Page 1 of Cooly

Chapter 1

The problem with New York is, even with the city screaming, the silence had a way of suffocating you. I sat in the dark, 40 floors up, the skyline glittering through floor-to-ceiling windows. My phone was face-down on the glass coffee table. I'd thrown it there so I wouldn’t be tempted to call Midnight.

"No more visits or birthday parties for the kids, Cooly." She hadn’t answered the phone since then. She didn't even have the decency to block a nigga's number. Just ignored me.

Her voice was still in my head. Flat. The way you'd tell a dog to stop begging at the table.

"Stop showing up. No more gifts. No more visits. No more godfather. You threatened my husband. That’s fucked up after I let your plotting on me with my father slide."

I picked up the bottle of Macallan 18 and took a long pull, not bothering with a glass. The whiskey burned going down, but it didn't touch the cold that had settled in my chest.

On the table beside the bottle sat the unopened toys. A plush elephant and a doll the size of a toddler. I'd walked into FAO Schwarz like a fucking idiot, stood in the baby section for forty-five minutes. I'd sent the package to Florida. Wanted to let her know—that I'd be there for her and the kids, even if she didn't want me there. She didn't even open the fucking thing and sent it back. It was fucking Malachai's fault. I should have killed him before she reached Florida back then.

I took another drink.

My phone buzzed. I ignored it.

It buzzed again. Then again. Then rang.

I let it ring.

Diamond's name lit up the cracked screen. She was persistent, I'd give her that. Always had been. We'd been friends since we were seven.

The call went to voicemail.

The phone buzzed with a text.

Diamond: Stop sulking. And open the door.

I stared at the glowing letters. Unbelievable.

I dragged myself up, the liquor pulling at my limbs. Before I reached the foyer, the heavy oak door swung open on its own. I should have never given her ass my keys. What was even the point of her calling me?

Diamond breezed right past me, not waiting on a welcome. She was poured into a black bodycon dress that cost more than a month's rent, her ass sitting right where it was supposed to. Six months ago, I would’ve pinned her against the couch and fucked the frustration right out of both of us. It was just something we did—never caught feelings, strictly business and pleasure between friends. But her and Malik had finally closed up their open relationship. That door was shut.

I listened to her heels clicking against the marble floor. She took one look at me—rumpled clothes, empty bottle, and the toys on the table—and shook her head.

"Damn."

"Damn what?"

"Damn, you really got it bad." She kicked off her heels and dropped onto my couch like she lived there. "I ain't never seen you like this."

I closed the door slowly and leaned against it. "What do you want, Diamond?"

"To save you from yourself." She picked up the elephant, turned it over in her hands. "Cute. Too bad she'll never see it."

"Get out. Abeg."

"Make me."

I didn't move. I was too tired to fight her.

Diamond put the elephant down and crossed her legs, studying me like I was a math problem she was trying to solve.

"I called her, you know. After you called me crying about what she said."

"I don't fucking cry."