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“Tahari.”

I looked back at her.

“Promise me you won’t hurt him.”

For a second, I couldn’t answer. Not because I didn’t know what to say, but because I knew exactly what I was about to do.

“I promise.”

Relief softened her face, and guilt twisted through me because I knew damn well I had just lied straight to her face. I wasn’t looking for Ghost to have a conversation. That opportunity had come and gone the second he pointed a gun in Mali’s direction. If Mr. Browne hadn’t been there, the woman I loved could’ve been the one taking three bullets. Instead, her father had nearly died protecting her. I had watched what that did to Mali. Watched her pretend she wasn’t scared while avoiding the driver’s seat for three fucking weeks.

Ghost being my brother didn’t change any of that. Ms. Gia being a second mother to me didn’t change that either. I hoped like hell that she didn’t think any of that held any kind of weight after what he had done. We had called each other brothers before we ever knew we shared blood, and somehow finding out it was real had only made the betrayal worse. Out of everybody in this world, that nigga knew what Mali meant to me. He knew what walking away from the streets had cost me. He knew the life I was trying to build, and he still decided his anger mattered more than all of it. I hated lying to Ms. Gia. If it had been anybody else sitting across from me, I wouldn’t have bothered.

But I needed that address. And when I found Ghost, hurting him was the least of what I intended to do. Ms. Gia sat quietly for a moment, studying my face. A small part of me wondered if she could tell I had lied. She had caught Ghost and me in enough bullshit growing up that I wouldn’t have been surprised. Eventually, she stood.

“Wait here.”

I watched her disappear down the hallway. A few minutes later, she returned with her phone in her hand and sat back down. She scrolled for a while before stopping on something.

“I don’t even know if this is still her address,” she said.

She hesitated before turning the phone toward me. I pulled mine out and copied the address into my notes. Seeing it sitting there on my screen made something settle inside me for the first time in three weeks. It wasn’t proof that Ghost was there, but it was something.

A person connected to him that I didn’t even know existed.

“You sure they still talk?”

“The last time I saw her name come across his phone was a few months ago.”

That was good enough for me. I stood and slipped my phone into my pocket. Ms. Gia stood too.

“Tahari.”

I stopped near the door and turned around.

“If he is there…” She paused, and the worry in her face made it hard to hold her eyes. “Tell him to call me. Tell him I don’t care what he’s done or how much trouble he’s in. I just need to hear his voice.”

“I will,” I said as I nodded.

At least that promise wasn’t a lie. I intended to tell him that she wanted to hear from him right before I put a bullet between his eyes. She walked me to the door, and before I could reach for the handle, her arms wrapped around me. The hug caught me off guard for half a second before I hugged her back.

“Be careful,” she whispered.

“I got you.”

She pulled away and touched my cheek the same way she had done a hundred times when I was younger. I left before the guilt sitting in my chest could get any heavier.

By the time I made it back to my car, I already had the address pulled up on my phone. I stared at it through the windshield, thinking about how close Ghost and I had been for most of our lives. I knew shit about that nigga nobody else did, and he knew the same about me. But apparently, there were still pieces of Ghost that belonged to a life before ours became tangled together. His aunt was one of them. I started the car and sighed when I thought of how far I had to drive. The impromptu road trip was not what I expected, but it was needed. Ghost had been just what his nickname was… a fucking ghost, and now I finally had somewhere to look.

Chapter 13

Ghost

For the past few days, I had learned more about the Brownes’ routine than I ever gave a fuck to know. I now knew what time cars usually started coming through their gate, which ones stayed for hours, and which ones were only there long enough to drop somebody off. I knew they had security, and it’s probably because of what I had done. I knew that sitting directly outside their shit would be the quickest way to get myself caught and knew I had no business being anywhere near them with damn near everybody looking for me.

Still, every morning I told myself I was going to put some real distance between me and this city, and somehow, by the end of the day, I found myself right back here. I wasn’t stupid enough to park directly in front of their property. I stayed far enough away to blend in with the regular traffic that moved through the area, switching cars and locations enough that nobody should’ve had a reason to notice me. I even cut my locs off. I rubbed my hand over my small afro and leaned forward in my seat. From where I sat now, I couldn’t see inside the property, but I could see enough of the road leading toward it to know when somebody was coming or going, and that was enough for me.

It had to be, because getting any closer would be fucking stupid. Then again, staying this close at all wasn’t exactly smart. I had money. That was the fucked-up part. I wasn’t trapped here because I couldn’t afford to leave. The duffle had more than enough in it for me to get somewhere far away, find a place nobody knew my name, and disappear until all this shit died down. I had already gotten rid of my phone, ditched the Camry, and made sure there wasn’t anything inside it that could point somebody in my direction. Every move after that should’ve been about getting as far away from everybody connected to this shit as possible.