Page 3 of Anything Necessary for Her (Crenshaw Kings #9)

WEEKS LATER . . .

My graduating class, well the ones I was cool with, were throwing a party to celebrate that we were all done with college. It was packed with a bunch of familiar faces, drinks, and weed smoke in the air.

“I hope this shit don’t get in my hair.” Kailey fluffed her curly bun at the back of her head as she switched through, with me beside her.

“It is. Curly hair is like a damn sponge, Kailey.” I adjusted the short dress I had on, feeling my fresh silk press my mama had given me sweep across my exposed back.

“I know. Miss Lisara should’ve squeezed me in,” she joked, running her fresh acrylics through my long hair.

Per usual, every nigga in here was smiling, eyeing, and wearing lustful looks at the sight of Kailey and me.

We hadn’t made many friends in school because of it, and by now, we were so used to bitches hating because their nigga tried to leave them for or cheat on them with one of us, that we paid it no mind.

I never understood us being public enemy number one considering Kailey and I rarely, if ever, fed into the attention from these niggas.

Kailey always liked older guys and rich niggas, so the boys in our class never made the cut.

And as pretty as she was, it was easy for her to pull niggas with paper and well older than us, even when she was underage, just like twenty-nine-year-old Denny.

He was the youngest she’d messed with as far as age difference, since he was only seven years our senior.

As for me, I liked a man who had a certain swag about him and intelligence. Additionally, any nigga that was afraid of my brothers and father or both would never make the cut.

And because most of the men in my high school and college classes would shit themselves if any of the men in my family even spoke their name, I was always single, only having friends with benefits which I wasn’t exactly unhappy about.

Those benefits would only be them spending money to get me food, drive me places, and anything else I wanted them to do.

Fucking wasn’t on the table. I would never fuck a pussy nigga.

By saying that, I was twenty-two and a virgin.

“Over here, baby.” Trayvon, my latest, approached me, kissing the corner of my mouth.

“Who over there?” Kailey looked skeptically, making Trayvon suck his teeth.

I wouldn’t say he didn’t like Kailey, but he felt like she was a bad influence on me. What Trayvon didn’t know was that I was too headstrong to be influenced, period. He should know that better than anyone since he had been highly unsuccessful in trying to convince me to fuck him.

Trayvon, like most niggas, was afraid of my family, and because he refused to meet them, he was just my little friend.

He’d been the longest lasting, simply because of his patience, his looks, and his résumé.

He was tall, fine as hell with dark skin, and an athletic build thanks to being a pitcher for the USC Trojans baseball team, smart as hell, and ambitious.

He was a sure thing when it came to being drafted to the MLB for the Los Angeles Bandanas too.

Trayvon was a hot commodity on campus and could have any girl he wanted who would also give it up to him, but Trayvon was determined to have me. However, he refused to meet my people.

I was used to niggas who were from here being spooked, but considering Trayvon was here on a baseball scholarship from Ohio, I figured he would have no issue meeting my brothers and dad.

I was right until he witnessed Asif bring me food once, and after that, he let every horror story of my family ever told get to him.

I knew we were doomed when a car similar to Asif’s pulled up once and he hopped up from the seat beside me as if the shit was on fire, only to be embarrassed when Kailey told him that wasn’t her man’s car with his scary ass.

“The homies, Kailey. Chill. Niggas ain’t gotta be rich to kick it, do they?” Trayvon led us toward the back where everyone that we knew well were.

“Um, kind of.” Kailey shot me a look that made me giggle.

Trayvon looked at me with a face of defeat as we got to the back den-like room.

He thought Kailey was behind him not being able to make me his officially and fuck me.

He swore she poisoned me against him any chance she got and didn’t believe me when I said Kailey didn’t even think about him.

The most she’d said was he looked like a boring fuck.

“Pretty ass Banks and Kailey.” Our classmate and Trayvon’s teammate Kyle hugged us both.

I chuckled as subtly as I could, seeing Kailey clench her teeth with a frown when he did so. I could already hear her saying he didn’t have enough money or swag for a hug.

As the boys began to talk, Kyle trying to run game on Kailey, she busied herself on her phone while I kept thinking about Low like I had been since Las Vegas.

I could still smell his cologne that peppered the cabin of his Tahoe, his walk, his voice, and the few times I’d been able to pull a smile out of him.

