Page 69 of About the Green

"What's up?" I say as soon as I get on the phone.

Redd’s raspy voice is unmistakable as he says, “Hey, so I got all the stuff you've sent me. Shit… I didn't want to get Blue into it because, to be honest, I still thought that you were just obsessed. Didn't really know what to do with these feelings, since we know vampires don't really have workin’ hearts…”

"Can you get to it?” I'm not in the mood for his teasing, and I'm certainly not in the mood for whatever crass comparison he has for me today about my own emotions. Him mentioning what I’ve sent him has my alarm bells ringing loud in my own ears.

"Yea, well, I put everythin’ together and brought it to Blue. He's gonna have a talk with Racquelle about it. Actually, I wanted to, you know, and it's a good thing you brought it to our attention because she is accruin’ quite a few bodies.” My stomach drops as Redd continues to explain, “I mean, I don't mean to laugh, but I didn't even think a woman that small could be able to accomplish as much. I mean, she is tiny, and just with what you've sent me alone, I'm impressed. Not to mention the fact that once I started tappin’ into a few cameras, I was able to catch the tail end. She's abnormally good at bein’ able to avoid them, though I haven't caught anythin’ that's intentionally incriminatin’. They do put her in a place to where, if somebody does start diggin’, she would be goin’ under. I could tell you from experience that prison's not where she wants to be, so we've got to put a stop to it."

"Wait, Redd, I just—"

"And on top of that, I started to think about what you said, and it feels a little bit sexist to say that she couldn't do the things that you accused her of. Women can be hitters too. Hell, they're probably better hitters than we are, to be fair, because no one expects them. Am I right? Especially not her, you know… since she's so small."

"Actually, about that—"

He doesn't let me continue saying what I'm going to say. There's some talking in the background I can't make out, but he says, "Oh, well, I gotta go. I just wanted to let you know that we'd be bringin’ that up in the meeting today.”

But I don't get to finish my sentence or really say anything on this phone call at all when he ends the phone conversation before I've had a chance to say my piece.

"Fuck," is all I can say as I run a hand over my head, the sweat beginning to accumulate on my neck.

"I fucked up," I shout into my room, complete frustration. Because what the fuck am I going to do now?

This entire time I've been trying to nail her down for these murders, and I had no idea what the fuck I was talking about. I didn't know what the fuck I was doing.

God damn it.

I can't imagine what this makes me look like—a gigantic asshole—because I'm her ride to the meeting that is maybe her downfall.

There's only a few ways to get rid of a problem in a crime family like either of ours. I can't hope that her connection to Liezel and Racquelle will save her alone because I've done a thorough job of compiling all sorts of evidence. Every single time I caught her doing something, I had documented it as thoroughly as I could manage, and with the time that we've spent together alone...

Oh, it's bad.

I’m already on my way to pick her up for what will be our last meeting before leadership goes back to Louisiana. I don’t have time to rectify this.

She gets into the car just as vibrant as usual, this time in a yellow mini-dress that's got red and black polka dots as the main accent. She looks completely at ease with her yellow heels crossing over my dashboard on the way to the location that has been disclosed.

Fuck, I don't know if I'm bringing her to her death right now. I almost have a mind to drive the other way, but I can't run away from my problems. I have to do something to fix this.

I feel like a complete asshole as she talks to me about who knows what because I can't even focus on a single thing she's saying until something piques my interest.

"…when you go back to your baby mama, and you can go to being a family again, since you seem like the type to need some sort of traditional family structure to be happy."

"What?" I question. "What the hell are you talkin’ about?"

"Well, isn't that what you're doing? As soon as we wrap all this stuff up, you're going back to Louisiana so that you can be with your daughter and your ex-wife or whatever."

"The fuck?”

“Were y'all married?" She asks me, gaze boring in the side of my face as I drive down the highway.

Locking the door, in case she tries something wild, I say, “No, we weren’t.” She’s somewhat satisfied with my answer if her smirk is anything to go by. I have no idea what she’s talking about to begin with. “What are you talkin’ about? I'm not gonna get back with my baby mama. Where is this comin’ from?” I had spent the past few days with her. The only time I hadn’t was when I needed to get work done or when I was talking to Gracie.

Her head nods toward my suitcases in the back seat. “You sure? Because it sure seems like it." Why’s she picking this fight? We were good. We’d spent so much more time together that we had in the past and it was nice.

"I don't give a fuck what it sounds like. I'm not gettin’ back with Marissa. She is... we are not a thing. We were never good together, and that's not what I want."

At a light, I can properly see her face. She looks beautiful in her usual look, which is to say there is nothing typical about what she has on, including the yellow that accentuates her round eyes growing rounder with her emotion when she asks, “What do you want, then?"

I want us to not be walking into the shit that I stirred because I didn’t know the reason or purpose for the murders you’d committed.