Page 84 of Omar

I stared at him. My chest was heaving. My eyes were burning.

"What are you gonna do?" I asked.

"I'm gonna get her."

"How?"

"Devon's tracking her phone. Once we got the location, me and James go in. We bring her back."

"And if she's hurt?"

"She won't be."

"You don't know that."

"Supreme took her as leverage. She's worth more to him alive and unhurt than she is any other way. He wants you to come running, that's the play. So we don't give him what he wants. We go in ourselves, we get Nene, we bring her home."

"When?"

"Tonight. As soon as Devon gives us the location."

I stood there looking at him across the kitchen. This man who'd put together an extraction to get me out, who'd told Kadeem everything, who'd sent Shanay into the salon. This man who was now going to walk into one of Supreme's locations to pull my best friend out because I'd put her there.

"If anything happens to her," I said quietly, "I will never forgive myself."

"Nothing's gonna happen to her." He stepped closer. "I'm bringing her home, Asha. That's a promise."

"You can't promise that."

"Watch me."

We stood there for a moment, the anger draining out of me, replaced by something heavier. I didn't have the energy to keep fighting and he wasn't giving me anything to fight against. He was calm, certain, already planning the operation in his head while I was still trying to breathe.

"What if it was me?" I asked. "What if Supreme had me in that room instead of Nene? Would you be standing here telling me to be patient?"

"If it was you I'd already be in the car."

"Then you understand how I feel right now."

"I do. But the difference is I know how to go in and come out alive. You going back to Supreme's people is a death sentence for both of you." He stepped closer, his voice dropping. "Let me do what I'm good at. Let me bring her home."

My legs gave out. I didn't decide to sit down, my body just stopped holding me up. I slid down the kitchen cabinet until I was sitting on the floor with my back against the cupboards, my knees pulled up, my face in my hands.

Omar looked at me on the floor for a second. Then he sat down next to me. His back against the cabinet, his shoulder touching mine. He didn't put his arm around me. He didn't try to comfort me with words or promises. He just sat there on the cold kitchen floor beside me because I was on the floor and that's where he needed to be.

We stayed like that for a long time. My breathing slowed. The shaking stopped. The apartment was quiet around us, the fridge humming, the traffic sounds coming through the window. His warmth beside me was the only thing keeping me together.

"She's gonna be so pissed when you get her," I said eventually, my voice raw.

"Good. Pissed means alive."

"She'll probably yell at you the whole car ride back."

"Probably."

"And then she'll ask if James is single."

Omar turned his head. "What?"