I sighed and leaned back against the booth. “Okay. So. First of all, everything that’s been happening the past few weeks has been weird. And stressful. And a whole lot of scary.”
Hyacinth froze. The smile fell from her face.
“Wait… huh?”
I hadn’t meant to drop it like that, but the words spilled out before I could stop them. “There was a drive-by.”
Her hand slapped over her mouth. “What? When?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“And you didn’t call me, Farrah?”
She was serious, now, her light-hearted demeanor overshadowed with worry.
“It happened fast?—”
“So do your Amazon deliveries, but you text me every time you get a package! You can’t text me when you almost get shot, though?”
Our food arrived at that exact moment, the waitress looking between us like she’d walked in on a breakup. Hyacinth made a scene of dramatically inhaling the food’s aroma and said in a sugary sweet voice, “Thank you, ma’am. This looks lovely.”
As soon as the waitress walked off, Hyacinth leaned across the table again. “Explain. Now.”
I started tearing apart a beignet to keep my hands busy. “Okay, so Brae told you about that black car that pulled behind me at MiMi’s house?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“And the flowers that dude gave me?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“That wasn’t romantic… I don’t think.” I frowned. Trell had made some strange statements toward me at that gas station. “It was a message.”
Hyacinth put her food down. “A message from who?”
I swallowed. “Trell.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Girl, who the hell is Trell and what he want?”
“That’s what we tryna figure out.”
“Who is we?”
I hesitated.
She narrowed her eyes.
I chewed my lip.
She gasped.
“Hy, please don’t.”
“You mean…Mekhi Venzant.”
“Oh, my God,” I groaned.
“I bet it ain’t God you been calling.”
