Page 100 of Sing For Us

Fuck.

My hands are balled into fists, and I’m restraining myself from attacking her.

“Are you there?” she asks sweetly.

Minx.

I catch myself staring and shake my head to regain focus.

“You were saying?” I ask her as I tap my Kevlar vest, doing everything in my power not to look at her.

“Are you ready? Your team is here.”

“I am.” I walk past her, but she grabs my arm.

We are standing side by side, and the tension is suffocating me.

“You are almost ready to kill your father. Don’t let him get inside your head.” Why is she concerned about me? I pull my arm away and drop my voice.

“I won’t. I want him dead.”

“He’s been manipulating you your whole life. It’s going to be tough.”

I glare at her and furrow my brows not wanting to mask my anger. She can’t fool me anymore. What does she know about caring for me?

She doesn’t remember you.

“What do you know about how hard it’s been for me? You know nothing. You don’t remember anything!” I raise my voice at her, and she takes a step to the side.

Confusion is etched across her face. “What do I need to remember?”

“Nothing!” I’m beyond angry and walk to my door to storm out.

“N-N-Noa! Don’t let him win!”

“N-N-Noa! Don’t go there. I’m going to tell your mama!”

“I will protect you. Your baba has put me in charge to play with you and to take care of you.”

“Weirdo!”

“Being weird means being cool.”

The momentum of me trying to storm out vanishes. My feet feel glued to the floor, and my muscles go completely rigid. A sharp audible gasp catches in my throat, and for a few seconds, I literally forget to breathe as my brain tries to process how she calls me.

My vision narrows, and the room goes silent. The heavy weight of the cleaver on my back and the gun on my hip suddenly feel entirely irrelevant. My heart begins to hammer against my ribs, loud enough that I hear it in my ears. For twenty years I built a hard, ruthless identity to survive. Hearing my name said like that strips away the armor, leaving me feeling exposed and raw.

“Weirdo.” I’m so quiet that Lana almost couldn’t hear me.

“Being weird means being cool.” Oh okay. Maybe she does remember. “But we need to go.”

There’s that. I hate that she can’t remember me, but I leave it and walk to my team, with Lana on my heel, ignoring the discomfort.

We have an empire to bring down.

Chapter thirty-seven

Noa