Page 48 of Invisible Bars
My arms flinched outward, and my fingers jerked like I was trying to throw something I didn’t even have in my hand.
I stared at him like he’d just unzipped his skin and revealed something monstrous underneath.
Imanio leaned back slightly and calmly said, “Chill, Naji.”
“No! I won’t chill! If you knew all that, then you knew about me, too!Moldy mattress pimp! God, I’ll break your teeth with a Bible!I hope your mama’s Wi-Fi go out during her stories!You tell me to chill after dropping somehuman-trafficking horror storyon me like we’re discussing how horrible I’ve s-s-s-slept these last three nights!”
My eyes watered.
Not from sadness, but from rage.
I felt like I’d swallowed fire and it was clawing its way back up.
“Prison roaches, mother—mff!Are you inon it, too?! D-Don’t lie to me! You knew who I was this whole time, didn’t you? And this is just a p-prettier trap!” I hollered.
“I don’t involve myself in shit that has to do with underage girls or trafficking,” Imanio fired back, almost offensively. “That ain’t my lane. That kind of desperation? That kind of sickness? That shit is for men who ain’t got no backbone or honor. Blu was that kind of nigga.”
I sucked in a breath but didn’t speak.
He continued, tension carved into his face.
“I knew of Blu well before he ever came to me asking for a favor. I found out what he was into when one of the girls went missing a few years back, and one of my sources pieced it together. I didn’t go digging for that info—it landed on me through the grapevine. So, yeah, I knew he had girls staying there before you, and that he told people it was an older womanliving there to keep suspicion low. But the lie he fed the girls—pretty, desperate, looking for somewhere to stay—was different. That was his way of reeling them in. But the last I heard of him being tied up in that type of shit was at least two years ago. And even then, I only knew because it was brought to my attention—not because I went out seeking answers.”
Imanio looked me dead in the eyes.
“So no… I didn’t know you staying there until that night. I didn’t know shit about you. I didn’t know you had Tourette’s, or that you love peppermint tea. You were innocent in all of this. But I knew Blu… and I knew he wasn’t shit. That was enough for me to make a decision.”
I stared at him, breathing heavy.
“Go to hell—wait, come back—I ain’t done yelling!”
He didn’t react.
“If I was involved, Naji,” he said low, “you wouldn’t be in my crib living your life like it’s golden. You’d be in a cage somewhere heading across the country.”
That stilled me. I hated that he was right. I hated that situation, as twisted as it was, might’vesavedme from something worse.
My breath caught somewhere between panic and exhaustion as the words tumbled out, barely above a hush.
“I… I don’t know what to believe anymore.Pickles and pipe bombs!”I grumbled. “I…I lived there for three years… three years! Why wouldn’t he try something with me?”
“Maybe he had a soft spot… maybe your condition made you unpredictable… or maybe he actually liked you; not enough to protect you, but enough not to cross a certain line.”
My body twitched—shoulder jerking upward sharply as I blurted,“Sick bastard Sunday soup!”
I refused to look at him.
“I swear… I’m not trying to be difficult,” I said, voice small. “It’s my brain! It’s like... it gets l-loud when I need it to be quiet… especially around you.”
“It’s cool. But what I told you is valid… all of it.”
I lifted my head and met his gaze. “You… you really think he would've done that to me eventually?”
He shrugged. “I think if the right buyer came along and he was broke enough… maybe. But he didn’t, and he won’t. That chapter is closed.”
I pushed my plate back and sat there stunned.
Everything IthoughtI knew about Blu—about that little rundown building—felt like a lie wrapped in drywall.
