(( hello it's hard to stay creative thanks for sticking around ;; please no mentions of that DIRTY RAT miss rona - ))
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"Tell me," you start, sitting cross-legged on the middle of the bed. "Everything that happened before you went to jail and after."
Impulsively you've taken out your braids and wasted the money, but you were getting tired of accidentally leaning on them all day. Wearing nothing but an oversized tee and underwear, you were very clear to N'Jadaka during your "much-needed" bath that the message on your phone shook you and you'd very much appreciate him coming 100% clean with everything that's been going on during your short and eventful time together so far.
It all went from 0 to 100 so quick, and now you're living with him with a baby in your lap on top of all of that.
He keeps flicking channels next to you, lazily, and at first you don't think he'll answer you. It's very on-brand for him after all.
But then he speaks, going, "You mean startin' with why I had to move out of my damn house that I been in for a minute because of you?"
"Yes," you say sharply, squinting. "Because of me."
"You really ain't have a single clue about that ex of yours?"
"No, asshole, that's why I'm asking you how he ended up dead and you arrested."
He snorts, amused. "He owed money to people, regular old shit. Except he made the dumbass mistake of fuckin' with me. That's it. Nothing more, nothing less."
It all seems anticlimactic, so you ask if it was least over you. It seems like it was.
"Nah," he goes, still staring at the tv. "Well, kind of. Typical jealous lame nigga thinkin' he could take care of me and get some money for it."
"Was he working with enemies of yours?"
N'Jadaka nods and you think back to when you were kidnapped at the art museum because his nose was too far in an exhibit to notice your absence. You still have the scar on your leg as fresh as ever, and the anxiety. God, Devon was lame. It never pays to act like a supervillain and fuck with an actual supervillain.
You sigh, thinking of his mother, who was way too pleasant to have a son like him.
Below you, Kaya spits out her pacifier and you wordlessly replace it, wondering how exactly he pulled off the murder of such a popular rapper with no cops banging on the door. You don't like the word 'murder', it makes you think of serial killers and the like. You had to apologize for the question you had for N'Jadaka way back, asking if he counted as one, because as far as you know he didn't make a point to hunt down defenseless women in the night.
But it doesn't matter, the times he's killed for you have both been a direct effect of attempts on your life.
But the nightclub explosion was such a perfect crime; from what you've read about it, not a single casualty other than B was reported, but it was all named an 'accident.'
You want more than this.
Specifically, you ask for express proof (other than Damien coming to attack you) that B was behind it and what he shows you is disgusting. Some video hidden behind many security protocols on his phone (interesting) lets you know just how far into this perceived Bonnie-and-Clyde fantasy B really was.
You watch her drunkenly reminisce to Damien and a few other girls the shit she and 'Erik' used to get into during college and you have to suppress a biting question to him about why he didn't mention how long he'd known her. He'd always used to imply they had known each other briefly 'back in the day' but according to her it'd been a few years. She sounds obsessed with him, so bothered by you and how different you were from her and 'the other bitches he usually fucked with.' And it utterly confused her how he could possibly want you over her.
