My next stop was to see D. Terrance tagged along even though I would rather he didn't. He would never meet D, but if he wanted to ride to Brick City with me, I didn't have a problem with that. I noticed the beefed-up security. The guys looked as if they were just hanging out, but I knew better. I expected nothing less with how D had been shot.
At his building, I dapped up security and left T in the car as I headed inside. Everything was the same inside the apartment—classy, spotless, like time hadn't touched it. Men hung around, handling various tasks, but all eyes were drawn to Big D, sitting at the center of the leather sectional. He looked deceptively relaxed, a blunt in one hand, a drink on the table in front of him.
When I entered, he stood, his robe parting just enough to show he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath. Even though he closed it quickly, I was able to see the bandages underneath. His smile was warm, but I wasn't fooled. I smiled back, though a slow burn of anger flared inside me. He stretched out his hand instead of hugging me like he usually did, guiding me to sit next to him.
"You look lovely today," Big D said, his voice low and a bit scratchy. "Not that you don't look lovely every time I see you."
"Thanks," I said. "But what I want to know is how you're doing."
For a moment, Big D hesitated, reaching to ash his blunt. I studied him closely—the man I'd grown so attached to over the years. He'd taught me so much and always had my back. Seeing him like this pissed me off.
"I'm great," he finally said. "I've been thinking about retirement."
I grabbed the remote, flipping through channels to distract myself from the frustration rising inside me. "Probably a good idea," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. "You're not getting any younger."
He chuckled, but it quickly turned into a painful cough. His hand pressed to his side, and I immediately dropped the remote, passing him a water bottle. "I came here to make sure you're okay," I said, watching him drink. "Now, tell me—did you catch the bastard who shot you?"
He set the bottle down, wiping his mouth. He didn't seem surprised but still asked, "Who told you?"
"This is my city too. Not much happens here that I don't hear about."
He sighed, leaning back into the couch. "I love how smart you are."
"I learned from the best," I shot back.
His smile faded. "I'm fine, sweetheart. Just tired. Almost getting assassinated has a way of making you rethink your priorities. I've served these streets my whole life. It's time to step away, maybe spend my days on a beach somewhere, watching the waves."
"Well, I agree because I'd like to keep you around a while," I said, leaning in. "So, who's responsible for this?" I gestured toward his stomach.
Big D's expression darkened, his eyes locking with mine. "It's being taken care of. The fucker is slick and he got money. I don't want you getting involved in this, sweetheart. My people are handling it."
The words stung, making me pull back. "Like I didn't want you involved when I was beefing with the West?"
"You were in over your head."
I rolled my eyes and stood, "What about old boy from the Zone? He was small potatoes and you know it and you still turned up."
"He was trying to trap you. You wouldn't answer your phone."
"Who answers a phone on a mission?"
I hated to admit it but a lot of my power came from the alliance I had with D. People usually found out the hard way that if you fucked with me, you fucked with D and vice versa. We moved together on a few issues over the years. Together, we had big numbers.
"You were shot," I whispered. I wanted to yell at him so bad. Instead, I calmed down and scooted closer to him. "Your blood's still on the damn steps outside. That's not okay. My people are looking for whoever had the nerve to come at you, and if I find them first, I'll let you know."
"Anna," he growled, his voice commanding, "you will stand down. These are different kinds of monsters. They prey on people like you. Especially young women. Let me deal with this. When I catch them, I'll let you know."
"So, you know who did this?" I pressed.
"Yes," he admitted, his tone hard. "And he's a filthy bastard. I don't want you anywhere near him. Do you understand? I'll handle it."
His words did nothing to calm my temper, but I respected him too much to go against him. "This doesn't just happen. Someone came to your door. Have you thought this could be an inside job?"
His face tightened as he considered my question. "I've thought about it," he said quietly. "But I can't believe any of my guys would betray me. I keep their pockets full."
"That doesn't mean a thing," I said firmly. "I've learned the hard way that even the closest people can be snakes. You're retiring, so who's taking over?"
"Geo," he said, rubbing his chin. His face fell into an easy smile as he thought about his only son. Then his eyes fell on me, "He's been asking about you a lot lately."
As if summoned, Geo strode through the door, commanding the room with his presence. He moved like he already owned the place—like he owned every place he walked into. He stopped briefly to chat with his people. I watched as he gave orders. His large hands moved as he talked with a fluid grace a dancer would envy.
If you could put the ingredients for the perfect man in a pot and cook him up you would probably get Giovanni. He had his own gravitational pull and every time we were in t the same room I became trapped in it. Geo was easily six-four with a linebacker frame. His clothes always fit him to perfection. And the man could dress. No sagging pants or underwear showing for him.
He was the kind of man who reminded you that you were a woman and he was a man. Oh, he made me feel things. It didn't help that he flirted with me endlessly. The few times that we had been alone had probably been the hottest of my life. I had never wanted to bend over for a man as badly as I wanted to do whatever the hell Geo told me to do. He never touched me. It wasn't his word either because if I was honest his words usually pissed me off.
It was his eyes for me. The way he would slowly eat me up with his eyes was bad for my health. He always took his fill slowly and without shame. It made me hot, and my pussy would clinch with every breath I'd take. He was forbidden fruit to me—delicious to look at, but not someone I'd ever let myself get close to. Lately, whatever witchcraft he had on me was getting worse. It seemed like we were crossing paths very often, and each time I saw him, I got a little weaker.