Grip Trilogy Box Set

“She’s Rhyson’s sister and my friend.” I harden my eyes when they meet Hector’s. “And if you want me performing at your opening, take her off your hit list.”

“You got it.” Hector’s hands go up defensively. “I wouldn’t be a red-blooded male if I didn’t try. You say she’s off limits, she’s off limits.”

I jerk my head in a nod and gulp down a mouthful of Cristal and irritation.

“You okay, baby?” Qwest leans back and turns her head so she can whisper in my ear, her back pressed to my chest, her ass pressed into my crotch.

“Yeah. I’m good. Just tired.” I roll my neck against the tension vising it. “It’s been a long week.”

I rub her arm, regret nipping at my insides because I don’t think I can let this thing go on with Qwest much longer. It’s gone deeper than it was supposed to. She’s gone deeper than she was supposed to, and the longer I put this off, the worse it will be.

“I’ve got something to make you smile.” She sits up, clapping as Will comes into our section. “You made it!”

“Yes, barely.” Will hands her a black velvet box. “Traffic was a beast because of some accident.”

“Thank you.” Qwest takes the box and then turns to me. “A little gift to celebrate the number one spot.”

“Oh, wow.” A surprised breath escapes my lips. “I didn’t expect anything. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I wanted to, and don’t say wow till you’ve seen it.” Qwest puts the box in my hands, eyes lit with anticipation. “Go ahead. Open it.”

It’s gotten quiet, and everyone’s conversations have died out as they watch and wait for me to open the box. When I pop open the lid, I’m nearly blinded by the bling.

“Shit.” My jaw drops. A diamond and platinum watch glints against the black velvet bed. “What the . . . Qwest, you really didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, I noticed you wearing this thing.” She gestures to the non-descript black watch I always wear. “And I knew I needed to light that wrist up.”

I bite back an objection when she undoes my old watch, which is made of nothing but cheap rubber and vivid memories. That day at the carnival, I won Bristol a whistle and she won me this no-name watch. We joked that they were the worst carnival prizes we’d ever seen, but I can count on one hand the times I’ve taken that watch off since that carnival. And now this mammoth, glittering hip-hop cliché is strapped to my wrist, and I already can’t wait to get home so I can shove it to the back of a drawer.

“I don’t know what to say.” I turn my arm back and forth, the overhead lights bouncing off the watch and making me squint. “It’s . .

. I’ve never had anything like it.”

“Lemme see,” my mother says. She comes over, grabbing my arm and admiring the watch. “Ooooh, Erica. So nice.”

“Erica?” My eyes flick between my mother and Qwest.

“She told me to call her by her real name,” Ma crows. “Ain’t that sweet?”

“That’s great.” I look around on the floor and the couch, unreasonable panic ripping through me. “Where’s my watch?”

“What do you mean?” Qwest frowns, looking down at my wrist. “You’re wearing—”

“No, the other one.” I move her off my lap and bend to search the darkened floor. “The black one. It was just here. Where . . .”

It doesn’t take the strange looks from Qwest and Ma to know I sound like an idiot. I’ve barely glanced at the expensive new watch, but I’m on the verge of losing my shit because I can’t find some cheap watch no one would even want.

But I want it.

“Do you see it?” I ask my mother. “Check down by your feet.” “Baby, I don’t see it,” Ma says with a laugh. “But I doubt you’ll miss it.”

I don’t answer as I continue to scan the floor and couch around me.

“Got it!” Amir says from the floor on his hands and knees. “I guess it fell.”

He hands it back to me, and my heart slows. I almost had a stroke when I thought I’d lost the thing. Losing Bristol has left me in even more of a panic, only it isn’t evident on the surface. It’s like pins under my skin. Needles under my scalp.

Of all things, my stomach growls loudly. I frown and realize I’m starving.