Page 17 of Between Passion and Revenge, Part One (The Griot Chronicles #1)

SHAE

I would have thought I’d hallucinated from carbon monoxide poisoning or something if I hadn’t woken up the morning after The Incident with my tote bag and Nalgene sitting outside my apartment door.

Grateful we live in as safe a building as we do, I brought my stuff in and am ashamed to admit I stared at both items on my coffee table for a solid thirty minutes before gathering the courage to search through my bag.

I wasn’t looking to see if anything was missing. Instead, I was checking to see if Storm might have left me a message—any acknowledgment that what happened while we were stuck between floors wasn’t just a fluke thing.

I wanted to know if he felt what I did, too.

But why would he? You ran away from him like he had Ebola.

But that was two days ago. Two days of silence. Two days of determining that, regardless of whatever the hell it was that happened between us, I need to stay as far away from Storm Sandoval as possible.

I have goals. I have things I must do—for myself, for my family, for my community. And tying myself up with a rich boy from the north side is the last thing I need.

Like, the exact last thing.

“Would you sit still, please?” Yenn bops me in the head with a Denman brush, and I jerk away from the assault. We’re posted up at the kitchen island as our bathrooms are too small to fit both of us and still be able to breathe with the hot styling tools and sprays.

Yenn pulls on my hair with a gentle tug, and I follow her silent command and straighten before she decides to get truly violent.

“You’ve been weird all week. Is everything okay? Is it classes?” she asks, parting the hair at the nape of my neck to chase the flat iron with a rattail comb. I just continue to sit dazed and off in my own head, unsure how to answer.

India. Arie’s Brown Skin plays from the living room, where Ezra cozies up with his date, Tanner.

They’re about as opposite as can be. Tanner is lithe, a literal dancer in the Dance department at Asheford.

His family is from South Carolina, and sometimes, his accent is so thick it’s hard to understand him.

On the other hand, Ezra is built like a linebacker with broad muscles, and he tops 6?4? easily.

Where Tanner is so white that his foundation shade would likely be the fairest one on any makeup palette, Ezra’s skin is a rich sepia.

I love them together, even though they’ve only been dating for a few weeks, basically since the semester started. What I don’t love is that neither one of them is public with their relationship. The reason why? The very real fear of the implications of their relationship.

I wish things were different for them.

I flinch when a hot curl drops on my bare shoulder blade, but Yenn tuts, and I resign myself to her torture tactics for the next half hour at least.

“Listen, ho. Beauty is pain. Now stop wiggling, or I’m gonna burn your ears on purpose,” she says, punctuating the statement with a pop of her gum.

“Do we really have to do all this? It’s Thursday, not even the end of the school week. Can’t we just go somewhere more laid back where I don’t have to get all greased up like a holiday ham?”

“Thursday’s the beginning of the weekend, babes,” Yenn says.

“Ooh,” Ezra says, and I look at him from the corner of my eye. “Holiday ham.” He smiles for a bit with a wistful look on his face, but it quickly falls. With a grin I’ve come to recognize as fake, he tilts to Tanner and asks, “What are your plans for the holiday?”

Tanner’s face turns sad, and I can’t cry under penalty of burnt ears or worse if I mess up Yenn’s carefully applied makeup, so I focus my gaze on my laptop across the room.

The laptop that pinged not too long ago with an email.

An email that could be from….

Stop thinking about Storm Sandoval. He’s just not that into you.

“Anyway. School? Work? Mom and Pops?” Yenn keeps working on my hair as I think about what to say.

“Everything and everyone is fine,” I say. “I’m just worried about tonight.”

She sucks in a breath and cranes her neck around my shoulder to face me from behind.

“Worried? About tonight? What for?” she bursts out. I shrug and move my body back to its original position.

Looking at my laptop and the notification that could be from anybody.

“I’m out of practice,” I finally confess. “It’s been such a long time since I went anywhere. Well, anywhere that isn’t the pub on the edge of campus.” I shrug again.

“And now you’re dragging me to some fancy-ass place, and I’m a little nervous I’m gonna trip over these damn heels.” I look down at the four-inch stilettos next to the door, and a phantom cramp seizes my toes.

“First,” Yenn says, “You’ll be fine. Second, if we’re gonna get you laid, we’re gonna at least get you someone who isn’t a bum. Hence the location.”

I roll my eyes even though she can’t see me.

“Rich guys can be bums too,” I offer.

