“Damn, girl, it don’t look like you gonna make it past this, huh? I’ll make sure to remind Amir how much you loved him and all that bullshit. Other than that… I will see you at your funeral, ho.”
I tucked my Glock back into my pants and walked outta the crooked front door, hopped in my whip, and pulled off, doing over a hundred on the interstate to make it to the address Jada gave Gio.
What should have taken me over an hour to get to the country took about forty-five minutes.
When I pulled up to the motel, I saw some crackheads in front.
“Aye,” I said, rollin’ my window down with a few dollars in my hand. They walked over to my car, and I showed them two pictures. “Have you seen a nigga that looked like him, or her?”
They stared at the picture for a few seconds, then one of them pointed around to the side.
“I saw her the other day. She was yelling for help and something about love before she was pulled inside.”
Hearing that made my heart drop.
“What room was it?”
“Upstairs, room 305.”
I handed them the money and the lil’ bit of smoke I had on me, and I drove around the building until I saw room 305. I parked right in front of the steps, hopped outta my car, and ran up the steps, banging on the door, yelling Islah’s name.
Nobody answered.
I looked around, then kicked the door in.
The room was a mess: bags, medical shit, liquor bottles all around. I knew them niggas were there. I then looked through to another room and ran over to it.
They had two rooms, and I could tell that Islah was in the second. There was a dresser in front of the door leading outside, and her favorite body wash was in the bathroom.
I sat on the edge of the bed and cuffed my face. I just knew I was gonna bust in that room and get my girl back, but instead, I was left with her scent.
I was ready to walk out when a Mexican lady with towels walked in, and I scared her.
“How long the people in here been gone?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“I don’t know, sir, 305 and 306 were booked over and over again. I was just seeing if they needed towels. They don’t ask for any.”
I nodded, tossed her some money to not speak on the door, and I walked out.
On my drive home, I called Keith. That nigga must keep his phone in his hand when I’m on other shit cause he answered after the first ring.
“You good?”
“I’m always good, brah, you know that.”
“You talk to Jada?”
“I did. I wish her the best on her trip.”
He already knew what that meant.
“And what about the drop on Islah?”
“I checked her phone, found the hotel. They are not there. Housekeeping can’t tell me how long they have been gone.”
“Damn, Boss… What is the next move?”
