Javon hands me his phone and, sure enough, Nic’s picture pulses on the screen. My heart almost jumps out of my mouth. I slap my hand over it just to keep everything in. Could it be? After all this time . . . every call going straight to voicemail. Every text message going unanswered. Every lead leading to a dead end. Finally, this is something we could hold on to. I blink away tears when I notice it: Nic’s picture is moving. Wait . . . if Nic’s phone is moving, that means she’s moving. Which means . . .
“She’s alive!” Riley says, then wraps an arm around me to squeeze me in a hug.
Holy shit. My sister’s alive. I rest my head on top of Riley’s and close my eyes. Take a moment to take this all in. Nic’s alive. I get to go home and tell MiMi that Nic’s alive. Hell, I get to go home with Nic.
Javon snatches his phone back. “I need this to track her.”
I nod. Lean forward in the space between the two front seats to keep my eyes on her picture. To make sure she’s still moving. And she is. Two weeks of silence and now she’s letting us know she’s okay. She’s okay. Wait, if she’s okay, that also means . . .
“You didn’t kill her,” I say to Javon.
Javon smirks and gives me a side eye. “Nigga, are you crazy? Of course I didn’t kill her.”
I want to believe him. Hell, I have to believe him—the proof is on his phone. “I don’t get it, though,” I say aloud. “Why were you and Sterling arguing in front of her house? Why does she get all cagey whenever I mention you or Nic around her?”
Javon takes a deep breath but shifts his eyes back on the road. “Sterling’s my alibi.”
Riley and I look at each other, confused.
“What does that mean?” Riley asks for both of us.
“The last time I saw Nic or Kenny was about two weeks ago. Slim was throwing one of his Friday eve parties.”
“Friday eve?” Riley asks.
Javon shakes his head. “Some stupid shit to get ready for the weekend. But Slim comes up with stupid shit all the time to find an excuse to party.”
Friday eve? That would be Thursday. The last time I heard from Nic was that phone call from two Thursdays ago. I lean forward again, ready to put together the pieces.
“Sterling came with her. Homegirl got white girl wasted. And when she gets like that, she also gets a little . . . touchy-feely. Particularly with me.” He scratches something on his face, clearly embarrassed. “Anyways, Nic wasn’t feeling it, but took all her anger out on me. Broke up with my ass in front of everyone then took off with Kenny. Straight clowned me. So, I took off, too.”
I take in what Javon tells me, but there still seem to be holes in his story. “If you took off, too, then who’s to say you didn’t go after them? You knew you couldn’t hurt Nic because she’s your girl, but Kenny’s fair game, right?” I knew firsthand what he could do when he was pissed about Nic. I still have a scar on my chin to prove it.
Javon huffs, his patience running thin with me. “I ain’t sweating Kenny. He presses up a little too hard on Nic sometimes, but that nigga isn’t my competition.” He pauses, winces. “Wasn’t my competition. Yeah, I wanted to rough him up some, but I couldn’t do whatever they think I did to him. Toss him out like garbage? Not my style.” At that, he punches the steering wheel. “Not my fucking style.”
Riley and I give him his moment. The pain for Kenny is still close to Javon—raw like an open sore. And if he’s putting on a show for us, he could give Denzel Washington a run for his money. I want this all to make sense for me, but everyone knows Javon’s a bad guy. We heard the stories about what he’d do to guys if they were short with his money, or even short with him. Aside from our tussles, I’ve never seen him exact revenge firsthand—but there’s always truth in rumors, right?
“I went home after I left the party,” Javon says after getting himself together. “Sterling came over to . . . check on me.”
Riley scoffs. “Wow,” she says.
Javon frowns. “Look, Nic knows how I roll, okay? But she also knows I got love for her.”
Love? Love? He’s kidding me with this. I think about all the times I had to cover for Nic when she was off doing who the hell knows with Javon. All the arguments I had to break up between Nic and MiMi when MiMi found holes in my stories about Nic. How Nic went from honor roll student to barely a student over the course of kicking it with this clown.
“You have a funny way of showing it,” I spit out.
Javon looks at me through his rearview mirror. “Come again?” he says—almost warns.
