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A beat of silence ticks by.
“Yeah, see, here’s the thing,” Ralpho says. “Our boss may have invited you, but he hired us to watch out for him, which means we make certain judgment calls without him.”
“So you’re saying you’re taking back our invites?” Benton questions, slipping his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “Because that doesn’t seem like a very smart move on your part.”
“We’re not taking them back—we couldn’t even if we wanted to.” Ralpho gives a lengthy pause. “But, we are going to make sure you earn them.”
The muscles in Benton’s arms bulge as he stiffens. “Oh yeah. How?”
“By giving you a test,” Ralpho says. Or more like sneers. “If you pass, I’ll be happy to give you the invites. If you fail, I’m tearing the invites up.”
“But that’d make Drake pissed off,” Benton points out, giving him a pressing look. “At you.”
“No, he’d be pissed off at you, since I plan on telling him you declined his invite.” Ralpho lets out a dark laugh. “Don’t worry, though. If you pass my test, I’ll be more than happy to give you the invites. Plus, I’ll throw in the added bonus of not dragging that pretty girl of yours out of the car.”
Benton steps forward, removing his hands from his pockets. “Zhara isn’t part of this so stay the hell away from her.”
“I told you when I first met her that I wanted to talk to her on Monday. Today is Monday, so I get to talk to her.” Ralpho slants to the side, lifts up his sunglasses, and winks at me.
I smash my lips together, unsure how to respond. Thankfully, Benton sidesteps and blocks me from Ralpho’s view again.
“Tonight’s when the meeting is taking place,” Benton grits out. “It’s not even noon yet. So, you have six more hours before you can talk to her.”
“If I want to talk to her now, I’ll talk to her now.” Ralpho’s demanding tone sends a shiver down my spine. “You don’t give the orders.”
Benton opens and flexes his hands. “No, I don’t. But neither do you.”
“I have more authority than you,” Ralpho argues. “But don’t worry, I’ll give the girl a get out of jail free pass for the next six hours if you pass the test.”
Benton’s hands curl into fists. “And what’s the test?”
“Oh, it’s pretty simple,” Ralpho insists, but the amusement lacing his voice suggests otherwise. “Well, it’ll be if you’ve been telling me the truth about the girl.”
My back goes rigid. What has Benton told them about me?
“What have I told you?” Benton’s tone carries caution. “Because I haven’t told you anything about her really, other than she’s dating us. And that wasn’t even me that told you that. It was Jackson.”
“I know. He has a big mouth, that one. And he loves to run it off to anyone who’ll listen,” Ralpho says. “And while you confirmed that what he said about the girl was true, I’m still not sure I buy it. So, I’m asking for proof. You show it to me, I give you the invites and leave your girl alone until tonight. You fail, I tell Drake you decline the invites and I’m going to take that boy of yours that started the lie and have a nice, long chat with him, since he likes running his mouth so much.”
Chills break out across my skin. No one has explained to me what chat means in the drug world, but I’m fairly positive it doesn’t mean having a nice, long talk.
“How do you expect me to prove that to you?” Again, Benton’s tone is guarded.
“I have a few ideas.” The low laugh that reverberates from Ralpho's lips as he leans to the side and catches my eye causes my stomach to ravel into knots.
I don’t know why, but I hadn’t thought too much about proving to people that I’m in a relationship with six guys. What does proving even entail? How does someone prove they're in a relationship with multiple people? I might be naïve about dating and guys, but a couple of scenarios pop into my mind. Scenarios I’m not ready to reenact with Benton and the guys, let alone with Benton in front of two perverted drug lord worker bees.
Then a lump wedges in my throat. If I don’t do what they say, they might hurt Jackson.
“If you want a show, go to a strip club,” Benton replies flatly. “Because, whatever you’re thinking, isn’t going to happen.”
“You have no idea what I’m thinking, so don’t make assumptions,” Ralpho retorts, looking highly entertained as he glances from me to Benton. “I’m not going to make you and your guys fuck her in the car while we watch. I don’t get my kicks off of other guys fucking women. I prefer doing it myself.” He drags out a pause. “However, if I wanted you to, you’d have to, or else your boy would be,” he brings his finger to his neck and drags it along his throat.
My pulse quickens and my stomach winds into even more knots as I realize the full meaning of the word chat.
“But like I said, I prefer fucking women, not watching other men fuck women.” He lowers his hand from his throat. “So, for proof, all I want is for you to get your girl out of the car and give her another one of those passionate,” he rolls his eyes, as if he thinks the word is stupid, “kisses you were giving her when we walked up. And then have one of your other guys do the same. If there’s no jealousy and the girl goes through with it, then I’ll take that as enough proof.” His eyes darken. “For now, anyway.”
For now? Does that mean will have to prove more to him later? Because thinking about kissing two guys in front of Tank and Ralpho is already turning my stomach into an out of control bouncy house crammed with insane butterflies.
“And then you’ll get your invites and we’ll leave everyone alone until later tonight,” Ralpho prattles on. “But I still need to talk to the girl tonight to make sure she’s trustworthy.”
Great. Now not only do I have to make out with two guys in front of two guys, but I have to prove my trustworthiness to a drug dealer.
I press my forehead to the window, the glass warm against my chilled skin. I want to help the guys—I really do—but my mind is spinning a mi
llion miles a minute and I can barely think straight.
I don’t think I can do this.
“Look, I really want to prove it to you, but right now, all my guys are out,” Benton tells him with an edge in his tone. “Maybe tonight we can give you some proof.”
“If your guys are all gone then who’s that?” Ralpho nods in the direction of the entrance to the apartment complex.
I rotate around in the seat to see who he nodded at. Then my heart goes from a galloping horse to a freakin’ sprinting wild mustang.
Xavier is entering the parking lot, coming from who knows where. When he left the apartment, he said he was going to go check the area, but never embellished what that meant. Since the Rogue was caught last night, I thought the apartment was safe. I guess not.
My gaze returns to Ralpho and Tank. Yeah, I really guess not. In fact, does safe even exist anymore? Did it ever?
“He must’ve just got back,” Benton mutters, his worried gaze skimming toward me and making my nerves double.
“Well, lucky for Jackson, he did.” Ralpho claps his hands together and the brass knuckles clank together, making an ear grating noise. “Now, get the girl out of the car so we can get this done.”
Clenching his hands into fists, Benton twists toward me. Remorse radiates from his eyes as he reaches for the door handle and pulls the door open.
It’ll be fine, he mouths then offers me his hand.
I want to believe him—I really do. And maybe if it were any of the other guys in place of Xavier, I might not be so nervous. But Xavier doesn’t like me. He may have been nice to me this morning, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to be happy about being forced to kiss me.
But, seeing no other choice than to trust Benton again, I place my hand in his and let him pull me to my feet. Then I hold my breath and wait for Xavier to reach us, hoping upon hoping that everything will turn out okay.
Because Jackson’s life might depend on it.
