Yah-Yah was looking at me, her face desperate. "Sosa, please tell me you can get it. Please tell me you can bring our baby home."
"I'm gon’ get it," I said,
"I'm gon’ get every fucking dollar and I'm gonna bring our son home."
"Promise me, Bae" she sobbed, crawling over to me, grabbing my face with both hands.
I pulled her into my arms, holding her as tight as I could. "I promise, baby. I swear on everything, I'm bringing Sontae home."
She broke down completely, her whole body shaking with sobs. I held her, but inside I was already moving. Already calculating. I had money stashed in different places, I had product I could move quick, and I had connections that owed me favors.
Five million in seventy-two hours.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Yah-Yah
Seventy-two hours had came and went, and my baby still wasn't home.
I couldn't sit still. I couldn't eat and I couldn't fucking sleep. I couldn't do shit but pace back and forth in the living room like a caged animal. My feet were hurting, my head was pounding, but I couldn't stop moving because if I stopped moving I'd have to sit with the thoughts, and the thoughts were too dark, too scary, and too fucking real.
Sosa had been gone all morning, he said he was handling business, but something felt wrong. Something felt off.
Every time a car drove past the house, my heart would jump. Every time my phone made a sound, I'd snatch it up thinking it was news about Sontae. But it was never nothing. Just people sending prayers and condolences like my baby was dead.
He wasn't dead. He couldn't be dead. I wouldn't survive that.
"Mya, what time is it?" I asked, my voice hoarse from crying.
"Almost two," she said softly from the couch. She'd been staying with me, trying to keep me from losing my mind completely, but I could see the worry in her eyes. She thought I was already gone.
The doorbell rang.
I froze mid-step, my heart slamming against my ribs.
"I'll get it," Mya said, standing up.
"No," I said quickly, moving toward the door. "I got it."
I opened the door and it was a UPS driver, holding a small package. I could see Sosa’s truck pulling into the driveway as well. Bout time his ass got here.
"Delivery for this address," the UPS guy said cheerfully, like this was a normal fucking day.
"I didn't order nothing," I said, staring at the box.
"No return address," he said, checking his tablet. "But it's addressed to this residence. Can you sign here?"
I signed with a shaky hand and took the box. It was light, smaller than a shoebox. The driver walked away and I closed the door, turning the package over in my hands.
"Who's it from?" Mya asked.
"I don't know," I said, my stomach churning. Something about this felt wrong. Real wrong.
I carried it to the kitchen table and grabbed a knife to cut through the tape. My hands were trembling so bad I almost dropped it.
"Yah-Yah, maybe you should wait for Sosa—" Mya started.
But I was already opening the box.
