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“I’ll be asking my mama, so I hope she had some answers for me.”

I shook my head, still laughing, but I hadn’t completely dismissed the idea. Whether Kat knew who our fathers were or not, somebody had to know something. I just wasn’t sure how far I was willing to go to find out.

Chapter Three

Rasheeda ‘Rah’ Brooks

sometime later…

Iwas starting to understand why Tori had been so ready to take her maternity leave. It wasn’t the work itself because we’d been handling this shit together for years. It was dealing with people who wanted money but couldn’t follow simple instructions to get it. I’d spent the first part of my morning reviewing loan applications… verifying income and chasing down clients who apparently thought we were supposed to take their word for everything.

I finished entering some information into the system before checking the time. It was almost noon, and I was supposed to be reviewing another application before lunch. I decided to check on AJ first.

Me: You got your cleats for practice?

AJ: Yeah, Ma. Pops brought them this morning.

Me: Good. What time you getting out?

AJ: 5:30 if Coach don’t have us doing extra shit.

Me: Watch your mouth.

AJ: Ma, I said shit 😂

Me: Say it again, and that’s what I’m gone knock out your ass.

AJ: Aight 😂

I shook my head at his response. That boy was getting too comfortable with his mouth, and I knew exactly where he got it from. Between my brothers, AJ didn’t stand a chance of having a filter. Joni would let certain things slide depending on what mood he was in, while Tae encouraged the shit. The only person AJ wouldn’t dare try that mouth with was GiGi. She didn’t care that he’d gotten tall enough to look down at her. She’d still dog walk his little ass.

I went back to work, pulling up the next application and reviewing the applicant’s income information. I was almost finished when someone knocked on my door.

“Come in,” I called, continuing to look over the numbers.

“Rah, somebody’s here asking for you,” Nia announced.

I looked up from the computer and saw her standing in the doorway. Nia handled our front desk and appointments, so I figured it was probably a client who’d shown up without calling.

“Who is it?” I asked.

“He said it was personal and that you’d know who he was,” she explained.

Before I could respond, a man’s voice came from behind her.

“Damn, Rah. I thought you’d be happy to see a nigga?”

I knew that fucking voice, but there was no way in hell it belonged to the person I thought it did. I looked past Nia, and there stood Dexter… AJ’s father.

I stared at him, trying to figure out what the fuck I was looking at. The last time I’d seen Dexter in person, AJ was two years old, and he was being sent away to prison. Now, here he stood in a black designer tracksuit with an expensive-looking watch on his wrist, grinning like he hadn’t missed the last fourteen years of his son’s life. The few phone calls we’d had over the years had stopped a long time ago, so I hadn’t even known the nigga was out. Judging by his appearance, he damn sure didn’t look like somebody who’d just come home.

“Wassup, Rah?” he greeted, smiling.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I questioned.

“Damn, that’s how you greet your nigga?” he asked.

“My nigga? Nigga, please,” I scoffed, truly disgusted at the sight of him.