“The Blackwell?”
“Yes.”
“As in Vice Blackwell?”
“Apparently.”
“Apparently?”
“Girl, yes… I didn’t even know he owned it until we got here.”
“We?”
I closed my eyes and shook my head, because… here we go.
“Vice brought me after I called and told him what happened.
“Hold on. Back up. Somebody broke into your apartment, and you called Vice?”
“I called the police too.”
“That wasn’t what I asked.”
I got out of bed and headed toward the bathroom. “I don’t know why I called him, Nia. I found a bullet and a note on my kitchen counter, I got scared, and his number was there.”
“A bullet? What?” I stopped walking and cursed under my breath. I didn’t mean to tell her that part yet. It just flew out my mouth without my consent. “What did the note say?”
“Basically to mind my business.”
“Basically?”
“Nia.”
“No, don’t Nia me. Somebody broke into your apartment and left a damn bullet, and you’re talking about basically?”
“I don’t want you panicking.”
“I know I’ve only known you but for two seconds, but too late…”
“I’m okay, girl.”
“You keep saying that like it’s supposed to make me feel better.”
I walked into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I looked exactly how I felt. Tired, stressed and nowhere near as okay as I kept telling everybody I was.
“The police came. Vice came. They checked everything, and I’m somewhere safe now.”
“So, how fast did Vice come?”
I frowned. “What?”
“How fast did he get there?”
“I don’t know. Fast enough.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“Don’t start.”
