Page 66 of His Favorite Felon

We disconnected the call. I sat in his office a little longer, just watching the monitors. Nobody was gon catch me slipping. I knew where Chance kept his guns, so I went into his safe and removed the newest addition. It was a small custom gun. I asked for orange, and Last Chance Range delivered. She was gorgeous. Chance wanted to take me to the range to practice, but between going ghost after finding out he was a twin and then learning that I was pregnant, we hadn’t had the time; he refused to even let me set foot in there to pick up my gun. He said it wasn’t safe and promised we’d go back once I gave birth.

I watched tutorials, so how could it really be?

I connected my phone to the Bluetooth surround sound and played Jazmine Sullivan. The first song to play on her station was “In Love With Another Man.”

“How ironic”, I whispered to myself. What started as me assuming that I was in love with the person I met in jail and then falling in love with another man—that man being his brother—is even crazier. I don’t think I’ll tell our kids how we met. I giggled at the thought. I was gonna tell Chance we needed a cover story and hopefully, his weird ass brother kept his distance.

Since Chance was practically estranged from his parents and his brother, I didn’t really care about how they might’ve judged me for staying with Chance. It was Chase’s fault for lying. So, now, he made his bed, and he had to lie in it.

My sister had to block his number, and eventually she had to get a new one. We offered her a place to stay with us, but she declined. Both Jamie and Chance didn’t think Chase would show up at her apartment, since she threatened to get a restraining order. He loved his job as a correctional officer, so they didn’t think he’d risk his career.

Moments later, I was upstairs washing a load of clothes when I heard a thump at the door. I pulled out my phone to check the doorbell camera. Nobody was there. I could’ve sworn the sound came from outside. I heard another thump, so that time I grabbed my gun and headed toward the noise.

CHAPTER 27

Chance

These crabs better be bussin’. The way they had my car bouffin’, it was like breathing in the dirtiest ocean imaginable, but this is what Trouble wanted, so this is what she gets.

When I pulled up to my gate, I noticed that something or someone had definitely been tampering with the call box. I hit my lights and slowly pulled in front of my house. I pulled out my phone to check the cameras. I left all the bags and walked towards the door. Behind my back, I reached and pulled my gun out. I always made sure I was strapped. I be damned if a nigga caught me lackin’.

I frowned when I noticed my security cameras were all blacked out. Whoever had gotten inside knew exactly how to stay hidden.

My front door was barely closed. All I had to do was tap it, and it opened. I peeked inside and was met with silence. That was unusual for Trouble, who, like the talented singer she was, always had music playing throughout the house. I had grown used to her singing from sunrise to sunset. Unless she wasn’t home, I could always expect to hear her beautiful voice.

I didn’t make it more than a few feet inside before I noticed shattered glass near the dining room. I turned on the red laser on my gun. I was gonna make sure I didn’t miss my target. When I reached the kitchen, I saw Trouble’s bare feet poking past the island. My heart felt like it would shatter like the glass beneath my feet.

I sped up as I walked closer, keeping a steady pace, not wanting to get distracted in case the nigga with a death wish popped out like Michael Myers, I was gon’ dead his ass like Jamie.

I crouched down next to my heart. I shook her gently. “Justice. Baby. Wake up for me.”

Nothing.

I checked her pulse. It was faint but present.

“Trouble. Come on, get up.” I tucked my gun and lifted her up. She groaned, so that was a good sign. Her gun was a few feet away from her.

“Shhhh, baby, I got you. Don’t speak yet.” I had a guest room on the main floor that I never utilized. It also contained a panic room. I was kicking myself in the ass for not including this in the tour I gave her.

I heard a sound that seemed to come from upstairs. I placed Justice on the bed in the room.

“I’ll be right back, baby. Stay here and don’t open the door.”

I kissed her and didn’t want to leave, but I needed to deal with the threat. I drew my gun again and moved through the house, checking each room to make sure it was clear. At the stairs, I spotted blood droplets on the floor and followed them. At the second landing, I paused, listening and checking the hallway in both directions. From the hall leading to my office, I heard a soft groan.

When I reached my office, light spilled from beneath the closed door. I saw a shadow of someone pacing back and forth. With my gun aimed and ready to peel a nigga muffin cap back, I pushed the door open.

“I know you fucking lyin’.”

My twin stood there, holding his arm. He hadn’t flinched when I arrived. My gun had lowered of its own accord until I noticed he was holding a gunshot wound. It was his arm that was leakin’ all over my house.

“Put the gun down, nigga,” he said in a calm tone—too calm for a nigga who broke into my house and possibly put his nasty dick-beaters of fingers on my woman.

“You broke into my house, and you think you can give me orders?”

“Well, how else was I supposed to get in here if you changed the code? Plus, I needed to talk to you.”

“Nigga. Naw, fuck that. What did you do to my girl?”