“Friend,” Aria broke the silence as the car cruised down the highway. “You ok?”
“No talking,” the officer barked. “Almost twisted my ankle getting yall asses in this car.”
“Boy, don’t yell at me. Yall didn’t even ask my friend if she needed anything.”
“She was beating that man ass. What could she possibly need?” He questioned.
“Some water, a snack, or something.”
“I’m fine.” Tyler ignored the officer. “I’m just tired.”
“You should be,” he scoffed.
“I hope this makes you feel better,” Aria whispered, leaning forward. “Reach in my back pocket.”
Curiously, Tyler glanced at the front of the patrol car and then back at Aria, whose face held a goofy grin. Being that they were both cuffed, Tyler blindly felt on Aria’s backside until she felt the lump in her pocket. Pulling it out, Tyler burst out laughing before tucking her lips.
“I snatched that nigga chain,” Aria proudly boasted.
“Oh my god, I love your crazy ass.”
“I love you too.” Aria rested her head on Tyler’s shoulder. “Hey, can yall put us in the same cell, or on the same block? That’s what it’s called, right? A block?”
“Yall in the same cell?” The officer furrowed his eyebrows. “You better hope I don’t put her heavy-handed ass on the men's side.”
???
On the other side of town, Logic sat in the passenger seat of the car, shuffling two dice between his fingers. The gesture was something he did whenever he was thinking of a master plan. It was four in the morning, and while most of the city was rolling over to the other side of the bed, he was plotting.Money. The root of all evil, but the answers to a broke man’s prayers.
“Ok, listen,” Brandi whispered into the phone. “There are four trucks in the Royal Oak area this morning, but only two of them are carrying valuable items. From what I see, there are about ten iPads, a couple of game systems, household electronics, and more.”
“What’s the truck number?” Al, Logic’s best friend, asked. “And send the tracking information.”
“Nigga please, I’m not fucking with you like that.” Brandi frowned as if he could see her face.
“I’m not fucking with yo nappy headed ass either. Tell me the fucking truck number before I slap yo hoe ass.”
“I wish you would bring yo unruly ass to Westland. I’ll have the police on yo ass before you cross Ford Road.”
“Hoes get Section 8 and think they big shit. Keep talking and I’ll tell them people yo ugly ass baby daddy live there too. Send you and all them rugrats back to the projects.”
“Nig-
“Aye. Shut the fuck up. It’s four in the morning. I’m not about to listen to yall argue like scorned lovers,” Logic cut them both off. “What’s the truck number?”
“285116. Get that one, it has the most stuff,” Brandi pouted.
“Aight, cool. I’ll let you know when the job is done and when you can come pick up your portion.”
“And come alone because if you send your baby daddy, I’m definitely robbing that nigga,” Al added.Before Brandi could tell him to eat her pussy, Logic ended the call and glanced over at Al.
“Why you keep fucking with that girl?”
“That hoe was my peace, and I don’t know who told her to move out of the projects. She sucks dick, swallow, cook, and always got snacks. I miss chilling over there,” Al admitted. “Shit ain’t been the same since her baby daddy came home. Now she wanna be faithful like she wasn’t fucking me while that nigga was on the phone crying about missing his family. I was at the table eating pancakes with his kids while she was in the bathroom telling that man she’s keeping it tight for him.”
“You out cold,” Logic chortled.
“Nah, these hoes out cold. This bitch spoiled me and then dropped my ass.”
