3. Trigga
Trigga
Coming back felt slow, like my body was dragging itself up from somewhere it didn’t want to leave.
My head was heavy. My thoughts were all over the place, and the pain in my arm settled in first. It was deep and constant, reminding me this wasn’t any regular sleep.
Then everything clicked into place. Some places just had a signature smell, and Ms. Gia’s crib always had the scent of mothballs and lavender.
I didn’t need to look around twice to figure it out because I already knew where I was.
The ceiling above me looked the same. I hated these damn popcorn ceilings.
The walls were unchanged, and the space I was in was holding onto a version of me that didn’t exist anymore.
For a second, I just lay there, letting it sink in, knowing that out of all the places I could’ve ended up, this was the one I chose without even thinking.
In my time of need, I ran to the only place I knew I would be safe.
The same place that I had run away from.
I shifted slightly, and the pull from the stitches made my jaw tighten.
The movement forced me to turn my head, and that’s when I saw him.
Ghost was sitting beside the bed, leaning forward in a folding chair, watching me like he had been there the whole time.
I don’t even know how long I was out, so he probably was.
His expression didn’t give much away. It never did, but being how we had left things off between us, not being able to read him was unsettling.
Especially while I was in this condition.
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
We didn’t need to. Everything from that alley sat right there between us.
Our problems were untouched and unresolved.
Then he leaned back slightly with his eyes still on me.
“So, this is what we are doing now?” he said with his tone dry. It was like he was almost amused. “You just show back up here because ya ass got popped?”
Despite everything, I let out a faint breath through my nose. Ghost’s ass was about to give me a hard time, which I figured he would.
“I ain’t plan on coming here,” I said, my voice rough but steady. “I just hoped Ms. Gia would be here.”
He studied me for a second, like he was deciding how far to take it, then the sarcasm faded just enough for something more real to come through.
“What happened to you?” he asked.
I held his gaze for a moment before answering.
“Maliah’s father shot me.”
Ghost straightened slightly in his seat, and his whole energy shifted.
“Oh, nah,” he said, a sharp edge sliding into his voice, “we gotta ride on this old ass nigga.”
I shook my head slightly, and the movement pulled at my arm.
“Sssss,” I hissed from the pain. “Na, we can’t. He found out it was me.”
Ghost’s expression tightened just a little.
“Found out what was you?” he asked, even though I could tell he already knew.
“That I robbed him,” I answered.
I didn’t need to tell him that I took the entire fall for that shit because one thing he knew about me was that, despite us falling out, I was solid. The room went quiet after that. Not the same silence as before either. This one was different. It was filled with some other shit.
Ghost leaned back again, but this time he didn’t say anything right away.
His eyes dropped for a second. His mind was clearly working through it.
I could see the doubt in his eyes, and that told me that he and I had drifted so far apart that he didn’t even trust me anymore. So, I said what needed to be said.
“I ain’t mention you.”
His head lifted instantly. For a brief second, something shifted in his face; it was subtle, but there. This muthafucka was relieved. I took the whole robbery on the chin. Mind you, the shit was his idea to begin with.
He leaned back into the chair again and let out a quiet breath before his gaze drifted upward toward the ceiling.
And just like that, I knew where his mind went.
Neither one of us said it out loud. We didn’t have to.
But I’m sure, like me, that Maliah crossed his mind.
Her fucking father shot me. What kind of future would that be?
Although, Mr. Browne did urge that I stay away from her.
My life depended on it. Ghost leaned back in the chair, watching me in a way that told me he had already put the pieces together before I even opened my eyes.
“You know you gotta leave Maliah alone, right?” he said.
His tone wasn’t loud or aggressive. But the tone of his voice let me know that he wasn’t saying it to hear himself talk.
I held his gaze for a second before answering.
“I know,” I said. “Her father already told me that.”
That made something shift in his expression. He wasn’t surprised by the information; he nodded his head more like confirmation that he had agreed with Mr. Browne. He let out a short breath and leaned back a little further before shaking his head.
