Page 16 of The Prodigy 2: Rise of a Queen

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Malika

Jazwasjusthangingup the phone when I came storming down the stairs.

“Did Jakari leave?”

She picked up her bag and stepped into her heels. “Yeah, bout five minutes ago.”

“This nigga left me here,” I said, mostly to myself. To be sure, I walked over to the window and looked outside. Yep. He fucking left me.

“Can you drop me by the apartment?”

Jaz made a face. “Uh, no. I’m headed to the club. But I can drop you after.”

“Which club?”

“Atlanta Nights.”

Yeah, Midling’s wannabe ass had a club called Atlanta Nights. It’s almost embarrassing how hard we ride Atlanta’s nuts.

I thought about it for a minute and made a quick, impulsive decision. I needed a night out, away from Jakari and whatever the fuck was wrong with him.

“Alright. I’m coming with you.”

Atlanta Nights was packed.

I never really clubbed when I was younger, mostly because I couldn’t dance, didn’t have club clothes, and I didn’t have the money to get in. So I was pretty awe-struck when we walked in…past the long ass line outside, thank you very much. Jaz used some of that Windermere clout with the doorman and he let us slide right on in.

Felt good, I had to admit.

“Stay close to me!” she yelled over the music. “We goin’ straight to VIP.”

I couldn’t hide my smile as we made our way through the thick crowd of gyrating bodies. The smells of perfume, cologne, and sweat mingled in the air. Several people stopped Jaz to speak or hug, and those same folks spoke to me too when they saw that we were together. It made me feel…seen. And cool, for the first time in my life.

Once we finally made it to our area, I looked around and felt a twinge of disappointment. I’d always envisioned VIP looking like an elevated platform with a velvet rope around it and beautiful waitresses walking around with bottles with fire shooting out. That’s how it looks on the Gram, anyway. But this was more like a separate area against the wall where only certain people could go. No elevation, no rope. But there was a nice spread of liquor on the table—I say that as a bartender— as well as a bouncer nearby in case something went down.

And food.

My mouth watered from the smell of whatever the group next to me was eating. Dinner at Gab’s was good, but I didn’t eat as much as I wanted because of the stress. I was nice and hungry now, though.

“How do I get food?”

Jaz looked up from preening into her cellphone camera. “Scan the code on the table and order from your phone.”

Nodding, I pulled my cell out. No calls or texts from Jakari. I don’t know why that bothered me. Actually, I do. He took off without me and took the car with him, like he didn’t even care how I got home. I know he said he had a lot on his mind, but we were supposed to be in this together. He was leaving me in the dark. Again.

Whatever.

Maybe I’d get drunk tonight. Take away some of what was onmymind.

Thirty minutes later, me and Jaz danced in our seats as we tore through our calamari, spring rolls, and parmesan fries. The food was amazing, and so were the drinks. I was on my second mojito and already feeling good and loose. I signaled our waitress and made a one with my finger so she could bring me another.

“Ladies.”

I looked up and into the eyes of afinespecimen of a man. He stood out in here, because he was dressed in slacks and a button-down like he had stopped by here after work. I’d have put him at around age thirty or so. Smooth brown skin, a five o’clock shadow, and the tall composure of a man with a good job and a lot of money.

Jaz looked up at him. “What’s up, Dallas?”

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