"I need you to make a run, I need you to take this bread to Sosa. He's expecting it tonight, and you know I don't trust nobody else to handle it."
My heart started pounding at the sound of Sosa's name. The man I'd locked eyes with at the club. The man who'd been on my mind all week even though I had no business thinking about him.
"I'm at Morgan's crib right now," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Aight cool, Swing by the spot first. Eric got that bread waiting for you.”
"The shop?"
"Nah, the other spot. On Stony." He paused, and I could hear him adjusting his glasses like he always did when he was thinking.
"Everything straight with you? You sound off."
"I'm good, bro. Just some shit on my mind.”
"Aight whatever it is, let that shit go, I need you to bust this move for me. This drop is important, Yasani. So, I don’t need no fuck ups.”
“I gotchu’,” I replied then hung up the phone.
I stood on the balcony for another minute, trying to get my head right. I was about to see Sosa again and I was lowkey excited about it.
When I stepped back inside, Morgan was on her phone again, texting rapidly. She looked up quick when she heard the door, putting it away.
"Everything good?" she asked.
"Yeah. Yatta need me to handle something." I grabbed my purse and jacket. "I gotta slide."
"Right now?" Morgan's face fell. "I thought we was chilling tonight."
"You know how it is. When Big bro call, I gotta move." She stood up, following me to the door.
"Where you going? I can come—"
"Nah, I'm straight." Something told me I didn't want Morgan knowing my business. "I'll hit you tomorrow."
"Okay. Be safe out there, sis." She paused, her voice dropping. "And Yah-Yah, watch that nigga Rylo. I got a bad feeling."
I looked at her hard. "You got a bad feeling, or you know something you ain't saying? Keep it a buck."
"I'm just saying." She wouldn't meet my eyes. "Protect your heart. We all know these niggas ain't shit."
“Heard!” I said throwing up the deuce sign.
As I walked to my car, I couldn't shake the weird energy from tonight. Morgan's obsession with Rylo's movements, the way she seemed to know too much about my nigga. None of it sat right with me.
I slid into my ride, with my mind racing. I started the engine and pulled off. In my rearview mirror, I could see Morgan in her window, phone pressed to her ear, talking to somebody.
Something wasn't right and I could feel it in my bones.
* * *
The spot on Stony was one of Yatta's low-key traps. It looked like a regular ass corner store from the outside, but the back room was where the real shit went down. I pulled into the alley behind it, killing my engine and checking my surroundings before I got out. You could never be too careful.
Eric was waiting by the back door, smoking a cigarette. He was one of Yatta's oldest soldiers, this nigga was damn near forty but still moved like he was twenty-five. When he saw me, he dropped the cigarette and crushed it under his boot.
"What's good, lil sis?" He dapped me up, then pulled me into a quick hug. "Yatta said you was coming through."
"Yeah, he got me running tonight." I followed him inside, through the storage room that smelled like bleach and old cardboard, into the back office where Yatta kept his shit locked down tight.