Kiss the Ring (25 page)

“Exactly,” he said, his eyes locked on the girl down below.

Naeema had to admit that White Girl had soul and was getting it
in
on the dance floor.

“Did you tell Red?” she asked.

“Did I tell Red what?” he asked, distracted by the Great White Power.

“About Viv and Brandon.”

Naeema didn't know if she had truly seen someone shocked until that very moment. He gave her a chastising look before he glanced around to make sure no one had heard her.
It feels good to be right. Who better to brag to than the biggest dick slinger you know?

“Man, leave that shit alone before you get Viv fucked up real proper. Real real proper.”

“Like Brandon?” she asked.

Fuck it. I'm sick of this shit.

Hammer frowned. “Nah. They ain't fuck with that.”

“I'm not saying shit but I could see if the man did. That's fucked up. Right?”

Hammer looked down at her. “How you know?”

Naeema made a face like
Who you think?

He nodded in understanding. “Little man couldn't have come to this but he woulda been to the church first thing asking us about what all went down,” he said, looking down into his glass of brown liquor before he downed it in one gulp. “It don't be the same around the church without him there fucking with us.”

“Y'all were like his family,” she said, giving in to the truth.

“And we let him down,” Hammer said, walking back over to the table to re-up his drink.

As soon as Hammer moved away, Bas moved to her side to take his place and stood behind her with his arms on either side of her body as he gripped the railing. “You look good in that dress . . . but you look better out of it,” he whispered just below her ear before he lightly bit her neck.

Naeema shivered and leaned back against him because he expected her to make such a show of her possession of him. On the real, her thoughts were heavy because everyone was fronting like Brandon was truly one of their own and they wouldn't hurt him.

Had his death been a random act of violence?

Did she just waste precious months out of her life going down a dead-end road?

Or . . .

She glanced over her shoulder at Red. She felt a true chill to find his eyes were already locked on her and Bas. She gave him just as hard a stare back before turning to press her hand against the side of Bas's face and kissing him. “Thank you,” she said against his lips before she kissed him again.

“Those lips. Those lips,” he said. “Them some bad motherfuckers.”

Naeema blushed because she knew exactly which heated moment he was referring to from the night before. “Later,” she promised.

Bas smacked her ass before he moved back over to his seat. She looked on as he and Red lowered their heads together to talk.

“Excuse me.”

Naeema turned to find their personal hostess, Ashia, standing behind her with an empty tray in her hand. “Yes?”

“Hello, Queen. There's a gentleman downstairs who keeps asking to be let up. He says he knows a Naeema that's in your VIP section,” she said.

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. Fuck! I shoulda known I would run into somebody in one of these damn clubs! Fuuuuuuuuuuuuck!

Her heart was pounding so fast as she looked down at where Ashia pointed.
Motherfucking Mone. His yellow ass gon' get both of us killed
.

Naeema reached into her purse and pulled out a fifty-dollar bill, then slipped it to Ashia. “That's for you,” she said. “He has me mistaken with someone else but I will tell him that myself so that he stops harassing you.”

Ashia slid the folded bill into her pocket. “He's no problem.”

“I'll tell him. Let's go,” she said, already turning to walk away.

“I'll be right back,” she mouthed to Bas as Ashia hurried around her to lead her to the elevator.

They rode the elevator in silence and Naeema fought to
stay calm. She wouldn't put it past Bas to come behind her or send Red to see what she was up to.

Ashia led her right to him and then walked away.

“Naeema,” Mone shouted, a big goofy grin on his face. “I thought that you with all that ass.”

She grabbed his arm and pulled him behind her toward the exit. “Mone, shut the fuck up and listen to me. You got to get your ass out of here quick or you gon' get both of us fucked up,” she said, her voice urgent.

“Yo, Naeema, you need me to flex on a fool?” he asked, jumping around and air-boxing.

She glanced up and saw Bas and Red standing at the rail looking down at them. “This ain't no fucking joke, Mone. Damn,” she said irritated as hell.

He got serious at the look on her face. “Yo, you a'ight?”

Naeema pressed her hand to her chest. “I'm a'ight and you gon' stay a'ight if you get the fuck out of here right now,” she said, pointing to the exit. “I'm dead-ass serious. If you don't leave and get the fuck away from this entire club quick as fuck you gon' be a dead ass. Don't even wait for a cab out front. Go!”

She looked again and Red was no longer standing by Bas. She knew he was on the way down.

“I'll tell you all about it Monday at the shop. I promise,” Naeema said.

Mone looked conflicted as hell but at the look she continued to give him, he turned and rushed through the bodies. Her eyes followed him until she saw him disappear out the front door.

Naeema turned and waved up at Bas with a smile. He didn't wave back.

“I love your dress,” she said to some random girl standing by her. She was stalling from going back upstairs and possibly missing Red try to go behind Mone.

“No, your dress is
beau
-ti-ful,” the girl gushed.

“Thanks,” Naeema said, spotting Red stepping off the elevator into the lounge area/waiting room for the VIP section.

She moved past the woman and stepped in front of Red. “Bas said this dress would be trouble,” she said, shaking her head as she raked her fingernails through the long inches of her weave.

“Who was that?” he asked.

“My cousin,” she lied. “He wanted to join the party upstairs. Didn't want him to overhear the wrong shit. Right?”

She eased past him and then purposely tripped and fell.

Red stepped over and held out one big hand to help her up.

