Page 164 of Tainted

Kross threw his hands up and asked, “How are you?”

“We’re fine. Thanks for asking.”

“If you need anything, you know where to find me.” Kross’s hand patted my shoulder before he turned and headed for his office.

I wasn’t sure if it was my hormones or what, but there was something admirable about the way he was willing to stand in the gap and defend his brother against anyone, including me.

“Let’s get to work, coach!” Rajah sang, climbing on the stage.

Her movements were sharp, and while she oozed sex appeal, something was off. Although she had natural talent, pieces were missing—little things that could have made her performance go from good to unforgettable.

I stopped the music, and Rajah wiped her brow, giving me a frustrated look.

“What am I doing wrong now?” she asked, hands on her hips.

“You’re rushing through the moves,” I said, stepping closer. “Slow down, make them feel every step. You can’t just hit the moves. You have to tell a story with your body.”

She nodded, but I could see the doubt flicker in her eyes. Rajah had raw talent, and the way she moved naturally drew people in, but there were things that only experience could teach.

“Let’s take it from the top,” I said, my voice softening. “This time, I want you to focus on your transitions. Don’t think about the next move while you’re in the middle of one. Stay present.”

Rajah sighed but nodded, resetting herself. As the music started again, she moved confidently, swaying with the beat, but her balance faltered as she went into her spin.

“You’re rushing into the spin, Rajah. Plant your feet first, find your center, and then spin. Otherwise, you’ll lose your balance.”

She tried it again, this time more focused, and her spin was smoother, more controlled.

“That’s better,” I said, smiling. “Now, when you hit the floor routine, don’t just drop into it. Glide. It should be seamless.”

She started over again, and this time, her transitions were cleaner, her movements more deliberate. Each time Rajah finished the routine without interruption, the pride in her eyes flickered. There was no denying Rajah had something special, and with a bit of refinement, she was going to bleed these nigga’s dry come Saturday.

We packed up after that, and Rajah offered to drop me off at Nana’s so I could get my car. The ride back was quiet, and I stared out the window, thinking about how much I missed dancing.

“Now you have to come Saturday and see your hard work in action.”

“I do miss it.”

“And tell Keyes not to start his bullshit either. Do you need me to tell him myself?” Rajah asked.

“No, I can handle Keyes.”

“Oh, we know. Wear that lil’ pudge out too, so Phoenix can be sick.”

“Wow, you’re already using my baby.”

“She’s going to find out anyway. No need to prolong the suffering,” Rajah said, pulling up in front of Nana’s house.

I nodded and unbuckled my seatbelt, “You are crazy. Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem,” she said, reaching for my stomach. “Bye, Titi’s Baby!”

“Girl, move!” I joked, pushing her hands away before climbing out of the car.

My heart sank as I turned toward the house and watched Nana on the porch with Sonya. I walked up the path, trying to shake off my nerves.

"Hey baby," Banana Girl greeted me, motioning for me to come sit.

"Hi, Banana Girl," I said, leaning down to kiss her cheek before nodding at Sonya. "Hey, Ms. Sonya."

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