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Two weeks.

That’s how much time has passed since I broke every single rule I was supposed to follow while I was Gangland.

Don’t lose focus.

Don’t make bonds.

Don’t reveal too much of yourself.

And, most of all, don’t fall in love with the enemy.

But two weeks ago, Mecca walked into my space like he owned it, smoked up my calm, stripped off my defenses, and laid claim to my body like I was his reward for surviving a war we didn’t even know we were fighting.

And now, after having my entire world uprooted, I was still here in Gangland, trying to put it all back together. Trying to make sense of the tornado I walked headfirst into.

I sipped from a mug full of lukewarm coffee and stared at the notes scattered on my table. A new group of photos, notes and intel was sent to me from my boss after I sent in a request to retrieve all the information that we had on Monster and I was trying to make sense of it.

While Monster was the one making the most noise in Gangland, due to the fact that he loved to be the center of attention, there was very little research on his influence on Gangland. Most of the attention was on Mecca, the one who always operated behind the scenes. It was odd that with so much focus on reducing the crime in the city, one of the main forces behind it—the easiest one to put hands on—was barely even being looked into.

Sighing, I grabbed my notebook and cracked it open for the first time in weeks. Two weeks to be exact. That one night with Mecca had completely thrown off my routine to the point that I was barely even working anymore. An entire week had passed before I even looked for my notebook and at first I couldn’t find it. I flipped out instantly, thinking that maybe Mecca had gotten to it until it resurfaced a few days later. It was at that point that I realized just how off I had become.

C’mon, Ali. You need to get your shit together. Get your head in the game. This isn’t like you.

It wasn’t.

But I guess that was the Mecca effect.

Amidst the files, photos and notes I’d taken over the months that I’d been there was my phone: face-down on the table in front of me. My heart felt like it was clenched tight as a fist around a secret I still hadn’t told a soul. One that Jay now knew.

Jay’s messages had started out emotional. Hurt. Confused. Then came the anger. The accusations. He was spiraling and was trying his hardest to take me with him.

I couldn’t respond to him. I wasn’t ready. Not because I didn’t have the words… But because I knew once I opened that door, I’d be expected to justify something that didn’t feel like a mistake. And I didn’t want to shrink myself to make him feel bigger.

The reality was that I didn’t regret a thing. Being with Mecca was an experience like none other. I would say it was like a taste of heaven if it hadn’t felt so utterly sinful. It was sweetly sadistic. Everything about it was passionate and primal. Wild and untamed. God, I couldn’t get enough.

I started flipping through my notes again. Everything I’d logged during my time here—the coded behavior, the patterns, the players—all pointed to one thing: Mecca wasn’t the biggest threat.

He was dangerous, but he was controlled. He was the necessary evil that kept everything in balance. He moved with intention. Every action was met with an equal and opposite reaction that was for the good of all involved.

On the other hand, Monster only moved according to what was best for him. He had no limit to what he would do if it could spare him a single minute of hell. He would get his own grandmother addicted to dope if it would fill his pockets. No one was off limits.

He moved different. Louder. Sloppier. With an arrogance that didn’t match Mecca’s discipline. Clearly, the only real threat in Gangland was him. And yet, despite all the signs, doubt crept in.

Was I only seeing what I wanted to see?

I rubbed my eyes, then picked up my phone. Flipped it over and ignored the message icon. Forced myself not to read yet another one of Jay’s bipolar texts. Some days he loved me, others he hated me. I never knew what type of time he was on.

Instead of opening a door for his insanity, I scrolled to Floria’s contact and hit call.

It rang a few times and then, finally, I heard her voice on the line.

“So… You alive?”

“Girl…” I chuckled. “Barely.”

“Ain’t heard from you in a while. I figured shit must’ve been getting real… Couldn’t do nothing but pray you were good. What’s going on?”

I sighed. “Everything and nothing. To be real about it, I don’t know.”

Floria paused for a while, taking all that in. After decades of friendship, she could read beneath my words to the things I couldn’t say.

“Hold on, let me put my wig on so I can sit outside. I don’t need Darryl in our business. “

Before I could say anything, I heard shuffling as she did just that. Floria didn’t do anything without making sure her wig was in place first. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if her own husband knew what her actual hair looked like.

“Alright, I’m ready,” she said once she was back on the line. I heard a door shut behind her. “Talk to me.”

I looked at the window, watching a young boy ride his bike down the block like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“I think I’m losing it, Flo. I can’t tell if I’m letting my feelings cloud my judgment or if my gut’s right.”

“You talking about…” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Mecca? I thought you said he might not be the real problem. You don’t trust him?”

“Yeah. No. I mean, yes, I did say that. But it’s more than that. I think Monster’s the real threat. But part of me wonders if I just want Mecca to be innocent.”

Floria sighed into the phone. “Ali, you always do this.”

“Do what?”

