I said, giving him another confirmation that I was serious. Before I could say anything else, he grabbed me at the hips and then filled me with his essence. He rested his forehead on my shoulder while we both breathed deeply.
“I love you, Eternity.”
Every time he said those three words, I cherished them because there was a time when he was hesitant to even say them to me.
“I love you most,” I responded before turning around and kissing him.
TRIGGA
The bass was heavy enough to rattle your chest. It was the kind of vibration that could give a nigga a migraine. Neon lights bounced off sweat-slicked skin while bodies moved like one living organism, drunk on liquor, money, and the illusion of freedom. Miami Beach was exactly what Ghost said it would be: fast, loud, and full of people looking to escape something. And tonight, we had that escape for them all. I asked him where we were going to find the clientele to buy this coke, and his ass came up with no place other than Miami Beach. He had a home boy who worked as a bouncer for one of them, and he said powder heads frequented the location often. Most of the clubs out here were filled with young white people looking to catch a score.
I leaned against the bar with a cold drink sweating in my hand as my eyes scanned the club. I wasn’t looking for women, and I damn sure wasn’t looking for trouble. We were there for opportunity. Ghost stood a few feet away, already locked in with a group of drunk college kids. His mouth was moving fast and casual like he wasn’t out here pushing stolen weight that could get us both buried if the wrong person caught wind. Lining our pockets off product that didn’t belong to us didn’t feel right. A price to pay felt like it was going to come with something likethat. I was so stuck in my thoughts that I didn’t see that Ghost was now standing beside me.
“Stop thinking so damn hard,” he muttered, “you look like you’re waiting on something bad to happen.”
I took a slow sip of my drink, letting the burn settle in my chest before answering. Once he slid the bartender a little baggie, her ass didn’t check our IDs for the rest of the night. I saw him pushing our little baggies all through this club all night. It seemed too good to be true.
“I don’t like easy money.”
Ghost smirked as he glanced around the club with pride. Half of everybody in that muthafucka had bought from us, well, him.
“Ain’t nothing easy about what we did. We earned this.”
I didn’t respond because arguing with Ghost was like arguing with a brick wall. Most of everyone around us was high as a kite, and it did feel good making this money, but still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we were moving too loud.
We stood in the middle of the club dealing damn coke. The shit felt a bit too visible to me. Before I could say anything else, one of the girls Ghost had dealt to earlier slid back up to him. She had a sweaty coat that glazed over her porcelain skin. I could tell that she was high as hell just by the way her blue pupils were dilated. She whispered something in his ear. He listened, nodded once, and then looked over at me with a look I knew too well. That “this might be something” look. I pulled him over a bit so that the girl couldn’t hear our conversation.
“What?” I asked.
“She got a friend,” he said lowly while stepping closer in my direction, “he’s been watching us move tonight.”
My grip tightened slightly around my glass.
“Watching how?”
“He wants some of what we got. She said his pockets are heavy,” Ghost shrugged like it was nothing.
That made my guard go up.
“His ass is probably a cop,” I said flatly.
Ghost let out a quiet laugh.
“Cops don’t send snow bunnies to do introductions in VIP.”
“You ain’t never seenChicago PD?They always send a white bitch in with pretty eyes and a nice smile. Plus, we ain’t from here. You don’t know what they do down here,” I shot back.
He studied me for a second, then leaned in just enough so only I could hear him.
“We ain’t come to Miami Beach to play it safe, Trigga. Either we run it up… or we go back with the same problem we came with: weight we can’t move.”
I hated it that he put it like that. Because he wasn’t wrong. Before I could respond, the girl stepped aside, and that’s when I saw who she was talking about.
He was a white dude who looked like he was in his early thirties. His hair fell into his face a bit, and his clothes were too relaxed. I could tell by his threads that he wasn’t an undercover cop because it was easy as hell to spot their kind. They all walked around looking like fucking John Cena. This man in front of me was different, though. I could tell. He carried himself like he didn’t need to prove anything. Which in our world either meant that he had money or power. Sometimes both. He approached us slowly. It was evident that he understood space. It was like he knew making men like us uncomfortable would get him checked quickly.
“Fellas,” he said with his voice calm, “my name is Ryan.”
I didn’t offer mine, but Ghost offered his. Ryan’s eyes flicked between us, and he had this opportunist look in his eye. This man looked like he knew exactly what he wanted.