Most of all, I remembered the way he’d sent a tingle to my clit, something no man that hadn’t been on TV had been able to do, hence my lack of sexual experience.

“Now, a word from Mayor Baynard Maddox.” The TV sounded off, catching my attention.

I realized that some people were over on the other side of the den, watching the news, and had the volume sky fucking high.

Why were we watching that shit at a party anyway?

I was about to turn away and suggest Kailey and I step into the backyard, where shit looked live, until a picture of a man I would never forget popped up onto the screen.

“My son Brenden was last seen two weeks ago, when he went to Las Vegas with some friends. He was partying at the Canopy club inside of the Ferrari Hotel one minute and then vanished . . .”

I stood up from my seat as I heard Kailey call my name softly, probably wondering why this shit had my attention when even the people who had turned it on lost interest.

Brenden, aka the attempted rapist from Las Vegas, was the mayor’s son?

“What the fuck?” I mumbled, making Kailey stand next to me and Trayvon hug me from behind. I let it slide because I was too stunned.

“We will be using all resources to find him, hopefully alive. If not alive, whomever is responsible will pay greatly. Brenden was a good boy, and I didn’t want him going to Las Vegas because of the nature of the city.

Looks like I was right.” The mayor got choked up a bit before pulling himself together in a millisecond.

“If you saw or know anything, please contact LAPD or LVMPD. If the leads check out, we are issuing a five hundred-thousand-dollar reward.”

Brenden was far from a good boy, considering he tried to assault me and had coke stains on his nose.

I did everything to keep my jaw from sweeping the floor, because of all the people Low could’ve murdered, it had to be someone important. I wondered if he was seeing this shit, but if not, I would make sure he knew. I felt even worse than I did that night, because this shit was all my damn fault.

“You okay?” Kailey quizzed.

“Ye-yeah. I was just shocked it happened the same weekend we went,” I said.

“Hope you didn’t have too much fun.” Trayvon whispered to me, and unlike any other time, his breath against my ear annoyed the fuck out of me, reminding me of Osiris.

“You just gotta let everybody know you bagged Banks St. Thomas, huh?” A boy named Gary walked up, tipping his red cup and gulping down the contents.

“I do.” Trayvon smirked.

“Except you haven’t.” I moved from his embrace and sat back down at the table. Trayvon joined, along with Kailey and some more people as “Pardon Me” by Lil Yachty blasted.

“All because of that one thing?” Trayvon asked lowly but seriously.

“It’s not just the one thing. It’s important. I’m not gonna be with a man who is afraid of anything.” I took the cup that our other homegirl Princess brought us. She was cool and a lesbian, which was probably the only reason she didn’t have beef with Kailey and me.

“You think yo’ brothers aren’t afraid of shit?” he asked.

“Not other men, I do know that.” I spoke confidently, tasting the strong but good concoction.

Kailey and I made eye contact, both agreeing that it was tasty.

“Yeah, my man Asif ain’t scared of shit!” Kailey shouted, making us all laugh.

Shaking his head, Trayvon replied, “I heard yo’ brother drowned a fish. How the fuck you expect me to meet a nigga like that?”

I hated that we all broke out into guffaws at his statement. Trayvon flashed his sexy smile in response; happy he got the intended reaction out of me.

“Whatever, Tray.” I started to get up because I wanted to go out into the backyard and dance.

Additionally, I had long ago written him off.

He was simply something to bid my time with or do shit for me when I didn’t wanna do it myself, pay for it, or ask my brothers.

Or for shit I wouldn’t ask my brothers for, like the foot massage he would possibly provide tonight after I danced my ass off in these Tom Ford heels.

Like other niggas I’d dealt with in the past, Trayvon was so thirsty to be with me that he did any and everything I asked him to, excluding coming to meet my people.

Grabbing my arm gently, and then immediately releasing me when I shot him a look, Trayvon said, “How about you prep ’em for me, baby? Like, tell them niggas to chill before I come, and I will meet them.”

“No.” I frowned. “You need to meet them as is. You’re acting like they’re serial killers or something.”

Honestly, there was no hope for Trayvon. Even if he met my brothers right now and fit in perfectly, the fact that he refused for so long and was admittedly afraid made me lose any type of long-term feelings I could’ve possibly developed.

“Just a simple?—”

“Let’s go, Banks!” Kailey cut him off, hooking her arm with mine as we danced our way into the backyard.