“Try to make sense out of chaos. Girl, you can’t logic your way out of feelings. You either trust your gut or you don’t.”

I bit down on my bottom lip. “I don’t know if I can trust it anymore.”

“That’s a lie,” she snapped. “Since the day I met you, your intuition’s been sharper than most people’s full investigation teams. The only time you’ve ever fumbled was when you started second-guessing yourself because of the opinion of some man.”

I swallowed hard. “You mean Jay.”

“But not just Jay. I mean whoever. You’ve been the strongest woman I know in every area except love. That’s where your logic turns into jelly.”

That made me laugh, even through the lump in my throat. “Why are you dragging me like this?”

“Because you called me. And because I love you. Have you talked to Jay about any of this?”

I was quiet for a beat. “He doesn’t understand why I have to do this.”

“Of course he doesn’t. This mission isn’t for the weak and Jay wants safe. He wants you soft. Easy to mold—”

“You mean manipulate,” I cut in.

“I wasn’t going to go there but… yes,” Floria confirmed. “You can’t give him that and still be who you are.”

“But I miss him.”

“Missing someone don’t mean you belong with them. You gotta stop trying to fit your lion-sized heart into the tiny ass birdcage he wants to keep you in.”

That line hit me dead in the chest.

Hard enough to make my throat tighten.

I looked around at the apartment I was in—this temporary space, these temporary feelings, this whole temporary version of myself—and realized just how much I’d been shrinking. Folding.

Bending myself into shapes just to be digestible for a man who didn’t even have the appetite for the real me.

Jay never asked me what I needed.

He only told me how much he needed me—then got mad when I couldn’t bend my wings to fit inside his little box of expectations.

I wasn't made for that.

I was made to climb ladders. To break down walls. For standing in rooms where no one expected me to be, and owning that space like I was born in it.

And yet... here I was.

Heart sick.

Mind cluttered.

Trying to find clarity between man who couldn’t even find himself and a man who was forbidden.

Maybe that was the problem.

I kept looking for grounding in places that were already burning down.

“I just… I wish I could talk to my dad about this.”

“I know, babe. But you can’t. And you knew that the moment you took this case. And it was probably part of the reason you did. You wanted to do something on your own. To prove that you were capable. Now you’ve got it. This is on you.”

Just like a best friend, she was serving me the dirty truth, all love with no filter. It hurt to hear it and I knew she was right. I was just so overwhelmed. I’d never been so homesick in my life. So needy for safety, security, and comfort. I’d never felt so alone. But I couldn’t go home.

Tears prickled behind my eyes. “Floria, I’m tired.”

“I know. But you gotta finish this. You’re not just doing it for the bureau. You’re doing it for the little girl who had to survive out there. The one who needed someone like you to make her world safe.”

I let her words sink in.

“The only approval you need right now is your own,” Floria said quietly. “And if your gut’s telling you that Monster’s the one pulling the strings, then trust that. Trust yourself.”

I nodded slowly. “You’re right.”

“I always am.”

I smiled through the ache in my chest. “So what do I do about Jay?”

“You do what you should’ve done two weeks ago when he first showed up jeopardizing your mission and putting your life in danger. Cut it. It doesn’t have to be forever if you don’t want it to be. Just until you finish up there. So you can do it without distractions.”

I didn’t respond right away. She was right; I definitely needed to distance myself from Jay in order to focus on what I was doing, but I didn’t see him taking it well. That was the main reason I was avoiding it.

“Ali.”

“Yeah?”

“I already know what you’re thinking but it’s not going to work. You can’t dig your head in the sand and make the problem go away this time. You can’t do what you are there to do with him hanging on you like dead weight. Especially if he’s throwing doubt in the mix and telling you that you shouldn’t even be there and that your instincts aren’t on point. You don’t need that negative energy.”

I let out a heavy exhale. “You’re right.”

“I know,” she quickly shot back. “I’m always right.”

I rolled my eyes. “Except when it comes to your own shit.”

“Yeah, well, we ain’t talkin’ about my drama right now. And thank God for it. That’s a whole other story that I’ll catch you up on once you get back home.”

Once we said our goodbyes, we hung up. But I didn’t move right away. I sat in the silence, letting her words echo in the space around me.

I turned to look at my phone again, not to block Jay—but to really look at his name and really feel into the feelings that thinking about him brought to me. To remember what we used to be before this mission, before Mikhail, before the tattoo exposed more than I meant it to.

I couldn’t let it end like this. Not over text. Not in silence. Not even with a call.

If I was going to do this, I had to pull a Jay on Jay.

I needed to pop on him just like he did to me.

Make him look me in the eye and say everything he needed to say. Make him give me the space to let my heart speak. If this was really going to end after all this time, it needed to be the right way so I could really move on.

The shop was closing down for Memorial Day weekend anyway. I had time.

Plus, I needed clarity. Not just for me—but for whatever was about to come next.

Click here for Chapter Two.