“Then let me in because I’m about ready to dig a hole for her loudmouth ass.”
“No need. Her people going to come scoop her,” Logic informed him, making his way into the kitchen.
“You told them where you live?” Al bucked. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“It’s cool. It’s her best friends. They thanked me,” he said, extending the blunt so he could start making breakfast.
“Straight up?”
“Yep.”
“Oh, aight. Luckiest nigga I know,” Al sighed in relief. “Rah called me and said the show tonight starts at 8. I asked him if kids could come, he said yea.”
“Good looking, the troops are going to be happy.” Logic beamed, pulling contents out of the refrigerator.
“The fuck is you about to cook?”
“I was going to make her a grilled cheese sandwich, something to put on her stomach.”
“Nigga her mean ass can eat when her people come get her.”
“Nah, I'mma feed her.” Logic grinned.
“Oh, hell nah. Let me move the fuck around. You got stars in your eyes and shit. Listen to me closely, you can’t keep her, so stop looking like that.”
“Fuck outta here. How many times I done made your ass food after we got fucked up?”
“That’s different, I’m your best friend, nigga. She’s a-
“I’m a what?” Tyler rounded the corner. Logic peered over his shoulder and almost dropped the carton of eggs. “What?” She self-consciously ran her hand over her blonde fade.
In the bathroom, Tyler thought about using the glue in the medicine cabinet to fix her lace but decided to take it off instead. She used the Kaleidoscope shampoo and conditioner to scrub her head and the CeraVe facial wash to cleanse her face. By the time Tyler exited the shower, she felt like a new woman, and smelled like one, too.
“Damn, that was quick.” Al spun around. “And where yo hair go?
“Boy, fuck you. I know you didn’t think I was about to soak in the tub while yall figured out how to get rid of my body. Andwhat’s wrong with my hair?” She grilled, placing her hand on her thick hip.
“Nothing,” Logic answered. “You look better without all that shit. You hungry?”
“You feed all your detainees?” Tyler tooted her lips.
“Chill, you’re not being held captive. Do you want the sandwich or not?” he snapped, losing his cool.
“Yea, and don’t be yelling at me,” she popped back, taking a seat next to Al. “Where’s my phone?”
“Over there.” Logic pointed to the other side of the counter where her purse sat. Al reached over and handed it to her. “Don’t cut your location on until you leave.”
“I’m not,” Tyler assured him, powering her phone on. “Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for drugging me, stuffing me in a trunk, and kidnapping me.”
“We should’ve put your ass in the trunk,” Al hissed.
Ignoring him, Tyler sighed as her phone started going off like crazy. Text messages, voicemails, tags, mentions, and tweets flooded her notifications.
Dexter
2:45 AM
Baby, where you at?