I’m too fired up to take a hint. “Nic turned into a whole-ass other person after getting with you. Suddenly, all she ever wanted to do was get high and cut school. Forget college. Forget leaving the Ducts. She’s never going to be able to put our hood behind her with you holding her back.”
“Jay.” Riley touches my arm, begs me to calm down with her eyes, but I’m on a roll now.
“But you don’t even give a damn. You got your stoop. You got your paper. Hell, you probably have some chick on rotation just in case Nic never made it back.” The words tumble out of my mouth, too quick for me to keep up. Like they’ve been aging on the back of my tongue. And it feels good letting it all out. Not just for Nic, but for me. Hell, even for Javon. He needs to finally get it. All the bullshit he pulls is why Riley thinks she can make jokes about me knocking someone up. Why Joshua Kim doesn’t trust me to handle the cash. Why Officer Hunter doesn’t blink twice when I tell him my sister’s missing. My dad warned me about The Man even when I was too young to know who the hell The Man was. But Javon’s almost a grown-ass dude. Why can’t he see he’s doing exactly what The Man wants by slinging shiz in his own hood? To his own people?
“Oh, you got me all figured out, huh?” Javon’s hands clench around his steering wheel, so tight that his knuckles grow pale. Probably imagining wringing my neck. “Know my social security number, too? The pin to my ATM card?” Okay, maybe Riley was right. I should’ve dropped this a long time ago. If Javon gets too pissed, no telling what he might do. He probably wouldn’t even give a damn that Riley’s in the backseat. On instinct, I reach over and grab her hand.
“Since you know me so well, answer this. How many times did I tell your sister to carry her ass to school? How many times did I tell her to get home so she wouldn’t have to hear her grandma’s mouth? How many times did I tell her to lay off the bliss?” He lets out a long sigh and finally detaches one hand from the wheel to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Look, I know you and your grandma and everybody else think I’m a piece of shit. Ain’t no thing to me—my dad told me that before I even learned how to ride a bike. Nic’s the first person to look at me like I’m a king. Not because she’s scared of me or anything, just because. And, shit, I want to feel good sometimes, too. So, fuck me for not pushing her away hard enough.”
Riley takes in a breath and squeezes my hand. She gets it. Nic had done the same for her. Saw something in her that others didn’t. And if I really think about it, she’s done the same for me, too. I wouldn’t have survived all this shiz we’ve been through if she hadn’t been beside me. Putting her arm around my shoulders, telling me everything was going to be fine because we had each other. “Me and you against the world,” she’d say to me. That’s why I’ve been working so hard to get her back.
Javon’s car stops moving. I blink, look around.
“This is where the tracker says she is,” he says.
His headlights spill over a sign: Deer Park.
Holy. Shit.
Twenty-Two
RILEY, JAVON, AND I STUDY THE DEER PARK SIGN IN SILENCE. By the way Javon’s breaths come out, all jagged like he’s about to implode, I can tell he hasn’t been here since news broke of Kenny’s body being found. Why would Nic come out here? Is this her way of paying her respects to Kenny, especially after missing his service?
“Stay right here.” Javon’s voice slices through the air and causes Riley to jump. I guess she’s just as on edge as I am about being
so close to where somebody spotted Kenny.
“Naw, man,” I say. “If Nic’s out there, then—”
“Damn, I see what Nic was talking about when she called you hardheaded.” He shoves his phone inside his pocket. “I’m not going to repeat myself: you both stay put. No telling what’s out here this late.” He slides out of the car and goes running down the path toward the sign. Soon, he gets out of reach of his headlights.
My knees bounce up and down, up and down. Nic’s so close but still so far away. I can’t believe I have to wait even longer to see her.
“You heard him before,” Riley says, placing her hand on my knee. “As hard as it is to believe, he loves your sister. He’s going to get her back to the car safely.”
Riley has a good point. But there’s only one thing she forgot: I love Nic, too. I unbuckle my seatbelt. “Lock the door behind me.”
Riley sighs. “Jay . . .”
“I mean it. Call me if you see anything funny, and I’ll come back running.” I squeeze her hand. “I have to do this.”
