Juelz groaned, adjusting himself. “Shit, it was. We been here all day and went to every store, Tasha.”
“Well, at least this last one made up for the long day.” She winked, opening the dressing room door and walking out like she ain’t just turned that whole stall into a porn set.
“I’m buyin’ this one,” she called back, informing the salesclerk.
Juelz followed, phone in one hand, wallet in the other. “Damn right you is. Whew!”
As the two headed out of the mall, they ran into a familiar face. Shyann. Her and Tasha had been friends for a couple of months now. They met at one of Tasha’s hair appointments and instantly clicked.
“Hey, Shy. What the hell you doin’ here, girl?” Tasha asked as she held on to Juelz’s arm while he carried the shopping bags.
“Shit, girl. I see y’all done bought out the mall and shit,” Shyann said as she peeked through their bags.
Tasha grinned and tugged Juelz’s arm tighter. “Umm-hmm. But finally, y’all two can officially meet. Jue, this my girl I be tellin’ you about, Shyann. Every time I try to introduce you two, somethin’ always comes up.”
Juelz gave her a quick nod and once over. “Whaddup?”
Shyann was eyeing him a moment too long. She finally found her words and replied to him. “Umm, nice to meet you finally. Tasha is always talking about you. Jue this and Jue that. Just done gon’ Jue crazy.”
Tasha flipped her hair and waved Shyann off. “Whatever girl. Well, I will call you later. Juelz ditchin’ me for his lil friends. So I have to roll. Maybe we can talk over drinks later.”
“Of course, girl, talk to you later.”
They hugged real quick, and Tasha strutted off with Juelz, still holding his arm like she was staking claim.
Shyann stayed there a minute longer, watching them fade into the distance, wishing she had something similar. Somebody who rides for her. Someone to irritate the hell out of her andjoke with. She’d been playing it cool, dating here and there, but damn… it had been a minute since anybody made her feel like that. Hell, likeanything.She turned, fixed her face, and headed to the food court like her heart wasn’t suddenly loud as hell in her chest. Ain’t no way she was going to let that loneliness start showing. Not out here.
The sun was hiding behind some thick-ass clouds as Juelz whipped the Charger onto Old Bay, his tires humming low over the busted pavement. This side of the ‘D’ always smelled like burnt oil and burnouts on forgotten streets that nobody asks questions about.
He spotted Mar leaning up against a souped-up black Yukon, arms crossed, hood pulled over his head. Real lowkey, but that burn in his eyes said everything. Juelz killed the engine and stepped out, checking his surroundings, and that Glock tucked just enough to show if you were paying attention.
“Whaddup, nigga?” Juelz asked, dap already cocked.
Mar pulled him in with a shoulder-hug and a tap to the back. “Cooling. You took long enough, nigga.”
“Yeah…yeah. I’m here now.”
“Shit got funny after that last drop,” Mar said, eyes scanning the street like muscle memory. “One of the runners ran his mouth, and now I’m hearing all kinds of shit.”
Juelz licked his bottom lip, irritated. “You handle it?”
“Bout to. That’s why I hit you up.” Mar opened the back of the Yukon, revealing a duffel with the type of weight that made a man disappear if he lost it. “This a lot of work, nigga. You need to make sure them lil niggas flip this shit quick.” Mar informed him as he zipped up the duffel. “But we need eyes on that apartment off Glade. I think somebody been watchin’ our movements andshit. Shit been lookin’ real funny lately. I think an undercover might be in that apartment or some shit.”
Juelz didn’t flinch. “You wanna put Meek on watch?”
“Nah,” Mar said, closing the trunk slow. “I need somebody that don’t make noise. In and out. Peep the scene. That nigga Meek might just go in the damn apartment.”
Juelz nodded once. “Shit, you right about that. I’ll probably get one of the other lil’ niggas to slide through tonight.”
“That’s a bet. Call me if he peep something off,” Mar said, pulling his hood tighter and sliding back in his truck. “Make sure them niggas don’t fuck this up. If they do. It’s all our heads.”
“I got it, nigga,” Juelz yelled while watching him pull off before lighting a Black & Mild and blowing smoke toward the darkening sky. Old Bay never stayed quiet for long. And neither did the streets.
“You sure you got this?” Juelz asked, looking Trig dead in the eyes.
He nodded, “Yeah, I said I got it. I ain’t no rookie, nigga.”
He was posted up in the passenger seat of the Charger, strap tucked, all nerves masked under that loud-ass confidence. Juelz studied him for a second longer. Trig always came with energy, too much of it sometimes, but right now Juelz needed eyes, not action.