AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Fifty-two weeks.
It was crazy how little could change over the course of one year.
Three hundred and sixty-five days.
As much as I didn’t want to, I still loved and cared about Mariah. She still had pieces of my heart. There were parts I’d exposed to her and her alone, and I didn’t know how to sew that shit back up.
My plan was to drink the night away, but my guys had other plans. They all came to my suite, and we were going to head out to Tyreek’s gentlemen’s club at midnight. Until then, it was a pre-turn up session, courtesy of them. They supplied enough weed and liquor to have us all fucked up come morning, and I was grateful for that.
Leaning against the railing of the balcony, I stared at the full moon. Maybe that was why I felt so overwhelmed by emotions too. Typically, I was able to pride myself on my logic. My balance. But when it came down to Mariah… it sometimes felt like I had none. It took me months to shift from anger to hurt, and if I was to be honest with myself, I hadn’t made it out of that yet. I couldn’t pull myself to vocally admit that. Didn’t want to appear weak. Maybe that was why I hadn’t been able to fully heal.
Sighing, my head hung, and I couldn’t even pull myself to lift it at the sound of the door sliding.
“What can I do?” Kahlil asked, closing the door behind him.
I wasn’t surprised it was him. He was the only person bold enough to come outside while I was out here alone.
“I’ll be good,” I said, looking in the opposite direction.
“I know.”
I was glad he did, because even though I said it, I wasn’t exactly sure. Until Mariah, I hadn’t had any traumatizing experiences with love. Now, she had me not wanting to share my heart with another woman again. Besides, who would want it now that it was damaged? I was still down for fun and to fuck, but that was about all I offered these days. And even that was limited if I got in my head about Mariah. She had me so paranoid, I didn’t know if I would ever be able to trust a woman again.
“But if you aren’t good…” Kahlil paused and took a swig of his beer. “You know where I’m at.”
With a nod, I mumbled, “’Preciate that, brother.”
“Always.”
We shook hands just as Saint damn near slid the door off the hinges to get outside. He was frowning, which usually meant he was talking to Tristan. As he closed the door, he said, “Slow down and start from the beginning. I couldn’t hear you at first.”
A few seconds passed before both Kahlil and I asked, “You good?”
Saint’s head shook. “Nah. Something is going on with Car, but I can’t understand what she saying because she crying. If that nigga put his hands on you, I’m ’bout to catch a fucking…” He paused, neck craning as he listened intently. “Okay, just slow down, sis. Who was shot?”
“Shot!” I yelled, while Kahlil said… “Call Haley. See if she knows what’s going on.”
“Aight, bet,” I agreed. It wouldn’t have surprised me if Cartier called Haley first, but if it was something about Raven, Saint was probably her first call.
As I pulled my phone out of my pocket, I tried to listen in on their conversation as best as I could. It didn’t matter how I was feeling; if something was going on with Cartier, she would be my priority. I always had trouble labeling us. We weren’t quite friends. That didn’t feel like a special enough word. We weren’t romantic either. Cartier was… a joy to me. That was the best way I could describe her. And if someone had hurt my joy…
“Okay, sis. Let me see if I can get a flight an—Cartier. Calm down, baby girl. I’ma be there as soon as I can, okay? I know you don’t like Tristan, but I’m going to call her and tell her to come pick you up. Stay by your phone, and stay with the security guards until she gets there.”
Once he ended the call, I asked, “Is Cartier okay?”
“Physically, yeah. Her next-door neighbor was robbed. I can’t get all the details because she’s crying so damn hard, but she’s okay physically. Ashley was shot, but I don’t know what condition she’s in.”
Saint sighed and grabbed the back of his head, putting his phone to his ear. He turned his back to us, and I couldn’t imagine the anxiety he felt. My father raised me to be Haley’s protector. If she was thousands of miles away, crying on my phone, I’d break every law possible trying to get to her. Kahlil and I gave him some privacy so he could make arrangements for Cartier with his wife, but when he came back inside, we made it clear we were all ready to take that flight with him if need be. Though he appreciated the gesture, he told us he was going to ride out solo until he got all the details.
I would respect his decision, but I wouldn’t be able to rest until I knew Cartier was okay in all ways. If he couldn’t convince me of that by the time he arrived, I was going to be on the first flight out to see her myself in the morning.
Five
Cartier
I didn’t want to go to the police station, and they didn’t make me. They forced me to give a statement. It didn’t matter how many times I told them I wanted nothing to do with it, they continued to press me for details. I told them I’d seen the man’s face, but I wasn’t willing to work with a sketch artist. After watching him put two bullets in Ashley, I believed him when he said he’d come back for me if need be.
They pressured me for what felt like hours to work with a sketch artist and eventually view some potential suspects in a lineup, but I wasn’t having it… especially when they didn’t offer me any kind of protection. They downplayed the seriousness of his threat, which didn’t surprise me. I’d watched enoughThe First 48episodes and true crime shows to know the police often didn’t take a threat seriously until harm was done or it was too late. Seemed they didn’t try to protect you until you became a victim, and by then, what was the damn point?
