It’s a long shot, finding anything in her phone. Van was very adamant in keeping her above board here and their hometown down south. So she’s green as fuck, but that would be the very reason why I find something in her phone.
I don’t have time to go all through it myself, so I take out my little prototype USB-C and connect it to her phone. Usinga specific program I created, anything flagged with certain code words in her cloud will automatically come up on the screen for me.
A couple seconds later, shit starts popping up, and my temper flares so bad I almost drop her phone. I’m almost mad at myself that I didn’t realize none of the bullshit she’s been up to this whole time.
But at least she ain’t trap me.
I click on an old video, one before Sahara got that crazy ass bbl, and watch all two minutes of it.
Bitch lucky I never got anything or I’d strangle her myself.
Cheating? On me?
And getting caught like the rookie she is. Part of me wants to throw this in her face and act like I ain’t been dipping in finer, all-natural hoes this whole time. Shit, I’ve never been caught, so it really doesn’t count in my mind.
I take my USB-C out and pocket it, putting her phone back in her purse. My intrusive thoughts tell me to launch this shit at her back, but I don’t want her ass to wake up, so I just toss it onto the bed and take my kit out, sitting next to where she’s passed out.
I load the syringe up with one of G-Pops hookups, an undetectable tracker, and stick it into the bend of her wrist. She barely bleeds when I take the syringe out, and when I wipe it after keeping pressure for a couple minutes, nothing looks different.
I take a second to really look at her. At one point, I thought she’d be who I spent the rest of my life with. Then I thought, when she finally got enough of me, I’d still make sure she was straight, off the strength of her sister.
Now though? The shit she mixed up in? She’ll be lucky if she make it to the end of the year.
I leave her where she’s at and make my way back to my crib. Van doesn’t sleep much, especially when she’s OT, so after I shower and put on a fresh pair of draws, I call her.
Just as I thought, she answers on the second ring.
“I heard you popped back up. Why the late phone call, Shaddy?”
I sigh, trying to find the words.
“Aw shit. What that girl do now?”
I lick my lips and rub my neck. “It’s bad, Van. She got me so fucked up bro… I’ve killed for less. But even if I spare her, and get my bros to look the other way, the people she’s mixed in with won’t. I can try to get them all before they catch on but it’s no guarantee.”
The line is silent for a long moment. I don’t even hear her breathing. It’s been Van and Sahara since they were ten and three. For all the shit Sahara has done and seen for them to have a good life, a life together, Sahara resents her because she shielded her from most, if not all of it.
Just for Sahara to end up in the same bullshit anyway.
“What if I hide her?”
“Do you honestly think she’ll listen to you, Van? If you do, then do it.”
She sighs audibly, and I know she’s running her hands through her locs.
“Would… w-would Bully know–”
“Savannah. Please,pleasetell me you not back home visiting that nigga,” I seethe.
“It’s not like that. But would he know the people she’s mixed up with?” her voice is low, and filled with shame, like it should fucking be.
“Yeah, Van. He would know them. Intimately. So do with that what you will. This my only warning about your sister, bro. Ifyou can get her out the city under a rock, do that ASAP. But once it’s out of my hands, that’s it.”
“Thank you, Shaddy. I’ll link with you once I get back.”
“Yeah, you do that.” I hang up on her and groan.One thing at a time.
Dr. Bell would tell me it’s not my problem. Not my monkey, not my circus, she’d say. But as much as I know it’s not, it’s just not how I’m built. I can’t and won’t let my friends lose themselves, whether I’m good or not.