Riley pulls away from me, but nods. Of course she gets it. She’s seen what I’ve been through over the last two weeks. I close the door behind me and dart in the same direction as Javon. The park gets dim as soon as I’m a few feet away from Javon’s car, but thankfully I remember my surroundings from the time Dad used to drive me here for peewee football. As soon as practice ended, we’d sit out on one of the benches and sip on slushies. Watch people play with their dogs. I’d always ask Dad why we didn’t have one of our own, and he’d wave a hand across the park and say, “We get a new one every week.” He’d laugh each time like it was the first time he told that joke and I’d roll my eyes, all while hiding my smile behind my slushie. The park hasn’t changed much since then. Physically, at least. Knowing that Kenny was buried a few feet away from where five-year-olds toss footballs gives the place a gloomier vibe.
I hear scuffling close by. I blink, adjust my eyes, and spot Javon pushing down some other guy right by one of the bike trails. I rush over to them as the other guy tries to scurry to his feet. He wears a Dallas Cowboys jersey with Tony Romo’s name fading away on the back.
“Pooch?” I say, my feet screeching to a halt once I’m close enough to them. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“This motherfucker had your sister’s phone,” Javon says, holding up another phone. The case is striped with purple and turquoise and glistens from all the tiny crystals embroidered on it. I once joked with Nic that a unicorn must’ve sold her that. This was definitely her phone.
My pulse tries to punch its way through the side of my neck. It’s only Nic’s phone here, not Nic herself. I don’t understand. “Why do you have Nic’s phone?” I ask.
“I told him already,” Pooch says, scrambling to his feet. “I found it.”
“Lies!” Javon hisses, then jumps at Pooch. Pooch stumbles back onto his ass, tries to scoot away but Javon grabs hold of his feet. Drags Pooch back toward him.
“Jay!” Pooch cries out. “Jay! Help me!”
My stomach does the Harlem Shake as I watch the scene unfold in front of me. Any other time, I would’ve stepped in front of Pooch. Explain to his assailant that Pooch never means any harm, that Pooch is just being Pooch. But . . . he has Nic’s phone. Which means he might know what’s going on with Nic. Or maybe he even hurt her . . .
“Just tell him the truth, Pooch.” The words shake out of me.
Pooch looks up at me, wide-eyed, like a deer staring at the headlights of his impending doom. Javon steps toward him and I spin around. I can’t watch whatever it is Javon plans on doing to get some answers. I hear Pooch grunt and plead, and the rubble underneath him and Javon screams for mercy. My hands tremble so I shove them into my hoodie. Just talk, Pooch, I beg. Hope my words get to him. Please. Just talk.
“All right!” Pooch cries out.
I suck in a breath, turn back around. Javon still hovers over Pooch, fist cocked and ready to fire. Pooch cradles his head with both arms, his body trembling from pain and fear.
“I didn’t find it—I stole it!”
“From who?” Javon demands. “From Nic?”
“No!” Pooch drops his arms and looks up at Javon. “I would never steal from any of the Murphys. I didn’t know it was Nic’s phone!”
“Then who?” Javon’s voice explodes through the park, sends birds scampering away out of trees. Didn’t even know birds kicked it this late.
“I don’t know his name,” Pooch says. “I went to Mickey D’s to grab something off the value menu. Some cocky white guy trashed it in the dumpster outside. I thought I could sell it.”
Javon smirks, then pauses. Drops his raised fist to his side. His face gets real still, like he’s programming a computer inside his head. Finally, his face twists in anger again. “I’m gonna kill them!” He steps over Pooch, storms toward the park’s exit.
Pooch lies back onto the trail and curls up into a fetal position. I should check on him. I should at least call for help, but somebody who wasn’t Nic had Nic’s phone—and Javon seems to know who it is. I shoot an apologetic glance at Pooch, then jog after Javon, though my legs are heavy with guilt.
“What’s going on?” I ask Javon in between breaths. Even jogging I can’t keep up with Javon’s gait. He’s walking with determination. He’s walking like he wants to kill someone.
