Quietly, I fixed my eyes on the steering wheel, admiring how Flocco held it. And how he held me.
CHAPTER
EIGHT
MIAMI
With both hands folded in front of me with my fingers gripping my pistol, I maintained my stance. Back against the wall. Eyes surveying the area. A sweep every few seconds. Bundles of cocaine sat before me, piled toward the ceiling of the warehouse. There was so much snow that it could sheet the city of Miami and chill it for six months straight.
“Purest you’ll ever find in the state, Flocco,” Hugo promised, piercing the bag with his pinky nail.
It was longer than the others, a sign that he was getting high on his own supply. It was one of the first rules of the game and he’d broken it.
“You’re wasting precious breath trying to dump pointless product on me. I don’t sell cocaine, Hugo. This is no secret. I sellweed and you’re the connection between me and the best smoke on my side of the States.”
“Just try i–”
“Insult me again and this meeting will end,” I warned.
“Ah. A virgin nose.”
“And it’ll still be a virgin when I leave this bitch.”
“No fun. This is where the money is.”
“Uninterested.”
“Understood. Here–”
He waved over the man just a few feet away who seemed to only be three feet from the floor. He lowered the tray he’d been holding. In front of me were four strands of beautiful buds. I reached over, picking up the first nugget and rolling it between my index finger and thumb.
“Bag it up, Hugo. I’ll make my decision by Saturday night.”
“Sounds good, Brother.”
I tightened my grip on my gun, keeping it trained in front of me as I pressed my back against the wall again.
“Flocco, my man,” Hugo chuckled. “So tense. Lighten up.”
I flexed my shoulders. The tension caused pain. I made a mental note to have Trouble put those pretty hands to work. The manicure and pedicure I’d sent her to get to keep busy for a few hours while I ran the city making plays would come in handy.
“It’s a hundred niggas and a hundred guns in this bitch, Hugo. Ain’t shit light right now.”
“A soldier,” Hugo confirmed, turning to another man on his team. “I love him. Reminds me of my younger self. Whatever he chooses, put something extra on top for traveling all this way just to tell me he doesn’t want my cocaine.”
Quietly, I nodded.
“Good day now, Flocco. Enjoy my city. Any problems–call me. I know everyone. Everywhere.”
Four small bags were stuffed inside of a pouch and handed to me. I accepted it, placing it between my chest and underarm. Slowly, I trekked toward the exit, completely aware of my surroundings. Once in the truck, I didn’t hesitate to start the engine and smash the gas, burning rubber off the lot.
I emerged from the shadows, surrounded by docks and boats that belonged to the motherfuckers who’d already made it to where I was trying to go. Staying just under the speed limit after entering the freeway, I obliterated the distance between Trouble and I.
The urgency to hear her voice led me to my contacts. I scoffed after entering her name in the search bar. It dawned on me that she still hadn’t shared those digits.
Stubborn ass girl.
Needless to say, I was smitten with the rebellious kitten who played by her own rules and axed you from her life if you didn’t play by them as well. Hyph was a different breed. My kind of breed. Just my speed.
