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“Can you do me a favor?”

“It depends on what the favor is.”

I shifted on the couch and looked at him. “Can you take me home? I don’t want to be here anymore. There’s no reason for me to be here.”

He stared at me for a second but didn’t say anything. I was hoping he would at least understand where I was coming from.

I missed my own bed, my own space, and most of all, I missed my sister.

Yeah, I could call her, but that wasn’t the same as actually being around her. Me and my sister were close as hell. We met up for lunch whenever we could, talked about any and everything, and half the time, we didn’t even need a reason to be around each other.

Now I was sitting in some nigga’s house, being watched by another nigga because apparently Cassian thought I needed a fucking babysitter.

“So?” I asked when he still hadn’t answered me. “Can you take me home or not?”

“Nah, ma. I can’t do that.”

My face twisted. “Why the fuck not?”

“Because Cassian told me not to let you leave.”

I sucked my teeth and rolled my eyes.

“Do you listen to everything he tells you to do?”

“Yeah, and then no.”

I frowned. “Okay, so which one is it? Yes or no?”

This nigga had me confused. How the hell was it both?

“Yeah, I listen to him because he’s my boss,” he explained. “But no, I don’t listen to everything he says because I don’t have to.”

I let out a loud grunt and leaned back against the couch.

“Y’all do know you can’t keep me cooped up in this damn house, right? This is kidnapping.”

He looked at me for a second before laughing.

“Kidnapping?”

“Yeah, you heard me. Kidnapping.” I pointed between him and the front door. “I’m gone call them people and tell them you and your lil’ friend Cassian kidnapped me and y’all holding me against my will.”

“You know what?” He shook his head, still laughing. “You funny as hell, ma. You know that?”

I nodded and got up. His problem was he thought I was playing, and he was about to find out I wasn’t.

I headed upstairs, grabbed my phone from the room, and came right back down. By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, I already had 911 pulled up.

His eyes dropped to my phone.

“You really calling the police?”

I looked directly at him as I pressed the button.

“Sure the fuck am.”

The smile on his face slowly faded. I put the phone to my ear and waited. When the dispatcher answered, I told her exactly what was going on. I explained that I was at somebody’s house, I wanted to leave, and they were refusing to let me go.