Page 148 of Invisible Bars
“Naji, it’s cool… I get it,” he assured.
The room fell quiet again, our attention wavering back to the movie flickering on the screen, though neither of us was really watching it anymore. The weight of the moment lingered in the air between us, charged and almost tangible.
As the credits rolled and the screen faded to black, I rose from my seat, stretching my arms overhead to relieve the tension that had built up during the film.
Imanio cleared his throat, drawing my attention.
“Question,” he began, hesitating for a moment, as if the words were heavy on his tongue. “How would you feel about… moving into my room?”
I paused mid-stretch, my heart skipping a beat. The unexpectedness of his proposal caught me off guard.
My head jerked and hands twitched as the words flew out of me.
“Somebody hide the remote before I hump it!”
“Like… you mean us s-sleeping together? In the same bed?”
I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but the possibility sent a flutter of excitement through me.
“I mean, yeah, but only if you want. You’d still have your own space and all that. I’m just… trying to get you options.”
I didn’t answer right away.
“I’ll… I’ll think about it,” I replied, stepping toward the door. “Goodnight, Imanio.”
“Night, Naji.”
As I walked back to my room, I didn’t know if it was the warmth from the blanket, the snacks, or the man behind it all—but I felt… happy. Like maybe, just maybe, Imanio was finally starting to come around. And that alone was enough to make me smile.
Chapter Twenty-Two
IMANIO “GATEZ”
The wind whipped hard atop the rooftop, fluttering the edges of the man's crisp Balenciaga tee like a surrendering flag. Blood streamed from his nose, dripping onto his designer loafers—once pristine, now smeared with red and dust from the concrete. He was rich, no doubt. But money didn’t mean much when a muthafucka was dangling between life and death.
I stood unmoved, clad in a dark hoodie and gloves despite the summer heat.
“You got three damn phones but couldn’t make one call?” My voice was low and lethal; each word cut sharper than the last.
The man whimpered, stumbling backward until his designer soles kissed the edge of the rooftop.
One slip and he’d be airborne—no screams… just splatter.
“I swear I was gon’ bring it next week, Gatez?—”
Before he could finish, I lunged forward, gripping his gold chain and yanking him close like dead weight.
“I don’t do next week,” I hissed, my face inches from his, close enough to smell the fear soaked into his expensive cologne. “You had a deadline and you missed it! So now I get to choose what you will miss—your fingers, your teeth, or your damn pulse.”
“No please!”
“I don’t want no fuckin’ plea!” I roared, voice cracking against the night. “I want consistency! Loyalty!Money!In that order!”
I leaned in again, softer that time—deadlier.
“I always give a warning before destruction. And since this is yourfirsttime trying to fuck me over, consider this yourfinalone. So nah, I ain’t gon’ kill you today... but I’m also not giving you another fuckin’ week to get my money. You gotthree days.And after that? If that clock hits midnight and I still don’t have my shit, I won’t just find you, I’ll burn through your bloodline. I’ll make yo’ mama regret ever pushing you out, make yo’ baby mama relocate, and make yo’ lil’ cousin quit middle school from PTSD. I’ll choke yo’ name out of people’s mouths. Nobody will say they knew you because you won’t exist.”
The man stood there, visibly trembling, his body wracked with uncontrollable shivers. His breath came in sharp gasps, reminiscent of a busted motor.
