Page 278
“So, y’all killed my husband over money.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“My husband drove home that night thinking he was safe.”
“That nigga knew he wasn’t safe,” Q said.
“What?”
“Rah knew shit was getting bad. Blood was the only way out of that shit.”
My fingers curled against the edge of the table.
“Did he know you were involved?”
“I don’t know.”
“Were you involved?” I glared at him.
Silence filled the room. Yet, I waited for an answer. He had been a man up until this point.
“I think this conversation is done.”
“Sit the fuck down,” I told him.
He looked at me. “Kyenna.”
“Sit. Down.”
He laughed lightly before sitting back down. He stared at me for another few seconds. I pulled the photograph closer.
“Were these your men?” I asked. “Did your people block that road?”
His tongue moved across the inside of his cheek. That told me enough, but I wanted to hear it.
“Q.”
“My people were there.”
Everything around me went quiet. I thought knowing would feel like something explosive. It didn’t. The shit felt cold.
“Doing what?”
“Making sure Rah stopped,” he said.
“How?”
“They blocked the road.”
My breathing stayed steady.
“And?”
“They fired.”
There it was. My husband’s last minutes reduced to nothing about wanting to fully go legit.
“You paid your men to shoot and kill my husband,” I said with my voice cracking.
