Page 30 of Kissed By the Trillest Thug 2

“What about Maliah?”

That got my attention immediately. I looked between the two of them.

“Maliah?” I questioned.

The woman nodded quickly.

“We can’t find her.”

For a second, I just stared. Then pieces started falling into place, not all of them but enough for me to start putting something together. I already knew Tahari got shot. I already knew Maliah’s father was the one who pulled the trigger. I didn’t know what either of her parents looked like. Now I have a pretty good idea. My eyes landed on the man.

“You her father?” I questioned.

“Yeah.”

The answer was immediate, and he said the shit with no hesitation. I nodded slowly. That explained a lot. They were both filled with tension. And it was evident that he had an attitude. He had that killer look in his eyes. I folded my arms across my chest.

“And y’all think Maliah is here?”

“We think she might’ve gone looking for Tahari,” the woman said.

“She ain’t here,” I said as I shook my head.

The man looked past me anyway, like he expected her to magically appear from somewhere inside the apartment. This wasn’t a Lil’ Baby video. She wasn’t about to pop out from behind a hidden door or some shit. That annoyed me more than it should have. Simply because I hated repeating myself, and more than that, I hated when a muthafucka thought that I was lying about some shit, especially when I wasn’t.

“I already told you,” my voice sharpened slightly as I pulled the front door a little closed so that I was the only thing in the doorway, “I ain’t seen her.”

The woman looked frustrated while the man looked unconvinced.

Neither one of those things had anything to do with me. And what they were not about to do was take any frustration out on me over a girl that wasn’t even my bitch. For a moment, nobody said anything. Then I asked the question that had been sitting in my head since I opened the door.

“How y’all get my address?”

The man finally looked directly at me.

“The same way everybody finds something they are looking for,” his tone was calm,

“I asked around, and when I start asking questions… I get answers.”

A small smirk almost pulled at my mouth.Yeah, he’s definitely a street nigga,I thought. I could hear it in the answer. He had an accent too; if I had to take a guess, I would say they were from somewhere up north, maybe New York.

The woman stepped forward again.

“If you know anything…”

“I don’t,” I cut her off.

Not because I was being rude but because I was telling the truth.

“I ain’t seen Maliah,” I said with a softer tone.

The concern on her face relaxed something in me because regardless of how I felt about the situation, I could tell she was genuinely worried. She was simply a mother looking for her child, and if my mother went knocking on doors looking for me, I would hope that the person on the other end would have some patience and grace with her. My eyes drifted back to the man, though, because he was looking for someone to put down. Hewas the enforcer, the shooter, the same one who had put a bullet in Tahari’s arm.

He didn’t know I knew. And I wasn’t interested in having that conversation right now.

Not standing in a doorway. Not with his wife looking like she was one bad sentence away from crying. Plus, I didn’t know what all he shared with his lady. A lot of street niggas keep it just there and then go home and be somebody totally different. After a few more minutes of getting nowhere, the woman finally let out a defeated sigh.

“Come on, Malik.”