“Thank you,” she said. “No more champagne for me.”

He turned and walked out of the lounge.

Naeema followed him but as soon as he stepped out the door, it seemed he turned and came right back in just as quickly.

Mone's ass had to be gone. Thank God.

She walked back to the lounge and summoned the elevator. The door opened as he stepped back inside next to her.

They rode back upstairs in silence.

• • •

They got back from the club in the early hours of the morning. Naeema feigned being drunk and was glad Bas went
straight to bed too. As soon as she heard the steady in-and-out breathing of his sleep, she climbed out of the bed and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She wished she was home in her own bed.
My own life.

Although she'd already been over the updated police file a dozen times, she knew she would have to look through it again to see if she was wrong about nothing being different but the info on the cell phone vic, just like Tank told her. There wasn't shit else.

A waste of fucking time.

The police were doing worse than her in flushing out Brandon's killer.

Maybe I shoulda just put a bullet in each one of their heads and said fuck this espionage bullshit.

But then she shook her head as a tear raced down her cheek because that was not true at all. If nothing else, she knew more about her son than ever. She had his ring, his pictures, she'd met the girl he'd loved. She had more than she knew she even fucking deserved.

Naeema left the bathroom and tiptoed to the bedroom to make sure Bas was still stretched across the bed naked. She walked into the living room and dug her touch-screen phone from inside her pocketbook, where she kept it along with the gun. She swiped to the photos of Brandon she'd saved from his Facebook page. “I'm getting tired,” she whispered to a photo of him smiling with his arms outstretched. “I don't know why I thought I could do this.”

She stood there in the darkness of the small living room, swiping through each photo and wishing she had stood up sooner and made herself known to the only child she would ever allow herself to birth.

No second chances at motherhood.

Her shoulders drooped as she continued to swipe through each photo. Each one not so different from the last. A smiling teenage boy who seemed to love girls, hip-hop, and . . .

Wait . . . wait . . . wait.

Naeema went through each picture again and each time there was a commonality that couldn't be ignored. Her heart pounded and she felt jittery as she zoomed to one of the pictures and waited for it to become clearer.

The answer to it all had been sitting right there the whole time.

Naeema tapped her nail against her teeth as her mind raced.

“Queen.”

She dropped her phone inside her purse and pretended to search through it. When she turned, Bas was damn near standing right behind her. She prayed he didn't see the tremble in her hands. “I wasn't sleepy,” she said, forcing her emotions down until they almost choked. “I was looking for the blunt Nelson gave me. I was gonna blaze it for the last hoorah for my birthday but I can't find it.”

“Good. Who knows what the fuck Nelson had laced in that shit,” Bas said, pulling her against his chest.

Naeema wanted to flinch from his touch but she took a deep steady breath to get her shit together.

It's almost over. A gun will do the rest. Finally.

15

“I
just checked, the house is still up for sale.”

Naeema looked up at Bas leaning in the doorway to the bedroom as he looked down at where she sat on the edge of the bed. “You really got enough money saved up for the down payment?” she asked, fighting through the numbness she felt.

“Down payment?” he balked. “Nah. Cash deal. In full.”

Crime pays.

“Matter fact, the fellas and I are meeting. Time to put in work,” he said.

No, it's time to put a body in the ground.

She nodded but she didn't have zero fucks to give about the next move of their little crime syndicate.

“I gotta make a run,” he said, scooping up his keys. “You want me to bring you something back?”

Naeema looked up at him and shook her head. “You meeting up with the crew now?” she asked, seeming calm even as one hell of a storm brewed inside of her.

“Nah,” he said. “Not 'til tonight.”

Damn.

“A'ight,” she said.

Moments later he was gone. As soon as she heard the door shut she hopped up to her feet and grabbed her cell.
First she called for a cab and then she called Ms. JuJu, all as she made sure she left nothing behind. Every single thing Bas had purchased for “Queen,” including her entire outfit from the night before, she left in a neat pile on his bed.

“Naeema?”

“How you doing, Ms. JuJu?” she asked as she walked to the door and left the house without looking back one last time.
I'm free.

“My arthritis been acting up and the doctor said—”

“Ms. JuJu, did Brandon have on his chain the night he was killed?” Naeema asked, knowing she was being rude.

“He sure did. I just assumed it was stolen that night.”

“It was, Ms. JuJu. It was,” Naeema said, as the cab pulled up and she opened the door to climb into the back. “Let me call you back.”

“How you been, Naeema?”

“I'm better now.”

“Good.”

“Bye, Ms. JuJu,” she said. “And thank you.”

Naeema ended the call as she settled against the backseat of the cab.

“Where to, ma'am?” the driver asked, looking at her in his rearview mirror.

She started to give her own address but caught herself. The charade was over but she still didn't want to be tracked down, especially when Bas realized that she was gone. For good.

Don't lose it, Naeema. Play this shit smart.

“Newark Penn Station,” she said.

She had the upper hand and she had to use it to her advantage.

She looked out at the beautiful sprawling homes lining the streets of Forest Hill, but her focus wasn't on them. Naeema was on the hunt for a killer and now she had her focus locked on the right target.

Lying motherfucker.

Last night, for the first time, she had noticed that Brandon wore his ring and a long gold necklace with a lion medallion in every damn picture on his Facebook. Every single one. But the fact hadn't really mattered to her until she realized that she'd seen that same chain on his killer earlier that night.