give Keith the chance to fight back. Cain’s fists were like steel. He’d smashed his nose with one punch. Beat his ass … embarrassed him … stole his woman.
Keith wanted to hurt him bad. Needed to. Had to. He wasn’t trying to fight him, because he knew he would most likely lose. There were other ways to hurt Cain. Sometimes it was more fun to hit people where they lived. Keith was going to hit him low and where he could do the most damage. Right in the heart.
It had been six weeks since the sting had gone down. Ramsey —
as far as he knew — was still using a crutch, with his arm in a sling, and Nicky was using a cane for her shot leg. Both almost well, but still a bit incapacitated. Cain himself still had bandages on his arms.
Keith knew all this because he’d seen them. More than once. All congregated in Cain’s great room, having a real swell time. Nigga should keep his curtains closed.
Ramsey seemed to be doing his convalescing there, which made things easier for Keith. He could literally kill two birds with one stone. The easiest way to get to Cain was to hurt the people he cared the most about. That was the plan, but first Keith was going to serve Ramsey a heaping plate of tragedy and grief — with a side of guilt and humility. Keith cracked his knuckles. He’d teach that hyena to laugh at him. Fucking curly head pretty boy.
He turned his head and looked down the block. Keith started to watch the corner in earnest now. It was almost time for him to make his move. He watched the children pour out of the school and start to board the buses that were idling at the curb. Some were met by parents, others walked away in small groups, laughing and talking.
Keith stayed where he was and kept his vigil. Soon enough she came out. Keith looked at her intently and smiled to himself in apprecia-tion. He had to give Ramsey one thing. He sure didn’t mess around with ugly women.
His eyes followed her as she crossed the street and walked toward her car. Wow. She was beautiful. Medium height with dusky brown skin, and a head full of long, silky, dark hair that hung lushly down her back. She was wearing a white skirt and flat white sandals, with a gauzy summer blouse that draped modestly over the round curve of her expectant belly. It was an interesting shade of orange.
Tangerine, maybe. It made her skin look like it glowed. She carried two black canvas tote bags. One over her left shoulder and one in her right hand. She carried a small plant with pink flowers in her left
— probably all the stuff she’d acquired over the course of the school year, taking it home since this was one of the last days of school.
Keith walked discreetly to his car and started it up. He smiled. It was funny to him that people never knew when something like this was about to happen. He watched her take her time putting things in her car, pausing in a picture worthy moment of maternal bliss to pat her belly in protective indulgence and calm Ramsey’s kicking child.
She opened the door and got in, primly holding her skirt around her knees, then pulled off. Keith stuck a stick of gum in his mouth and followed her.
Yes, his luck had definitely been good as of late. Lissette Maldonado had practically fallen into his lap. He’d found out about her when the sting had first gone down and Ramsey and the rest of them were still in such fragile condition. This had been before Keith had gone AWOL and his character had started carrying a question mark.
He’d seen her come out of Ramsey’s room on more than one occasion Keith had asked around, looking to find out who she was. Keith had been impressed with the amount of women who’d left Ramsey’s room with tears rolling down their faces, but Ms.
Maldonado had been the only pregnant one. A few well-placed questions left him privy to the fact that she was, indeed, Ramsey’s girlfriend. He’d played his hand and tried to dig a little deeper with a woman who turned out to be his ex-wife, but she’d given him a lukewarm greeting, accepted his sympathies and effectively frosted him out. She was pretty, but that broad was so cold, she probably pissed ice cubes.
He didn’t need her anyway; after all, he had the lovely Lissette to exact his revenge on. Cain was the ultimate target of Keith’s retribution, but he owed Ramsey his share of humble pie. Keith had a one-way ticket to Costa Rica and a brand new life of luxury, but he was determined to take the shine off those rock stars and pay Nicky’s ass back before he left. He refused to leave until he took care of them.
His ego wouldn’t let him.
Keith trailed Lissette to her apartment in Williamsburg. He watched her get out and begin to laden herself down with all her stuff. Nothing looked really heavy, just awkward. Keith got out of his car and started toward her.
The thought crossed his mind that maybe he should just take his flight and get the fuck out of New York. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind that were still sane, something flickered and tried to find a voice. Maybe he should leave it alone. Maybe he was about to fuck with the wrong people. His lunatic ego stomped that small spark of clarity out with big boots. Fuck them niggas. They weren’t shit. Besides, they were both hurt, and a hurt nigga could only do so much. Tate and Troy had tried, but it was time for somebody to put a real dent in their swagger. Keith wasn’t about to just dent Ramsey’s.
He was about to shatter it into a million pieces.
Keith had taken his time to decide the best approach, and he thought he’d come up with a good idea. He was dressed like he was just out for a jog — sweat shorts and a tank top. An iPod and a fanny pack for good measure. He jogged up to her just as he took the plant out of the car. It was a geranium.
“You’ve sure got a lot of stuff for a lady in your condition,” Keith said, jovially. Lissette turned and looked at him sharply. Keith spread his hands in a nonthreatening manner and flashed a winning smile. “Do you need any help?”
Lissette smiled at him with some hesitation. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”
Fine. Time to gain her trust and put her at ease. He laughed and produced his badge and ID; Keith smiled when she actually took the time to read his name.
This time her smile was more genuine. “Okay, Detective Childs.
I guess I could use a little help.”
People were so stupid. He’d sedated her rational, city dwelling, case of distrustful nerves, brought on by a stranger offering unre-quested assistance, just by showing her proof that he was a bona-fide officer of the law.
He was sure she also felt her safety was guaranteed because she now knew his name — and possibly his shield number — in the off chance something jumped off that shouldn’t. Stupid. Just plain stupid.
Meanwhile, Keith kept smiling. “No problem. Glad I was able to put your mind at ease long enough to be of some service.” She laughed musically. Keith was very impressed with how pretty she was. What looked good from far away, was beautiful up close. She was that startle your heart pretty, like Nicky. He had goose bumps.
“Nothing like a cop to make you feel safe,” she said, handing her bags to him. She held onto the geranium, and walked up the steps of the well-maintained brownstone. She took out her key and opened the door.
“Then you must feel safe a lot. I saw you at the hospital after the sting went down.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Really? Were you involved in that?” He nodded. “I guess you can say I did some work out of the loop. A lot of people I know got
