Five years after a betrayal that tore their world apart, Dime and Trevon's paths cross in unexpected ways. As attraction blooms in the shadows of their complicated past, they must face secrets that could change everything. In a world where trust is...
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TREVON GARDNER
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Jayda laid stretched out on the bed, her body tangled up in sheets, hair sprawled across the pillow. She watched Trevon as he pulled on his jeans, that lazy smile of hers creeping across her face. "Mmm, you slutted me out, Trev," she murmured, stretching her arms over her head.
Trevon smirked, slipping on his sneakers. "Ain that watcho freak ass was asking fa?"
Jayda's laugh was soft, but she turned her head, gazing at him with a warmth that surprised him. "Keep playin', Trev. One of these days I might just lock you down for real."
He shook his head, chuckling low. "Ion know about allat"
She gave a playful eye roll before her lids grew heavy. Within minutes, her breathing had evened out, her chest rising and falling slowly. Trevon let out a breath, watching her sink deeper into the sheets, peaceful. She'd probably be out 'til morning.
He grabbed his phone from the nightstand, staring down at the cracked screen. Same old contacts, just a handful of names left. Only one of them mattered, though—one name that stood out and pulled at him no matter how much time had passed
Trey.
Trevon's thumb hovered over the call button. He'd tried to reach out a few times since getting released, but each call had ended the same way—voicemail, disconnected tones, or no answer at all. He pressed the button again anyway, holding his breath as the line rang in his ear. Once. Twice. Then, the all-too-familiar automated voice: "The number you have dialed is no longer in service."
"Shit," he muttered under his breath, pulling the phone away from his ear. He clenched his jaw, a wave of frustration washing over him. It was like trying to reach a ghost, someone who'd vanished from his life without a trace.
Trevon couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in his gut, the nagging suspicion that something was off. Five years was a long time, but it wasn't long enough to forget your brother. And Trey was more than just a friend—he was family.
He hadn't seen Trey since that night. The memory felt like a scar that hadn't healed—police lights flashing, sirens blaring, and the two of them being dragged away in different directions. He could still see the look on Trey's face, wide-eyed and panicked, as they shoved him into a separate squad car.