“I fucking asked them,” he shouts, more to himself than to me. “I asked them if they knew what’s what. ‘Nah, Javon, bro.’” His voice morphs into something that sounds like a surfer dude. “‘He never showed up at the spot. We haven’t seen him, bro.’” Javon barks out something I can’t translate and punches his fist into his open hand.
“Javon,” I try to speak calmly, even though it seems like Javon’s past the point of no return. “I don’t know what’s happening. Tell me what’s going on and I can help.”
Javon laughs at me. The laughter comes out harsh and quick, like a stab. Before I know it, we’re back at Javon’s car. He swings open his back door and nudges his head at Riley. “Ay, come on out of there.”
Riley blinks as she gets out of the car. “Is everything okay?” Then to me. “Where’s Nicole?”
I shake my head at her. Another dead end. But I’d have to explain that to her later. Right now, Javon looks like he’s about to jump from a cliff.
“What are you doing, Javon?” I ask him.
“I need to take care of something.” He gets back into his driver’s seat. “Y’all going to have to find your own way back home.”
“Wait, you’re just leaving us out here?” I ask.
Javon’s tires answer me, screeching at high volume as Javon speeds away. He leaves with Nic’s phone—and leaves me with a shitload of unanswered questions.
Twenty-Three
“WAIT . . . IS THAT HIM?” RILEY ASKS, PULLING BACK the curtain of my living room window.
“Riley!” I tug the curtain back down. “We can’t be too obvious.”
“Why not? Javon filled us in on everything. It’s obvious we’d want to know where he ran off to. Especially you.”
Once again, Riley makes a good point. The night’s just been so jumbled that I can barely keep my head on straight. After Javon ditched us at Deer Park, we ordered an Uber. Dropped Pooch off at the closest emergency room to clear his head, then made it back to Riley’s car. Riley drove me home and wanted to wait with me for word from Javon. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. Now we’re posted up on my living room couch, peering out the window to see if anyone drives up to Javon’s building.
“Okay, so what did he say again?” Riley asks me.
I sigh. “Told you . . . he had some kind of dialogue with himself. With voice changes and everything. He seemed like he was pissed at someone but didn’t tell me who.”
“It has to be someone who he thinks might have had Nic’s phone.” Riley taps her chin in deep thought. “But who?”
Those are the questions of the night—the ones that Javon di
sappeared with. The ones he’ll hopefully answer for us once he returns to the Ducts.
“You both know it’s a school night, right?”
Riley and I swirl around from the window and MiMi stares at us, tying her house robe around her waist. I figured she’d be so knocked out that she wouldn’t hear us, but this night has been full of surprises.
“Yeah. Riley was just helping me with a project,” I say. “She’s done something like it at her school already.”
MiMi frowns at me then shifts her eyes to Riley. “Your parents know you’re here?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Riley lies. “I told them I’d be a little late. As long as I’m home by eleven, they’re fine.”
MiMi studies us as if waiting for one of us to pop so the truth bursts out. I hold my breath. Finally, she shakes her head and walks toward the kitchen. “Well, sure you can’t concentrate on an empty stomach. Let me fix you both a PB&J sandwich.”
“MiMi, you don’t need—”
“Sounds delicious,” Riley says. I give her a look and she shrugs. “What? We never finished dinner, remember? You try calling Nic’s phone again?”
I point at her. Good thinking. I tried ringing up Nic’s phone a couple of times, hoping that Javon would pick up and fill me in on everything. I press her name when there’s a sharp knock at the door. Riley and I look at each other, eyebrows raised in hope.
“Who in the world is that this time of night?” MiMi calls from the kitchen.
“I got it, MiMi.” I jump to my feet and rush to the door. I had been so caught up with selling fake news to MiMi, that I didn’t even see Javon pull up. Maybe he’s dropping off the idiot who took Nic’s phone to demand some answers. Wait—maybe he’s even dropping off Nic herself! I’m so jittery with the possibility that my hand slips from the doorknob before I’m able to take a proper hold to swing it open.
Javon doesn’t stand at my door with answers. Instead, Rick Ross, aka Officer Hunter, stands there, his mouth turned down at the corners like somebody’s tugging at it.
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