“Well,” he said, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth, “you lucky he left you alive.”
Despite everything, I let out a quiet breath through my nose.
“Yeah.”
He looked at me for another second before opening his mouth again.
“And I ain’t miss that part either.”
I frowned slightly.
“What part?”
“The part where you ain’t say my name,” he said. “I appreciate that.”
I nodded once. I was always going to stand ten toes. That’s how my daddy raised me. Even if he had forgotten the kind of person I was, this should have been his reminder.
“I wasn’t going to.”
For a moment, the tension in the room eased just enough to breathe.
Ghost shifted in the chair again. This nigga was moving around like he had ants in his pants, and it was pissing me off.
It didn’t take much to annoy me, but whenever he was uncomfortable with some shit, he did this.
His posture relaxed slightly as he looked at me.
“So, what are we doing? Are we leaving that little alley situation where it’s at?”
I held his gaze, then gave a small nod.
“Yeah,” I said.
It was simple. Especially now. I had a hole in my damn arm; the last thing that I wanted to do was replay the small fight between him and me.
Because the truth was, the fight didn’t even feel important anymore, not after this.
As I lay there, my eyes drifted toward the ceiling again.
Reality started to settle in. This girl’s father really fucking shot me.
I couldn’t be around Maliah, not after her father’s threat to stay away.
And once that fully sank in… That whole fight we had didn’t even matter anymore.
MALIAH
I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my outfit for the third time even though I already knew it looked good.
I turned sideways to take in the whole look.
The music playing low in the background filled the room, but my attention wasn’t really on any of it.
It kept drifting back to my phone. Tahari should’ve been here by now.
Or should have at least called. Earlier when I went shopping for this very outfit, he told me that he was going to do a couple of runarounds with my dad.
Then he would go home to get together before coming to pick me up.
That was hours ago. The whole day went by, and I hadn’t heard anything from him.
I picked my phone up again, staring at the screen like it might suddenly change.
My last call still sat there unanswered, right under the text I sent that hadn’t been delivered yet.
That wasn’t like him. A small crease formed between my brows as I tried to shake the feeling off.
Maybe he was caught up in something. Maybe his phone died.
Maybe… My thoughts didn’t sit right. I let out a quiet breath and set my phone back down, but I didn’t step away from it.
Something in my chest felt tight, like my body was trying to tell me what my mind didn’t know yet.
That’s when I heard it, a knock against my doorframe.
I turned slightly, and my father was standing there, leaning just enough into the doorway to let me know he had been there longer than a second. For a moment, I just looked at him. Then the question came out before I could stop it.
“Have you heard from Tahari? He told me earlier that y’all would be together, but I haven’t heard from him.”
His expression didn’t change.
“Yeah,” he said.
That answer alone made my stomach drop. I straightened slightly while turning fully toward him. My dad wasn’t an explainer and never had been. If you wanted anything from him, you had to ask and then hope that he was willing to tell you anything.
“What do you mean, yeah? You spoke to him?” I asked. “When?”
He didn’t move from where he stood, and something about that made the tension in my chest tighten even more.
“You’re not going to be seeing him anymore,” he said.
Just like that. My dad’s tone was flat and held no buildup. There wasn’t even an explanation to his request. The words didn’t even process right at first.
“What?” I asked, my voice was sharper than I intended.
I never carried this tone when talking to my father, but this shit didn’t make any sense to me.
“You heard what I said,” he replied evenly.
I shook my head. Confusion was mixed with panic, and I hated this feeling. Tears started to build in my eyes.
“No, I didn’t,” I said. “What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t I?—”
“That’s enough,” he cut in.
His tone wasn’t loud, but it shut everything down instantly.
I stared at him, waiting for more, waiting for something that made sense. But it didn’t come.
“Why?” I pushed anyway, my voice cracking as tears slid down my cheeks. “What happened?”
For a second, it looked like he might say something else. Then his expression closed off.
“That doesn’t concern you. I said what I said.”