Page 3

Chapter three

They say you can’t miss what you’ve never had.

But that’s not entirely true, at least it wasn’t for me last night. I laid in bed, tossing and turning, missing the fuck out of something I’d never had.

Technically.

I’d had Santari. I’d had her spectacularly, in fact, and in ways that made me smile at the mere thought of them. But I hadn’t had her to myself yet, something I imagined would be even more amazing.

I had my chance last night, and I fumbled .

It’s not that I didn’t want to. I got hard as hell feeding her, watching her lick sauce off her lips, giving me that look that said she knew exactly the effect she was having on me. It was a go.

But I couldn’t. My head still wasn’t clear.

After she brought him up, it was like the ghost of Revere himself was sitting in between us, cockblocking, as if he didn’t do enough of that when he was alive.

Santari was always off-limits. A beautiful, innocent princess among a feral pack of wolves.

We kept our distance out of respect for Rev, because that's man code. We all know and understand it. But now, we’d defiled her, and the specter of him was a weight pressing down on my ribs, making it hard to breathe.

But my hesitation wasn’t completely related to defiling his little sister.

It was something else.

Something I'd done.

I fucked up.

I didn’t know how, and I didn’t know where, but I knew I did something wrong the night he was killed.

It was my job to cover him. That was how we always handled our shit.

I did everything right, there, I think. But we got sloppy somewhere, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was on me.

The thought gnawed at me, keeping me awake last night, long after I'd gotten home, showered, and laid in bed staring at the ceiling.

I needed clarity. I needed answers. And as much as I was craving another dose of Santari, I had to turn her down and forfeit a solo round with those soft, pouty lips. Her smooth brown skin. Her big brown eyes staring into my fucking soul.

Her perfect pussy.

Santari was a goddess. She deserved better than divided attention. She deserved me whole.

After I got dressed, the bright morning sun followed me down the spiral staircase and into the billiards room, where my brothers had gathered, waiting for Santari to leave before we got down to business .

Cruz leaned back in his chair, boots kicked up on the pool table, eating an apple like we weren’t about to sit here and plan a murder. Titan sat on the other side of the table, flicking his lighter open and shut, the rhythm steady and sharp.

“Good of you to show up, Professor,” Cruz quipped without looking up.

Titan smirked. “We thought you might have been otherwise occupied.”

“Nah.” I dropped into a chair, scrubbing a hand down my face. “Had too much on my mind last night. Had to let her go after we went out to dinner.”

They exchanged glances, which I ignored to ask, “What we got?”

Cruz tossed a manila folder onto the pool table. I snatched it and flipped it open, finding a grainy photo inside. Older gentleman. Gray hair, slight paunch, very expensive suit and shoes. Nothing remarkable, though.

No name.

No details.

Just a target.

I glanced up. “What he do?”

Cruz shrugged. “Does it matter? ”

It didn’t. It never did, and that’s why we didn’t ask. If they were on the list, they had it coming.

But for some reason, I was curious. The only way I could explain that was that I was still a little off my game. Even sitting here in this room with my brothers felt off. Like I didn't fit. Like I wouldn't fit until I figured out what was eating at me.

I studied the photo again. Could’ve been somebody’s granddaddy.

Oh, well. Not our problem.

“We doing this clean or messy?” Titan asked, still flicking that lighter.

“Clean,” I said automatically. “In and out.”

Cruz made a face. “You never let us have any fun, tight ass nigga.”

Well, yeah.

Killing ain’t fun.

I lowkey wished it was . Maybe then I wouldn’t second guess myself so fucking hard.

Sometimes I sit around and ponder the moments when I end someone, wondering what part of the circle of life this shit is and whether I’m a predator, or simply the purveyor of a very violent and very expensive niche service.

This definitely wasn’t the life my parents saw for me. Darius and Whitney had grand plans for me, and I carried them out. They’re proud of their baby boy, but only because I’m a straight arrow in the life they see. This other shit, though…

Every man has two sides, I suppose.

The irony of it all is that they fought hard to keep me away from my father’s criminal side of the family.

Called them hoodrats and degenerates. Them folks lived in backwoods Georgia, laundering money and killing rivals like it was a nine-to-five job.

My pops was the side baby of the man who started that business.

