Page 36

36

Raya

I didn’t actually think Mr. Taylor would come over on a Sunday, but here he is, pulling into the driveway two hours after I called and fed him a little damsel-in-distress act.

So easy.

Men are dumb .

I stare out the front window, watching as he cuts the Lexus’ engine and steps out, moving slow on knees that ain’t what they used to be. He straightens and glances at the house, completely unaware of the trouble waiting for him at the door.

The timing is perfect. Ace is somewhere playing basketball with his little friends, sweating and laughing, totally oblivious to what I’m about to do here.

If he’s anywhere near his phone, he’ll get an alert as soon as Jackson rings the doorbell, but it’s fine. In fact, it’s preferable.

I smooth my hands down my sweater dress, adjust my cleavage, and wait.

Ding Dong.

I open the door with a slow, lazy smile.

“Jackson,” I purr.

He stands there, one hand holding his car keys, the other hanging at his side. He has the guns out for me today, bulging in a short-sleeved polo. He takes me in, eyes roaming my body, but he’s careful about it. He schools his expression quick, like he already knows there’s trouble ahead.

But he still steps inside.

Another Monday at this fucking piece of shit school. Ace needs to hurry up and give me my ring already. I’m sick of this shit.

The kids are coloring right now. If you ask me, they need to be reading and doing math. And not just the super smart outliers; the whole class needs to step it up. No wonder America’s so behind. We don’t expect these kids to do shit before five years old.

The demon child is acting a little off today, I noticed. No smart ass comments, no eyerolls. Just sitting there at the table stabbing her crayon against her paper like it personally offended her.

I prefer to ignore things that aren’t my business, but something about seeing her like this rubs me the wrong way. So I drag myself out of my chair and make the short walk across the room.

“What’s wrong with you?” I say, propping my hip against the table.

She lifts one shoulder. “Nothing.”

This little girl stay lying.

I arch an eyebrow and wait. She lasts about three seconds before she cracks.

“I got in trouble at home,” she mutters, still stabbing at the paper.

“What’d you do?”

She chews her lip. “Told my daddy he stank.”

I swallow a giggle. “And?”

“He got mad, and now I can’t have my iPad for a whole week.”

No wonder.

These kids are addicted to their devices.

I’m so tempted to teach her how to get back at him. A few misplaced car keys here, a little toothpaste switched with lotion there. Just enough to even the score. But instead, I literally bite my tongue.

“Look, sometimes you have to know when to stay quiet,” I say. “Actions have consequences. So do words. You spoke your mind, and now you’re paying the price. That’s life.”

Aniya pouts. “But they told me to always tell the truth. Am I supposed to lie sometimes?”

“I didn’t say all that. Just be smart about how you talk to people. Tell them what they wanna hear if it gets you what you want.”

She stares at me, and I can practically see the wheels turning. “Just like you did.”

I wink at her, then smile. “Neither one of us got in trouble, right?”

Her eyes spark with understanding, and I know I’ve imparted wisdom here today.

“Aniya, let me ask you something.”

I don’t know where it came from. Actually, I do. It came from the little girl in me who never got asked the question.

“A few weeks ago, when I told you that it’s okay to not deal with people, you asked if that includes grownups.”

She rolls her eyes in that special, annoying, Aniya way. “So?”

“So…is there a grownup you don’t want to deal with? One that’s bothering you, or making you do something you don’t wanna do?”

“Yes. My parents. Every day.”

I smile. “So you just meant like chores and stuff.”

She nods.

“Mmkay. Just checking.” I watch her start to color like a normal person. “And if there ever is a grownup, or anybody, who’s bothering you in any way, you can let me know. Okay?”

“Yes.”

I’m walking away when I hear her little whisper.

“I still know you said it.”

The early evening air is cool as I coast down the empty lot on my skateboard, black hoodie pulled up, oversized sunglasses shielding my face.

The blond wig itches, but it’ll get the job done.

Kamryn’s Range Rover is parked right where I expected it to be—outside of Rico’s apartment, tucked away from the main road. There’s not a lot of foot traffic out here, but there are plenty of cameras.

That’s what the wig is for.

I slow to a stop, hop off the board, and pull a large water bottle from my bag.

This isn’t about hurting her. Not physically, anyway. If I wanted to do that, I would have finished that job a long time ago.

This is more of a setback for her. A little obstacle to keep her too preoccupied to mind my business.

I envision police reports, insurance calls, trips to the dealership, stress . It’s what she deserves. I really should have done it a long time ago.

I unscrew the cap and tip the bottle, watching the foul-smelling liquid spill across the hood and down the doors, soaking into the tires.

Beautiful.

I reach into my pocket and pull out a pack of matches, striking one against the box. The flame flickers to life, tiny but powerful.

I take a look around, then flick the match.

The fire whooshes to life, bright and angry, licking up the car in soothing waves. I’d stay and watch the flames dance if I didn’t have to worry about getting caught.

Smiling wide, I snatch up my skateboard and push off into the night.

“What was my pops doing here?”

Damn. Straight like that, right when I walk in the front door.

Ace must have just gotten home. He’s still wearing his hoodie, smelling like sweat and faded cologne.

His face is pinched as he eyes me, his gaze lingering on my backpack, which is near empty now—I got rid of my hoodie in a dumpster twenty minutes ago before dropping off my skateboard at home.

