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“What we doing tonight?Good cop/bad cop? Two bad cops? Old school dads? Gentle parenting? What’s the plan?” Targen asked as he slammed the door on my Wagoneer a little too hard.
I scowled at him immediately. “You a lil’ too excited, ain’t you?”
He shrugged in his usual, no-fucks-to-give way. Targen Jones was my day one, business partner, right hand, and co-enforcer when my family’s business required it. He had the same nonchalant attitude about any of those positions.
“I’m just sayin’. You know we gotta put on a united front with Gin and Syn.”
He wasn’t lying. My twin goddaughters Reginae and Reasyn, aka Gin and Syn, were fourteen and hard-headed as fuck. Their father had been killed a few years back, and their mother Naqeesa was about ready to adopt them out. She’d called earlier, sounding exasperated and pissed the hell off.
“If y’all don’t come get these little motherfuckers,” she had railed.
So, I was on my way to get them little motherfuckers before I had a double funeral to plan.
“What they do now? And why I gotta go, again?” Targen asked.
“Snuck out and some other shit,” I muttered, shaking my head. “You going cuz they listen to me, but they know they have me wrapped around their little fingers. They like you, but you still scare the fuck out of them.”
He sucked his teeth. “So, you got me out here terrorizing children? That’s what we on?”
“Ay, if it works, bad as these little jits are these days, I’m all for it.”
Targen was quiet for a minute, but I knew that couldn’t last. “I thought you had forgot your mission for a minute there. You made a beeline for that table— I ain’t never seen you move that fast.”
I glanced at him from my peripheral and saw the smirk on his face.
“I mean, you have to admit, shorty was exquisite.”
“Exquisite and looking like she didn’t have time for your bullshit. I was like, I know my nigga’s game ain’t got this weak.”
“Nah, never that.”
He wasn’t wrong about her attitude, though. Ms. Ev played like she wasn’t feeling me, even though her interest was obvious in those pretty, honey-colored eyes and in the language of that deliciously thick body. Maybe she was trying to show Marlon Childress respect. That thought had me squeezing my steering wheel so tight, it was sheer luck that I didn’t crack it.
“Settle down, partner,” Targen jibed. “We gotta deal with the little ladies first, then you can figure out how to bag that fine specimen of grown womanhood.”
I shot him a glare. “Why you looking?”
“Shit, cause I got eyes.”
“Shut the fuck up, man.”
He chuckled. “Since you asked so nicely…”
He inserted a pair of earbuds, and a second later, I heard the muted sounds of The Isley Brothers. I was glad for the reprieve, but it didn’t stop me from thinking about Ev and her response. I was definitely going to have to follow up on that.
By the time I let myself into Naqeesa’s place, she was sitting on the couch in a yellow robe, watching some game show, and gulping from a glass of Stella Rosa.
“Whoever made low alcohol wine, obviously didn’t have teenagers,” she groused.
Her face lit up when Targen strolled in. She ran a hand over her braids and smiled as she swirled the wine in her glass.
“We just had dinner and look at you bringing dessert. See, that’s why this friendship been solid since middle school.”
I shook my head. “Don’t start your shit, Qees.”
She kissed her teeth. “Why you always blocking, Montréal Hamilton? Anyway,the girls up in their rooms. Targen, you wanna go up to mine?”
Targen’s laugh was his only response. There wasn’t a need for more. Despite the way she was putting on, Qees was teasing. She was all about her children and her work as a defense attorney. I knew my girl probably got her needs met, but she wasn’t interested in anything more.