He never wanted anything to do with it, even going so far as to move to Miami to put distance between him and them.

Now, both his half brothers are dead, my grandfather is dead, and I’m a respectable college professor, raised up as the apple of my parents’ eye.

And I happen to do murders on the side.

I tossed the folder back onto the pool table. “Location? ”

“Penthouse suite at the Optima,” Titan answered without looking up. “Old ass motherfucker has a security detail, but it’s light. Just two on rotation.”

I nodded, feeling uneasy. “Who’s lead on it?”

Cruz smirked. “You don’t want it no more?”

“I’m good with whoever wants it,” I said, irritated now. “Just being generous with y’all ungrateful niggas.”

Cruz laughed. “I’ll take it.”

Shit felt so different with Rev gone. Less smooth, really. We'd been four men with four different skillsets that all complemented the others. A well-oiled machine chugging along without issue. Now, we were a near-completed puzzle with a major piece missing, and we'd never be whole again.

With logistics out of the way, I sat back and sighed in frustration. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them my confidence was shaken. I already knew how it would go. They would clown me, then gas me, and I’d pretend everything was fixed while my mind worked overtime to remind me it wasn’t .

They knew me better than anybody else in this world. We had a brotherhood bonded by time, circumstances, and blood.

“Aye, I have a question for you.”

I looked over at Titan, quirking an eyebrow.

“Why did you let Santari go last night?”

I exhaled through my nose. “Told you. I had a lot on my mind.”

Cruz chuckled, tossing his apple core into a nearby trashcan. “Sounds like excuses to me.”

“Does it also sound like it’s ain’t y’all business?”

Titan’s eyebrows went up. “Since when?”

I had to laugh, because, well, fair enough.

As many women as we’d shared, some even right here on this very pool table, it was hella disingenuous of me to act all private now.

I still remember my first time here. I wasn't a virgin or anything; I'd left that behind in my sophomore year of high school.

But my experiences had always been with one girl at a time.

Soft. Intimate. The occasional rough sex, or as rough as a young man had it in him to be. In my case, not that rough.

Then I became a member of Omega Theta Tau.

My first moresome was with Revere and a sorority girl named Erica. I'm not ashamed to admit I was scared out of my fucking mind. Not of her , necessarily, but of the logistics of the whole thing.

It started out awkward as hell, limbs everywhere, me and Rev too focused on not touching each other to please her, the sound of her irritated sighs…it was chaotic, to say the least. But once me and Rev relaxed and stopped trying so hard to avoid each other, shit got good. Real good.

By the end of junior year, we'd run more trains than Amtrak.

I'm not exactly unaware of the homoerotic implications of all of this. I simply choose to see it as a bonding ritual. Only the girls we bonded over were just…girls. Here for a good time, not a long time.

Santari was special.

Cruz grinned. “I'm not trying to get in your business, but is it that you're worried she won’t stick around when she finds out what you like?”

I said nothing.

Cruz leaned in, voice low and amused. “Does she even know?”

I held his gaze. “Not yet.”

Titan clicked the lighter again, stoking a flame this time. “You think she can’t handle it?”

“I know she can handle it,” I said. That wasn’t the issue. I just wasn’t sure I was ready to show her that side of me.

Not many women had seen it. The trust had to be right, and I wasn’t sure I was there with San yet.

I learned that lesson the hard way a few years back.

“Well, look,” Cruz said. “She’s in our world now. And she’s here because she wants to be. I don’t see her judging, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I ain’t worried,” I snapped.

"Santari isn't old girl, either," Titan said. "You gotta let that go."

I blew out an exasperated breath. “Where we at with Rev? ”

Cruz, being used to my bullshit, wasn’t fazed by the abrupt subject change. He put his feet flat on the floor beneath him and sat up straight.

“I’m working on it,” he said. "That shit with Baarbie threw me off. Felt like I was chasing my tail with that shit, and now we're no closer to an answer."

His frustration was palpable.

We were all still fucked up behind Revere's murder.

I was tempted to speak up just then, to let them know where my head was at. It was the perfect time, really, but something stopped me. I should have said something, because in the business we were in, we couldn’t afford to keep secrets. Secrets are life and death matters.

But I just couldn't get the words out.

I’d tell them eventually, once I had the answers.

But getting there…I was gonna have to do that on my own.