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It’s said that every single person will meet someone who will test them. When I say test them, I mean this one person is directly planted in that other person’s life specifically to test them. Saskia Dragavei is that person for me.
“How do you know what she told you is the truth?” King asks, sliding the glass of whiskey over to me.
We’re in his plantation house that’s on the property. I have one here, too, but rarely use it. When we’re not traveling, I’m back in New York. My dad would spend a lot of time there when I was a kid, taking me with him, so I found a deep co
“Because Delila doesn’t talk shit.” I shoot back the whiskey and reach for the bottle, pouring another.
“True,” King agrees.
I swallow past the bile in my throat. I should have known. I should have been smarter. I should have known.
“What are we doing about it?” King asks. “Perse picks up on this shit and she’s already grilling my ass about your sudden change toward Sass.”
“So tell her.” I gesture toward the hallway with my glass. “Might make her understand more and stop fucking shoving past me every time she sees me. Bro code ain’t got shit on girl code. Chicks are feisty as fuck.”
King chuckles. “Nah, no way. I’m not bringing her into this. She’s too close.”
I understand why King wouldn’t want her involved. She is too close, not just to Saskia, but to me. She would inhale everything with her heart, not her brain.
King leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “And how do you feel about it?”
For the first time in all of my life, I don’t want to trick anyone into thinking that I’m telling the truth. “I feel fucked up about it, dawg.”