Luxe by Ashley Antoinette

state.
    â€œKeep your ass down there, bitch!” the intruder barked as he leveled her with a sharp kick to the abdomen.
    She yelled out, completely broken, as her entire body quaked in torment. She had barely survived the gunshot wound. This attack would surely kill her. The pain alone would send her to her maker. It was like an earthquake, splitting her in two as the pain radiated through her entire body. She was too vulnerable to defend herself. She couldn’t run or fight back and she curled into a fetal ball, trying to shield herself from the blows.
    The man towered over her and flipped her over onto her back, causing their eyes to meet. “Any last words, bitch, before I send you to your maker?”
    She nodded, frantic, as tears built in her eyes. She opened her mouth and replied, “You’ll beat me there.”
    A look of confusion crossed the goon’s face.
    The bullet that Noah sent through the back of his skull ended him, and his body dropped to the floor. Deadweight. If Noah had shown up even a minute later … the thought alone made him shudder.
    â€œB,” Noah whispered as he rushed to pick Bleu up from the floor. She crumbled like the fragile girl she was, her tears free-flowing as he cradled her in his arms. He picked her up with urgency and rushed her to his room.
    â€œLock the door, Bleu. Don’t come out until I tell you to, you understand?” he asked.
    The look in his eye scared her, but she nodded her head in obedience. “Larry … he shot him … he’s … he’s … dead,” she cried out of shock more than sympathy. She had wished death on him for years and, finally, someone had come to serve Larry’s karma.
    â€œFuck Larry. He brought that nigga here, Bleu. Don’t cry for him,” Noah said before disappearing down the hall and closing the door behind him.
    *   *   *
    Overwhelmed, Noah sent his fist through the wall, damn near breaking his knuckles, and pulled it back. He placed the palms of his hands against the wall and breathed heavily as he bowed his head. He had started his day as a young hustler just trying to make a dollar and had ended it with two bodies on his street résumé. He knew that murder and money went hand in hand. He had to be ready for this, but it didn’t make it easier. He was selling his soul to protect one girl, but she was worth it. Noah shook his bleeding hand as he pulled out his cell phone with the other. He was about to make a call that he had said he never would. Drastic times called for drastic measures, however.
    Khadafi Langston was Noah’s father. He had never seen the man or even spoken to him before, but Noah’s mother ensured that Noah knew his father’s name. Noah had looked up the number almost a year ago and had never used it. His father had never been in Noah’s life; he didn’t even know if the man knew he had a son. The affair with Noah’s mother had been a one-night stand, a casual fling, but the birth of Noah Langston was the result. As chance would have it, hustling was in his blood. Khadafi was the biggest kingpin Flint, Michigan, had ever seen, and Noah was about to call him for the first time. Noah wasn’t dumb. He knew that he couldn’t get rid of the two bodies that were lying in the middle of his living room. That required resources … a professional, and there was only one man Noah could reach out to. Just as he was about to press dial, police sirens rang out in the distance.
    â€œNoah!” Bleu called in distress as she suddenly snatched open the bedroom door. “The police are coming up,” she said, frightened.
    Noah never got to make his call, as his brain went into overdrive. He rushed to Bleu and cradled her face while staring her in the eyes. “We have to get our story straight and we don’t have a lot of time to do it.”
    â€œHe came to the door with Larry.…