Page 6 of Kissed By the Trillest Thug 2

“Don’t start,” I said, “just come here.”

He stepped into the room, and the second he got a clear glimpse of Tahari, I felt the shift in him without even looking directly at his face.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice low but tight.

“Stop asking so many questions,” I snapped before finally glancing at him. “And help me.”

That was all it took. He moved in without another word. Between the two of us, we got Tahari up carefully. His weight leaned heavily because his body was still unresponsive. Still, Giovani held him steady like he had done this before.

We moved down the hallway without speaking, the tension sitting thick between us. I led the way to the back room, which was Tahari’s old room. I hadn’t touched it since he left. Everything was still there, exactly how he had it. Inside the four walls was the same bed with the same setup. The mother in me didn’t want to touch anything just in case he ever needed to come back. The night he had moved out was so abrupt that he didn’t even take furniture with him; he told me that he would get all new things. He gathered his clothes, handed me his key, and then let the door slam behind him. That was months ago; still, when he got in trouble, the first place he thought of was the place that had been a second home to him. I blinked away the memory of his departure and then focused back on the task at hand.

We laid him down carefully, adjusting him so he wouldn’t put pressure on the wound. I checked his bandage one more time, making sure my work would hold. Then I stepped back. Givanni didn’t move right away. He stood there looking at Tahari like he was trying to make sense of something that didn’t come with easy answers. He was looking at the man he called brother, all bandaged up, and I knew that it had to hit him hard because currently, they weren’t even on speaking terms. After a moment, he grabbed the folding chair from the corner and pulled it beside the bed. He sat down without saying a word. I watched him for a second. So much had to have been going through his mind. I knew my son: When he got like this, more than anything, he needed his space. So, I quietly made my exit.

GHOST

I sat beside the bed with my elbows resting on my knees. I waswatching Tahari like I was trying to make sense of something that didn’t add up. I hadn’t seen this man for months, and now he was laid out in that bed like nothing had changed. Like he ain’t the one who walked out. Brothers argue, shit, they even come to blows like how we had, but they never left. He showed me what he was about when I came home the night we had fought, and Ma had told me that he was gone. The room was quiet, but it didn’t feel empty. Everything in it still had traces of him. Besides the furniture, it was little things he left behind that Ma refused to move. She always said people should have somewhere to come back to. I guess this was what she meant.

My jaw tightened slightly as I leaned back in the chair with my eyes still fixed on him. The last time we stood in the same space, it wasn’t like this. It was that alley. The tension was thick. Neither one of us dared to back down from how we felt. He said what he said. I said what I said. Coming to blows with my brother over a broad wasn’t on my things to do this year, but it happened. And now here he was. Back in the same room he used to sleep in. Bleeding all over my mama’s furniture. I let out a quiet breath through my nose while shaking my head slightly. Life has a way of doubling back whether you wanted it to or not. Even when I did have a moment of weakness and reached out to his bitch ass, he left a nigga on read. I sucked my teeth because now look at his ass.

For a second, I just watched him breathe. It was slow and heavy. Like his body was still trying to catch up to everything it had just been through. Then I noticed a slight movement in his hand. It was barely anything, but it was enough. My eyes narrowed just a little as I leaned forward, resting my arms on my knees again. And there it was again. His fingers twitched against the sheet, like he was fighting his way back up.

“Yeah…” I muttered quietly, more to myself than him. “Go ahead and wake up.”

My gaze stayed locked on him while I waited patiently. One thing I knew for sure was that when he opened his eyes, we weren’t about to sit here as if nothing happened.

Chapter 3

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.