I got out and pulled her in for a hug, and she smelled like something expensive and fresh. I could already tell this night was going to be something special.
We went inside the bar and grabbed a table in the corner. We ordered drinks and we talked. Not small talk. Real talk. She asked me about my dreams and what I wanted out of life. I asked her the same. We laughed about our families. We shared stories about shit we'd been through. She told me about an ex that didn't deserve her. I told her about all the girls that tried to get with me for the wrong reasons.
The more we talked, the more I realized this girl was different. She wasn't trying to be something she wasn't. She wasn't impressed by money or status. She was just... real. And that made me want to be real with her too.
A few drinks in, the alcohol was hitting different. It was hitting good. We were both feeling it. Laughing harder. Sitting closer. Her hand on my arm. My hand on her leg.
"You wanna get out of here?" she asked, her eyes telling me exactly what she wanted to do.
"Hell yeah," I said.
We left the bar and went back to her place. She lived alone in a nice spot, on the east side, nothing too bougie but nice enough that you could tell she had her own money and her own shit going on. That impressed me even more.
When we got inside, I locked the door behind us. She turned to face me, and before I could even say anything, she was pulling me toward the couch. We were kissing, and her hands were already working at my belt.
"Hold up," I said, trying to slow down for a second. "You sure about this?"
Hell yeah I wanted to fuck, tonight too. But, I didn’t want her to think that that was all I wanted either. I really was feeling her ass.
"Don't question it," she said, pushing me back onto the couch. "I've been thinking about you since that day at the compound. I ain’t want to sound pressed last night, but I want you too.”
And with that, she was on her knees in front of me, pulling my pants down, and then her mouth was on me. I had my head thrown back against the couch, my hand in her hair, feeling like the luckiest nigga alive. She was working that mouth like she had something to prove, and I was here for every second of it.
This was the best day I'd had in a long time. Everything was right and I knew that in just a few minutes, I’d be fuckin the shit out of her. And then my phone rang.
I ignored it.
It rang again.
And again.
Something told me I needed to answer it. Something in my gut was screaming that this was important. Nobody called back to back like that unless something was seriously wrong. I was trying to ignore that feeling, trying to stay in this moment with Nyla, but my phone kept ringing like it wouldn't stop.
"Just answer it," Nyla said, pulling back and looking at me. "It might be important."
I was hesitant, but she was right. I reached for my phone on the table next to the couch. It was a private call. I took a breath and answered.
"Yeah, what's up?" I said, trying to sound normal.
"Aye, nigga," the voice on the other end said, cold and calculated in a way that made my blood run cold instantly. "Y'all niggas thought y'all were real slick with that shit y'all pulled yesterday, huh? I ain't never been the type to do tit for tat bullshit. That ain't how I move. I like to X niggas completely off the board. Wipe them out like they never existed."
My stomach dropped before he even finished his next sentence, but I couldn't stop him from saying the words that were about to destroy my entire world.
"Get your black suit ready," the voice continued, slow and deliberate. "Tell your mama to get that black dress out her closet. Get it pressed. Get it ready. Because we just took your big brother Zaire off the map, homie. You took out six of mine yesterday at that warehouse. I took out your bloodline. You fuck niggas played with the wrong one. Checkmate, fuck niggas."
The line went dead.
The phone slipped from my hand and fell to the floor.
I couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't do anything except sit there on this couch with Nyla staring at me, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened in the thirty seconds it took for my entire life to fall apart.
Zaire.
My big brother. My blood. My nigga.
Dead.
Hell nah. They wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t let them do that. He was too thorough to be caught slippin.
