Page 50 of Collateral Love
“No,” she replied. “He wanted me to be nervous. He wanted leverage.”
I paced. “That’s a mistake.”
She closed the laptop and stood.
“No,” she said softly. “It’s an opportunity.”
She handed me a flash drive.
“Everything he’s done. Everything he’s said. Plus something extra.”
“What’s extra?” I asked.
She met my eyes.
“He’s been skimming from his department’s research grants. Small amounts. Enough to fund his gambling without alerting auditors.”
I stared at her.
“You didn’t have to dig that deep. I could have just offed the Nigga.”
“Yes, I did,” she replied. “A professor being murdered would bring too much unwanted scrutiny. Money is flowing. We can’t just threaten him because men like him don’t stop unless they’re made to feel small.”
I exhaled slowly.
“What do you want me to do?” I asked.
She stepped closer, close enough that I could feel her presence like gravity.
“I want you to trust me,” she said.
“I already do. More than I trust anyone.” I stared into her irises, letting her know I was always on her time.
“No,” she corrected. “I want you to stand down.”
That felt like a challenge.
“Kenya—”
“I don’t need muscle right now,” she said. “I need space.”
I searched her face, trying to read past the calm.
“You sure?” I asked again.
“Yes,” she said. “And if you step in, you break the system that we built together. My mom and dad already treat me like they don’t trust me. I don't need my bestie second-guessing me.”
That was the first time she’d drawn a line with me.
I didn’t like it.
But I respected it.
So I stayed back.
YaYa made an anonymous Myspace account and leaked the Professor’s gambling debt.
Two days later, the professor resigned.