He’s so cute, I wanna throw my arms around him and kiss all the sweat off, but I stand perfectly still, frozen like I’m nervous, and say, “What do you mean?”

His eyes narrow. “Why was my father here? As in, for what purpose did he come over?”

I go silent, slowly walking into the kitchen. He’s right on my heels. He’s not gonna be ignored about this.

I grab a bottle of water from the fridge. “How’d you know he was here?”

His nostrils flare, and I know I struck a nerve. “I got a notification when he rang the doorbell. Why are you avoiding the question?”

He’s so sexy when he’s like this.

“Sorry, I’m not avoiding it,” I say slowly. “He…um…he was looking for you, actually.”

I wonder why he’s on ten before there’s anything to suspect. It shouldn’t be a big deal that his father stopped by. They’re close, far as I can tell.

A few moments later, I get my answer.

“I talked to him yesterday and told him I had a game today,” he said. “So, nah, he didn’t come to see me.”

“Oh.” I take a few more swigs, then set my bottle on the counter. “Okay, you want the truth?”

His gaze turns dark. “Don’t piss me off.”

I resist the urge to smile. “He came by to look at my car.”

“Why would—“

“A few weeks ago, after you broke up with me, I went by the dealership,” I say, dropping my voice to a sad tenor. “You had blocked me and you weren’t responding, and I was desperate to figure out if you were okay…” I trail off.

Ace exhales through his nose, slow and sharp. “Why didn’t you mention this before?”

“There was nothing to mention,” I say. “We talked a little, and I told him my car is a piece of crap, and he owns a dealership, obviously. He knows cars. He offered to look at it.” I lower my head, staring up at him through my lashes. “He said he was kinda surprised you hadn’t taken care of it for me.”

Ace’s jaw clenches.

“I don’t think he meant it in a negative way,” I rush out. “Just that he raised you to—no, that’s not…” I stumble over my words carefully. “I don’t know. I don’t—anyway, he came by to look at the car.”

The silence lingers, but I don’t need him to say anything. I can see the frustration all over his face. He wants to trust me, but stuff like this makes it hard. I don’t know if his dad has history, but that seems to be a factor here, too.

This couldn’t have worked more perfectly.

“So why’d he come inside?”

Now, I pretend to be offended.

“Why are you pressing me like this?” I demand. “Did I do something wrong?”

“I don’t know who did what,” he says. “That’s why I’m asking. And if you don’t tell me, I’ll have to find out another way.”

I wait a few beats, then blow out a sigh, dropping my head as I pretend this is the last thing I wanted to happen.

“Ace…” I lift my head, bringing my gaze back to him. “I would never wanna come between you and your family.”

“What the fuck happened?” he says, his voice rising.

I close my eyes, shaking my head, showing him how much I hate having to tell him this.

“Your dad tried to kiss me.”

The room goes still. It feels like the air around us thickens with tension. Ace’s brows knit in confusion, but his fists ball up at his sides, his body clear about what he just heard.

“As soon as it happened, I kicked him out,” I say slowly. “It was…it was scary. I mean, he wasn’t violent or anything. I didn’t feel like I was in danger , but… he definitely made me feel…cornered.”

His breathing deepens, controlled but just barely. “Are you okay?”

I’m taken aback by that question. I expected anger, but I didn’t expect concern. At least not right away. And for a brief second, almost like a flash, I feel guilty for what I’ve done.

But I have to keep my eye on the prize.

I sigh. “I’m okay, I guess. I’m more worried about you. I really didn’t wanna tell you this.”

He nods slowly and reaches for my water. I watch him drink, mesmerized by his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, lowkey turned on by how intimate it feels for us to share one bottle. It’s a little thing, but a big thing.

“I’ll take care of it,” he says, slamming the empty bottle on the counter.

“What does that mean?”

He rounds the island and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me in.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. Especially…you know.”

I frown into his shirt, puzzled until it hits me.

My father.

I’ve worked so hard to block that out, sometimes it feels like it never even happened.

But Ace remembers.

I swallow hard and return his embrace. “It’s not your fault. And honestly, maybe you should just leave it alone.”

He pulls back, staring at me like I have two heads.

“You out your mind if you think I’ma let that shit slide, Raya. I don’t keep peace for the sake of family. Wrong is wrong.”

“It’s your dad.”

“Nah,” he says. “It’s you.”

Fuck.

I don’t know what to do with this. Having a man actually protect me is different. It feels like a new shoe I’m walking around in, testing to see if the fit is right.

“Okay,” I finally say. “I respect whatever decision you make.”

His phone buzzes. He moves one hand from my waist and grabs his phone from his pocket, frowning at whoever’s calling.

“Hold on,” he tells me, then he walks away.

I strain to hear, wondering which family member called to give him the news. Probably his dried up, raggedy mama. I can see her now, looking out the window at the fire with a glass of wine in her bougie hand.

Hers is coming soon.

“I gotta go,” he says as he rushes back into the room. “My sister…something happened. I need to go check on her.”

“Is everything okay?” Like I give a fuck.

He grabs his keys, giving me a brief look of affection. “Hope so. I’ll see you later.”

I smile as soon as the front door closes.

By the time Ace comes back, we should be down an orca or two.