Page 74 of Disrespectfully, Relic
“Fifty-one, and in the event that you get arrested or killed, I get the remainder with no stipulations.”
Relic hadn’t experienced that gut-coiling, chest deflating reaction in a while, but her recommendation siphoned it out of him. He released her chin as distrust followed. Her eye contact he’d once loved returned, but that shit seemed more like a threat that she’d bring those terms to fruition than boldness as they waited for each other to fold. He’d always believed he was better at it until her dark, upturned eyes glazed over with tears he couldn’t stomach when he usually didn’t give a damn about hurting feelings. Relic lifted her from his lap as the sound of water splashing nearby gave him an out.
He stood and walked toward the swim platform, tracking the boat nearing his at a high speed that would’ve worried him if he hadn’t grown used to it. Just as it seemed like it’d collide with his cruiser, it hit a sharp turn while a duffel flew out and landed on his boat with a hard thud. Relic barely saw the person who’d thrown it and didn’t care to. He picked up the bag and strolled to his grill he’d never used—flipping open the top to remove the cooking grate before unzipping his duffel. His eyes flitted to Kennedy as he began dropping the bricks of cocaine into its empty center.
“We’ll meet with my lawyer to have your agreement put in ink tomorrow,” he told her, catching the flicker of indecision that swept across her beautifully scarred features. Relic huffed a breath and turned away.
Kennedy observed him while trying to suppress the erratic emotions she was feeling, but they resurfaced with each shaky breath. Relic had explicitly proven that he didn’t give a damn about her by tossing her into the middle of his ploy, but a part of her wondered if she’d mislabeled his uncaring request. It could’ve meant trust. The same trust that he’d need to have in someone to show them his pickup location and where he stashed over a half million dollars in pure cocaine. Relic’s words and actions weren’t coinciding, and Kennedy had no damn clue which one to believe.
Relic had fuckedup when he gave Kennedy a credit card with no limit. A smirk stretched her glossed lips as she pictured his reaction to the dent she intended to make from her impromptu shopping spree that, according to Captain Tolliver, she deserved. Her eyes traced her shape in the white and lime green backless tennis dress that clung to her breasts and cinched waist while enhancing her thighs and ass. The exposed scars on her arm made her eyes roll before she shimmied out of it to toss in her purchase pile. Kennedy doubted she’d wear it, but the five-hundred-dollar price tag convinced her to cop it anyway.
“You aight in there?”
She froze at Lomar’s voice before rushing to slip on her jeans and tug her shirt over her head. Kennedy had blocked the day from client appointments to get her mind right, and he’d invited himself to meet her after she told him about her shopping plans.
“I’m coming out now,” she answered, stuffing her feet into the fresh sneakers her nephew had gifted her that morning just because.
As she scooped up two armfuls worth of clothing, the fact that she’d dug into Tekken’s ass for selling drugs crossed her mind. Kennedy had been so pissed with him for taking a path he didn’t have to, yet she’d turned around and did the same for Relic while knowing better. Her insistence to help a damn near stranger not end up like her brother had placed her between a rock and a hard place. Her head shook before she unlocked the dressing room door, strolling out while chastising herself for accepting a nearly impossible task she should’ve run from.
At the sight of her, Lomar stood from the small couch he occupied and grabbed her purse while hooking the bags she’d purchased prior on his arm. He eyed the newest items from her shopping binge.
“You’re getting all of that, too?”
“Yep. This is the last store, I promise. I need to get home because I still have to do my hair and figure out what I’m wearing.”
“Well, shit. One of the two won’t be a problem.” He held up the multiple bags, making her laugh as they meandered through the store and to the register. “Where did you say you were heading tonight again?”
“I didn’t say.”
Lomar chuckled and replied, “Let me rephrase that. Where are you heading out to tonight, mama?”
“If you must know, I’m going to the bar with one of the girls from the label.”
“Oh, word? Which one?”
“The one I’m going with,” she quipped, smirking as they moved up in line. “No, but for real, it’s the one who sings. Saucy. I don’t know her that well, but it’s kind of a business thing, so I don’t have much of a choice.”
“What do you have to do with the label? I thought that was your nephew’s lane. I didn’t know you were involved in that, too.”
“I wasn’t but...” Her sentence broke off as she searched for the best description of the unconventional arrangement Relic had conned her into. She found nothing.
“Oh, I get it. That nigga must got a thing for you, huh?”
“What?!” she shrilled, sputtering a laugh. “Hell, no. Relic has a million bitches to worry about, and I’m not one of them.”
“That’s what you think. I can bet you a hundred dollars he’s trying to make you his one million and one. Why else would he have his artist’s aunt that does hair doing shit for his label? If he ain’t sending her to sit in that salon chair you stay behind every damn day, then it doesn’t make sense, and you ain’t blind, Kennedy. I know you peep game when you see it.”
Her mouth pursed to not smirk and confirm his suspicions as she tossed her final round of clothing onto the counter when the sales associate fanned her forward with a smile. Kennedy watched the price on the monitor shoot up as the cute blonde with eyes that reminded her of Relic scanned the tags on her items.
“If that nigga is trying to press up on you, I ain’t worried about it.” Lomar circled back to their conversation as he leaned against the counter with a smug grin.
Kennedy slit her lids and folded her arms, giving his strapping build donned in a simple tracksuit a once over of appreciation before settling on his handsome face. That mischievous dimple materializing made her giggle.
“Why aren’t you worried, Lomar?”
“Because I feel like you have a type, and he ain’t it. I can’t see you ever fucking with a nigga who got his chain snatched but ain’t do shit about it.”
And just like that, her amusement vanished.
