“They know better.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I want my cousin here, and I want a vape,” she said, jabbing a finger toward my chest. “I’m not staying in this big ass prison by myself.”
“You’re not by yourself.”
“Yes, I am.”
Her voice echoed through the hallway. “And if you think I’m about to sit here like some quiet little bride, you got me fucked up.”
I pushed off the doorway and walked toward her slowly.
“You finished?”
“Not even close.”
She stepped right into my space, fire blazing in her eyes.
“I said, give me a damn phone.”
I reached for her wrist.
Bad move.
Yuna moved faster than most men I’d trained.
Her hand slipped behind my back, fingers brushing the holster at my waistband.
Before the guards even realized what was happening?—
She had my gun.
The metal clicked softly as she pulled it free and lifted it straight to my head.
The hallway went silent.
Every guard froze.
Yuna tilted her head, the barrel steady against my forehead.
“Yeah, nigga,” she said quietly. “Ain’t think I was that quick.”
I stared down at her.
Unbothered.
“Now give me a damn phone.”
One of the guards stepped forward.
I lifted my hand slightly.
Don’t.
Yuna’s chest rose and fell, adrenaline burning through her body.
She looked proud of herself.
Like she’d finally won something.
