Page 32 of Addicted

I dropped my backpack by the door and walked down the hallway, my stomach twisting into knots.

When I got to her room, the door was wide open. Two men I ain’t recognize were inside, packing up her stuff. They were pulling clothes out of her closet, folding them into boxes. Her shoes, her purses, her jewelry. Everything.

“Yo, what the fuck y’all doing?” I said, stepping into the room.

One of the men was a tall, dark-skinned dude, and he looked up at me with cold eyes.

“Handling business,” he said, his voice flat.

“That’s my sister’s shit,” I said, my voice rising. “Why y’all packing it up? Where y’all taking it?”

The other man, shorter and stockier, didn’t even look at me. Just kept folding Indie’s clothes like I wasn’t even there.

“Where’s my sister?” I demanded, stepping closer. “What the fuck did Stone do to her?”

The tall one straightened up and turned to face me fully. He was at least six-three, built like a linebacker, and the look he gave me made my blood run cold.

“You need to back up, lil’ nigga,” he said. “And mind your business.”

“This is my business!” I shot back, even though my hands were shaking. “That’s my sister! Where is she?!”

He took a step towards me, and I instinctively took a step back.

“Your sister is fine,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay the fuck out of it. Stone got this handled.”

“Handled?” I repeated, my voice cracking. “What the fuck does that mean?”

The shorter one finally looked up, his expression bored.

“It means shut the fuck up and let us do our job,” he said. “If anyone asks where your sister is, you tell them she went out of town. That’s it. That’s all you say.”

“Out of town?” I said, my voice rising again. “Man, that’s bullshit! Where—”

The tall one stepped even closer, getting right in my face.

“You got a problem with that?” he asked, his voice deadly calm.

I stared up at him, my heart hammering in my chest. I wanted to swing on him. Wanted to fight back. Wanted to do something. But I couldn’t. Because I knew if I did, I’d end up dead. And then Indie would be alone.

So, I swallowed my pride, clenched my fists at my sides, and stepped back.

“Nah,” I muttered. “No problem.”

The tall one smirked. “Good. Now get the fuck out.”

I turned and walked out of Indie’s room, my whole body trembling with rage and helplessness.

I went to my own room, slammed the door, and sat on the edge of my bed with my head in my hands. I could hear them moving around in Indie’s room for another hour, packing up her life like she was never coming back.

When they finally left, the condo felt emptier than it ever had before.

***

I shook the memory away as I reached the bus stop and sat down on the bench.

The Escalade was still parked across the street, watching. Always watching.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through it, trying to look like I wasn’t bothered. But my mind was racing.