Page 95 of When a Soul Cries

More than I should've.

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Later that night, I sat in my truck staring at my phone.

**Zari.**

With an actual number underneath it.

Took me damn near thirty minutes to get it, but persistence was a spiritual gift.

I was debating whether texting her immediately made me look thirsty when another thought crossed my mind.

Eastview.

My smile faded.

The opening was getting close, and Rome had been going harder than ever. Changing plans. Looking into expanding some of the income-based units. Talking about resources for single mothers and families who needed a little help getting back on their feet.

All after meeting Sol.

I shook my head.

My brother met one pretty woman struggling with rent and turned into fucking Habitat for Humanity.

But jokes aside, I understood.

Rome had worked too damn hard for everything we had.

There was a time when neither one of us would've imagined sitting in meetings discussing developments and contracts. We would've been discussing territory, money, product, and who the fuck was stepping where they weren't supposed to.

I damn near lost my entire life to that shit.

Rome made sure we didn't go backward.

That's why the **Hollis contract** situation wasn't sitting right with me.

I pulled up Darius's number.

He answered on the fourth ring.

“If this ain't about money or a dying relative, call me tomorrow.”

“It's about money.”

Darius sighed. “Of course it is. What you want?”

“I need you to look into that company competing for the **Hollis contract**.”

A pause.

“Does Rome know you're calling me?”

“Nope.”

“That's usually where my problems start.”

“Stop being scary.”