Page 76 of Thirst

“No,” I tell her as I pause at the threshold of my bathroom. “The pleasure is all mine.”

Then I close the door and listen to the sound of her leaving, already anxious for us to be together again. Now that it’s official, I want to give her everything she ever dreamed of, and that starts with everything Stanley Moore tried to take.

Telepathically, I reach out to Shawn as I come out of the bathroom and nearly burn my feet again trying to put the door slats back in place.

“Shawn, make sure you watch her until she’s completely out of the parking garage,” I tell him. “She's the most important thing to me, and I want her safe.”

Shawn quickly answers. “She's driving away now. Said she had a blast and was glad she decided to come back. Congratulations. So, now what?”

I finish with the door and return to my chair. “Now, it’s time to put Stanley Moore to use.”

AALIYAH

Forty-Five

Janae’s apartment is one floor beneath mine. She usually comes to my place, but when she texted this morning, she asked if I could go to her spot after work so we could talk. There has been so much going on in my life, I'm actually grateful for the change of scenery, even if it is just one floor south.

When Nae opens the door, I'm immediately surprised by how messy her apartment is. I walk in and find tons of brown boxes with flimsy cardboard tops, and labels marking what they are. One says it’s from the Harris case from 2024. Another reads Lucero v the state of New Mexico. There are plenty more with their own inscriptions written in thick black marker spread all over her apartment. Even the living room contains four boxes that look newer, and they all have the same words on them. Jones Trial.

Janae looks as worn out as some of the boxes. She's dressed in a loose green robe covering green and white pajamas, with her hair still in her usual bubble braids. Her brown skin is still as flawless as ever, but she doesn't have the same glow I'm used to seeing from her. Tonight, the bags under her eyes look fresh and heavy, and I think she needs sleep more than she needs a night of drinking wine, yet here I am with two glasses in one hand and a bottle of Merlot in the other. Both of us are clearly fresh out the shower because the smell of body wash, cocoa butter, and baby oil is heavy in the air.

“Girl,” I say, tilting my head down as I look at her. “You sure you're in the mood for company, because you look a mess.”

“That’s usually what I say about you,” she replies quickly as she closes the door and makes sure to lock it. “But just like you, conversation and wine always lift your girl’s spirits. So ignore the mess and come on.”

I follow her into the living room and watch her lift a stack of papers off of her black couch and put them on the TV tray next to her. She sits down with a huff and I mirror her, immediately pouring the wine because it’s clear she needs it quickly. If I had an IV, I'd hook it straight up to her veins so she could take it intravenously. I hand her a glass and she doesn't let a second pass before pulling it to her lips.

“Yeah, I figured you’d do that,” I say as I fill my own glass and set the bottle on the crooked glass coffee table. “So talk to me. Why are you in here looking like you could be on an episode of Hoarders?”

“It’s not usually like this,” she answers. “I tend to keep it together, but my dad has got me too busy to even pick up after myself right now. I'm sitting in on this police brutality case, and it is wearing me thin. We’re getting ready to go to trial and the workload is insane.”

I sip my wine and nod along. “I feel you. I know that has to be hard. It’s dope that your dad is letting you dive a little deeper, though.”

“Yeah, it is. I'm happy to be doing what feels like real lawyer stuff. It’s just exhausting.”

“I bet. I'm over here stressing about this exhibit coming up, but I know you're more tired than me.”

“Oh, that’s right. So you're doing it, huh? Old Creeper Stanley came through?”

“Well … sort of,” I say. Then my brain goes into overdrive as it sifts through the details of my life, trying to pick out the things I can and can’t say. “We actually had a date already, but Stanley … well, it fell through. Umm, Amari is helping now, just to make sure it doesn't come apart again. It’s going down in a few days.”

Now it’s Nae’s turn to nod. “Wow. That’s great. So, Amari is working with Stanley? Is Amari into art, too?”

My heart speeds up as I remember the night Stanley tried to rape me in the back room of the same venue I'm about to be in. I see Amari standing in the entranceway after having just been shot multiple times, his fangs on full display with a face full of thick veins. I swallow hard and try not to let my anxiety show.

“He's not really into art like Stanley is,” I reply. “But he's really good with business, and he wants to make sure there's no more issues with Stanley.”

“Oh,” Nae says, but confusion mars her face. “Did Stanley mess up the first time or something?”

“Yeah. He just … dropped the ball.”

“Well okay. Whatever gets the job done I guess. So, are you and Amari together now? Last time we talked about him, he was turning out the club and playing with your employment.”

I nod, remembering that I told Nae about Amari manhandling those boys at Fantasies. She has no idea that he's a vampire and that we’ve slept together since I found out. There's a lot she doesn't know. A lot she can't know.

“Yeah, that’s true, but we’ve talked since then,” I try to explain without divulging too much. “We worked it out, and now … yeah, we’re together.”

Nae’s eyes widen. “Oh, well damn. Like, officially and exclusively?”