?”

He chuckled, mostly to himself. “Back then, I was a fucking coward––weak and scared. I pretended to be a man, but when faced with real-men responsibilities, I got cold feet and ran. Tata was putting her life into my hands, and I was too scared to tell her the truth. I left her when she needed me. That’s some sucka shit I can’t forgive myself for. I hurt her, probably causing her trust issues now.”

I admired him for his honesty and for taking accountability. Many men couldn’t admit their mistakes or accept responsibility for the hurt they caused women, leaving pain etched in their hearts. It was never “Sorry because I fucked up,” or “I hurt you, and I shouldn’t have done that.” Nah, they would rather gaslight and shift the blame to the woman. But here was Nazir––sitting in front of me and admitting his fault. I couldn’t do anything but respect him for that.