I looked at Chandler.
“You was wrapping up?” I asked.
She looked back, saw Trapp, and looked forward again.
“Yep.”
“Alright. Cool.”
I took the little to-go container we’d gotten and dropped Indy’s stuff into it, leaving a few fries for her to keep dipping in ketchup and eating while Chandler got Vienna’s leftovers packed. Dashawn hopped up to let us both out.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Drix?” Trapp addressed me as soon as he was close.
“Ay, don’t ever walk up on me like that when I’m with my family.” I looked up at him. “Next time I may take that as a threat and I ain’t ever played behind them. Take yo’ ass in one of them booths and I’ll get with you.”
“How are yo?—-”
I cut him off. “That shit wasn’t a suggestion. Back the fuck up before I knock you out.”
Dashawn clicked the safety off his gun and glanced at Trapp.
“You don’t see this man’s nieces right here?” he asked.
Trapp huffed but nodded. “We need to chop shit up ASAP though, nigga.”
“Yeah. A’ight.” I hopped up. “Come on, Indy.” I held my hand out to her and she took it as she climbed to her feet.
She turned and hugged Rome and high fived Merch before I plucked her up. She high fived Dashawn too then wrapped her arms around my neck. I lifted her a little higher and grabbed her container to hand to her mom. We waited for Vienna to hug Rome and everybody then me and Dashawn walked Chandler to her car. I helped her buckle the girls in safely then hugged her.
“Is it about to be some bullshit, Berlin?” she asked as soon as she buckled herself in.
“Nah.” I shook my head. She cut her eyes at me. I smirked and winked.
“You’re full of shit.”
“I love you too.” I took a step back and closed her door. She rolled the window down. “Get you and them babies out of here though. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay.” She exhaled. “I’ll reach out to Myome again and keep you updated.”
“A’ight.”
I took another step back and me and Dashawn watched Chandler drive off before we headed back.
Merch was walking out of the door before Dashawn and I even got to it, which wasn’t shocking. He was a real soft ass, R&B singing ass nigga. So whenever shit seemed like it was getting ready to go left, he got gone. Honestly, if he wasn’t part of Rome’s duo, we wouldn’t interact on a regular basis. I didn’t want to hang out with a man who couldn’t stand on his own ten and Merch preferred to hang around people who stayed cool and collected. That wasn’t me. Our personalities didn’t mesh. We coexisted for the cash and Rome.
“I’ll see y’all later,” he said.
“A’ight.” I dapped him and kept walking.
Dashawn pulled his gun before we even made it inside.
I made a beeline for Trapp. Rome hopped up. Trapp climbed to his feet before I made it to him, and as soon as I was close, I cocked back and punched him as hard as I could and watched him crumble. His henchmen hopped up but Dashawn had his gun out before they could even slide out of the booth.
“Be cool before I have to buy these people a new glass,” Dashawn warned.
I ripped a napkin from the nearby holder and tossed it to Trapp who was sitting up on the ground. He snatched it up and dabbed at his mouth.
“Don’t ever in yo’ mothafuckin’ life run up on me when I’m with my sister or nieces, nigga. I could fucking kill you.”