Page 41 of Apartment 214


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“You still breathing,” he said, completely off subject.

My brows pulled together. “What?”

“You woke up. That’s what matters most.”

He gazed at me, and the look in his eyes threw me off.

“That don’t have anything to do with what I asked you.”

“It got everything to do with it,” he said. “Fuck worrying about me abandoning you, let’s talk about what led up to it.”

My jaw tightened. “I remember.”

“Nah. I don’t think you do. You was out for a minute,” he said, quiet but firm.

I stared at him. “So what? You think I’m dumb now?”

“Never that. I just need you to remember. Let me hear it.”

I swallowed hard, forcing my face to stay straight. “You fill it in since you got all the answers.”

He shook his head. “If I had all the answers, I wouldn’t be tryna get you to talk about it.”

“You make me sick,” I sneered, and he blinked slowly, clearly unbothered.

“Just start talking.”

“You already know what happened.”

“Refresh my memory.”

Something about that irritated me, but not enough to shut me up.

“I pulled up, and that little voice in the back of my head was screaming at me to watch my back that night. I remember that much.”

“Why?” he asked.

I frowned. “What do you mean by why?”

“If things didn’t feel right, why didn’t you leave?”

I hesitated, trying to grab hold of something solid. “…Because I was supposed to meet somebody.”

“For what?”

“I-I don’t know,” I snapped.

“Think harder.”

My lips pressed together, my stomach churning as I fought against the fog. “I think it was to make a drop. Did we sell drugs or something?”

The moment the words left my mouth, a flash hit me, sharp and sudden, like a needle to the eye. I saw myself in a car. It was dark. There was a duffel bag. Twenty kilos.

I pressed my palms against my temples, trying to hold the image steady, but it was like trying to cup water in my hands. It was there, but the more I reached for it, the more it slipped away.

Booda dragged his tongue along his teeth, then looked away for a second before his eyes found mine again. “Keep going.”

“I was there to make a drop,” I said, though I wasn’t exactly sure.