Her Name Is Knight(Nena Knight #1)(31)

She groaned, accepting the ID. “Where were you when I needed this?”

“Indisposed.”

Georgia’s eyebrows furrowed as teen angst emanated from her. “I had to serve hours for two days.”

Nena’s blank stare prompted her to add, “After-school detention.” She slipped the lanyard over her head, patting the ID three times.

“For good luck,” she explained. “Thanks for bringing it.”

“You’re welcome, Georgia Baxter.” Nena slipped her hands into the back pockets of her dark denim jeans as she tried to think of what came next. Awkward. She wasn’t sure what to say to a kid. She didn’t usually deal with them in her line of work. What did people this young like to talk about?

Georgia toed the earth with her sneakers, eyeing Nena warily as the wind blew at the thick coils around her head. She brushed them back impatiently, her eyes moving all over: from Nena’s face to her car, to the ground, to Georgia’s Vans and Nena’s All Stars. All the while, Nena watched patiently and waited for the girl to say her piece.

“Are you like a cop or special agent or something? A spy, maybe? Mission Impossible or G.I. Jane, which is one of my favorite movies, by the way?”

Nena was amused. “Noted.”

Georgia grinned back. “Yeah.” She looked away bashfully, as if deciding whether she should continue.

“What’s on your mind?” Nena prompted, leaning back against her car. She wasn’t ready to leave just yet. And she wanted to figure out why.

Georgia took a step forward, her eyes trained intently on Nena’s. “The other night was like a scene right out of Black Panther.”

The tiniest smile played at Nena’s lips. She’d heard this before. She and Elin had gotten a kick out of the movie when it had come out, musing about how it captured the essence of the Tribe and Africa. Their dad had groused, “It’s nothing like Africa.” But his daughters knew he liked the idea of it as well.

She leaned in closer to Nena. “How—how did you . . .” She swallowed and cleared her throat. “The thing with the big guy’s neck. I didn’t think it was possible to break a neck with your bare hands.”

Nena cocked her head at an angle. “Separating the vertebrae is not typical or easy. It was the first time it actually worked.” Nena had thought Georgia’s eyes couldn’t get any larger. She was wrong.

“You must have a considerable amount of upper-body strength,” Nena added. “You can’t just twist it like you see in movies. More of a one-two-three combination and a lot of luck.”

Georgia’s gulp was audible, and five whole seconds passed before she could speak again.

Nena scanned their surroundings. What was keeping Georgia’s father? Most of the students had dispersed. The car riders’ line had thinned, and a group of four girls was headed Georgia’s way. Nena made ready to leave; she’d kept Georgia from her friends long enough.

Georgia squinted against the sunlight. “Anyone ever told you, you kind of look like Yetide Badaki from American Gods? Maybe Lashana Lynch? She’s the new 007, you know. Was in Captain Marvel too. Love her.”

Nena frowned. The girls were nearly upon them. “You watch a lot of TV.”

“What else is there to do?” Georgia countered. “You sort of sound like her too.”

Nena’s lips pursed. “Because all British people sound alike?” She rather enjoyed watching Georgia squirm.

“No.” Georgia’s hand shot out, grasping Nena’s wrist, to both of their surprise. Nena looked down at the light-pink polished fingernails. The last person who’d touched her without invite was no longer of this world. Gently, she twisted her hand from Georgia’s grip.

“I-I just mean you sounded like there was something else too.”

Nena nodded slowly. “The ‘something else’ is my Ghanaian accent. I also come from around London.” Why was she telling Georgia this? It was like Nena was trying to impress her.

“I get that. My mom was Haitian Cuban, and Dad’s African and Haitian, although I’m not sure where in Africa. It’s down the line.”

Nena didn’t respond. She wasn’t looking at Georgia, her attention hijacked by the arrival of the quartet. She straightened, palming her key fob so she could really leave this time. One chattering teen was enough for one day. Five was a nightmare.

Georgia turned to where Nena gazed and let out a groan. “Great. Sasha.”

The first girl, Nena assumed, the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, all-American girl who led the pack with the other three in tow. And from the way dread covered Georgia’s face like a death shroud, Nena could tell this Sasha was unwelcomed. The vibe emanating from her rubbed Nena the wrong way as well.

“Georgie, my driver’s here,” Sasha started, stopping nearly between them, forcing her way into the center of attention.

Right, kids here could afford fancy drivers, not Lyft or Uber, to drive them wherever they wanted to go.

Sasha asked, “Want a ride?”

Georgia pursed her lips. “My dad will be here soon.”

“Speaking of, what’s it like for your dad to have brains splattered all over his face?” Sasha asked, widening her sparkling blue eyes in faux concern. “Freaky, right? He’s okay?”