Her hands still for a second before she says, “Point well made.”

I splay my hands out, signaling, “Exactly.”

“But at least if you bang a rich fuckboy, Shae, you might also get a Birkin out of it or something,” Ezra throws out.

A quick glance at the couple on the sofa shows Tanner nodding along with Ez.

They’re cuddled beneath a blanket, set to stay in for the evening although Yennifer plans to drag me around town.

Must be nice.

“You guys are shameless,” I say. “Money isn’t everything. I want a good person. Also, I want you to know I’m not having a one-night stand.”

Yenn doesn’t miss a beat. “Okay, so a two- or three-night stand, then?”

Ezra laughs from his seat.

“No, Yenn. I’m not sleeping with anyone tonight.”

Yenn releases a very put-upon sigh.

“ Fine, ” she groans. “But if you find someone who gets your kitty purring, you must and I mean you must not let them get away. Deal?”

She parts the hair near my temple, and I’m very still as she glides the plates over the strands.

“Deal,” I say. “I do want to have fun, Yenn. I… I deserve to have fun.”

Yenn’s hands still again, but this time she’s quiet for so long I tip my head back to see her face. The smile she gives me warms a place in my chest.

“Yes, bestie. You do deserve it.” Her voice is soft for once.

“Plus, you’ve been really busy at work these last few weeks. Which, it seems criminal to even call it ‘work’ because you’re not getting paid,” Yennifer says.

“It is work!” I protest. “It’s volunteer work.”

“Mmhmm,” Yenn grumbles. “Let me just remind you of two things: First, you carry mPOWER, and you do as much work as your boss, only without you being the one out fundraising. I’ll give her that, the girl can hustle.”

I make an affirming sound. Yennifer would know about DeAndria’s fundraising prowess.

My boss managed to get Yenn’s father to donate $100,000 to mPOWER at the last charity auction.

I invited Yenn and her dad, but definitely didn’t expect Daddy Solomon to show or for him to drop a hundred stacks ten minutes after entering just because DeAndria smiled at him.

“And second—” Yenn picks up some edge control and spreads it at my temple. “Slavery ended in 1865. They can’t work you to the bone and tell you to like it.”

Something like heartburn has me taking deep breaths. Yennifer has a point. I should give fewer hours to mPOWER. When I’m not in class, I’m often at the building helping someone, and even when I’m not in a strategy session, I find myself studying there often.

I tell myself being there is better, since no one will burst in the room waving a joint or demanding I watch re-runs of The Game . But the truth is, I like being at mPOWER.

It feels like home in a way that’s new because it’s just mine.

“She’s right,” Ezra pipes up. “Plus, there are laws about this type of shit now, Shae. You gotta stick up for yourself. Don’t let them take advantage of you.”

I’d nod if Yennifer didn’t have a 450-degree tool at my scalp.

They’re both right…but they’re also so wrong, and I don’t know how to make them understand what I feel.

Probably because even I don’t understand.

The computer dings again right as Yenn finishes straightening my hair. She then wraps my locks around my head, securing them with a silk scarf so the body can set while I dress.

“I’m gonna get ready!” she shouts, already bouncing off toward her room.

I stretch when I stand, loosening the tightness in my muscles from Yenn playing Glam Squad.

Ezra and Tanner are in their own world, and I can’t help the pang that settles in my chest when I look at them.

They’re in love. I’m not sure if they’ve said the words to each other yet, but it’s so clear when I look at them together.

Another ping from my computer.

Deciding to leave the couple to themselves, I settle at my computer to check the messages before I head out. I want to leave them, but who am I kidding? If I don’t read them now, I’ll think about them all night.

I’m gonna have fun, damn it.

The first email is from the class ring manufacturer, reminding me to order my ring now so it arrives in time for graduation.

The next is from my father, and my brows bunch the more I read of his message.

I know you don’t check the group thread, but maybe you’ll check your email. I would really like you to come to church this weekend. Your mama needs help with the sick and shut-in visits, and there’s someone I’d like you to meet.

Pain in my left eye socket causes me to check my face, and I realize I’m squinting.

Meet someone? Who?

I almost forget to check the last email when I absently notice the notification icon still illuminated. Popping back over to my inbox, I ready myself to delete another reminder or piece of junk mail when?—

I cover my mouth when a gasp slips out. There are three new emails at the top of my inbox, but my eyes gloss over the other two senders and focus on the one that stands out like a calling card.

From: Storm Sandoval