Page 20 of A Kingpin's Weakness
I half-smiled. “I’m sure you’ve got a few guest rooms in this big-ass house. But nah, I’m okay. I actually want to talk to Jo anyway.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Let me just order my Uber.”
“I’ll take you home.”
“It’s okay.”
“You ready now? I got a meeting soon. I can take you before or after.”
“What kind of meeting?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.
“It’s about Noah. Somewhat.”
“What does that mean, Seth?”
He exhaled. “The streets are hot right now. Cops, opps, I just gotta make sure my people are good. Safe. Getting home to their families.”
I nodded slowly. “I’m ready now,” was all I said as I moved to get up from his lap.
But he pulled me back down gently.
“You sure you’re gonna be okay?” he asked, his voice low.
We were close. Too close. His arms still wrapped around me, eyes locked on mine. I knew I was going through it emotionally, but even through the fog of grief, I couldn’t ignore how fine this man was. The way he held me, how present he was, protective and calm. We sat there in silence, just staring into each other’s eyes.
Seth leaned in just a few inches from my lips. I could feel the moment building, thick with energy. If he kissed me, I wasn’t going to stop him.
Then S3 stirred in his sleep. We both flinched slightly. I jumped up quickly, brushing my hands down my jeans like that erased what almost happened.
“I’ll meet you downstairs,” I said, escaping before I could change my mind.
CHAPTER 6
Seth
The goal was alwaysthe same: make it home.
I stood in the center of the warehouse, eyeing every man in the room, letting the silence stretch long enough to make ‘em uneasy.
“Most of y’all got families,” I said finally, my voice sharp, cutting through the chill in the air. “I got a son. We ain’t got room for dumb moves.”
Ronnie, loud and twitchy as ever, leaned back and took a long drag from his blunt. That shit was laced. You could smell the white girl cooked right into the wrap. His eyes were glassy, unfocused.
“Man,” he said, voice thick, “let’s just call the elephant out in the room.”
Before I could respond, the warehouse door creaked open and Southside walked in, ten minutes late, but with purpose.
“Ain’t no elephant,” he said coolly. “We all know this meeting’s ‘cause of you.”
Ronnie clammed up. The weight in Southside’s voice didn’t ask for respect, it demanded it. He walked over and handed mea duffle. Heavy. The kind of heavy that smelled like new money and closed mouths. We dapped up.
“Thanks for handling that,” I told him.
“Always.” He nodded.
Ronnie muttered under his breath, “Looks like money still movin’.”
