Page 13 of Truth

His jaws tightened, and I frowned. The hell was wrong with him?

“He’s coming, Truth,” Germaine spoke slightly out of breath. “Give him a minute.”

“Remember what I said.”

My brother nodded like a damn bobble head. Ugh, I was so upset.

“I hear you. Let me get back to work, but I’m glad you came through. Shop’s doing well. Plenty of business.”

“I see. Proud of you.”

Truth’s eyes surveyed his surroundings once more until they landed on mine when I kissed my teeth. It didn’t matter who he was, I wasn’t one of those little bitches that would be at his beckand call like the thirsty gang behind him. He chuckled, and I rolled my eyes.

“Is there a problem?” I muttered without lifting my head.

“Naw.” He tapped on the counter. “You could try smiling. I’m sure you’re prettier when you do.”

I didn’t have a quick comeback, so I tucked my lips and sat like a mute. My skin flushed as I felt his eyes roam over me. That, however, was short lived when one of those birds rushed to the counter and sucked her teeth.

“Can you check to see when Drake will be ready for me?”

I suspected she was one of his situations. Whatever she was didn’t earn her an express pass to his chair when he looked up and waved her off.

“Checked,” I replied and giggled.

Her neck and eyes rolled so hard I felt myself spinning. That was proof that men like Drake and Truth weren’t worth the trouble. I had my own issues, like trying to sleep at night without waking up in a cold sweat.

“That’s you?” he asked.

I looked up, forgetting he was still there. He was quiet like a fucking cat. My brows dipped in the middle of my forehead, wondering who he was referring to.

“Drake?” Immediately, I was annoyed. “And why would that be important for you to know?”

He laughed then tapped the counter.

“Never mind.”

He eased by the bitch that was just there waiting for Drake. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of Truth, and sadly, neither could I. He pushed open the door, and when he hooked a right, he caught me staring again.

Damn. I really do hate myself.

“I’m out.”

I slid my heat in my waist and pulled my shirt over it. Charlene slid her hand around my wrist, halting me. I had to make my way to the hospital. I didn’t even try to stay overnight. I’d had my ear to the streets, and for me, the streets were too quiet. I understood why Truth hadn’t bled the streets, but Genevieve wasn’t just a bitch—She was my heart.

“So, does that mean I won’t hear from you? I also didn’t exactly receive an invite to the annual race fundraising event.”

I chuckled. Charlene knew what it was between us. She was my old work that refused to let go. Once she moved out East and cut me off, any feelings I had moved on with her. For some reason, she all of a sudden missed Rockside which led to her returning six months ago. The small yet most important detail was that she was in love with a DP. She called it a coincidence, claiming she didn’t know. I called it suspect but fuck her. She wasn’t my woman. She was a distraction, some pussy I fell into because I was in my feelings... about Gee. That’s what I called Genevieve.

“It’s a public event. If you’re fucking with the Saints and plan to donate, you don’t need an invite.”

I pulled my cell phone out and checked in with Rowdy Red. We called them that because once angry, even somewhat annoyed, that nigga was bashing heads and did as one of our enforcers. He’d been sitting at the hospital with Gen since I’d left last night. She was up and giving those damn doctors and nurses hell. She even cursed me out when I showed up. Instead of wringing her damn neck, I decided to put some space in between us. Her ass wasn’t happy that she wouldn’t be going home once discharged. I broke the news, hoping she’d understand. Her response was to ask security to put me out as if that shit was even possible.

I wouldn’t lie. I was in my feelings because that nigga Charlie that she called her man ran like a bitch at the sight of me whenever I came by to see Genevieve. He was a straight cornball, suit-wearing motherfucker that worked down at the city in the tax office. I only allowed him to live because he looked out for the Saints when it came to that tax bill. We paid our way, but a friendly discount never hurt.

On the way home, I stopped byShorty’s, a spot owned by Rejon, a Saint Rider, to grab some ribs. You know off rip that was Saint territory, and for some reason, Charlene decided to make an appearance. She’d been gone for about seven years, but news spread fast. I heard she had returned. It was only a matter of time before she found me since I moved from where we lived together.

“Then I guess it’s a date.”

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