Page 39 of Kissed By the Trillest Thug 2

I already knew who he meant. And he knew who he was now, but I guess he needed confirmation from me. I nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Damn,” Ghost said while he shook his head.

The room fell quiet. Because now there wasn’t any guessing. The man standing at his door was the same man who shot me. Ghost rubbed the back of his neck and then laughed.

It was a short, humorless laugh.

“You are lucky.”

I rolled my eyes.

“Here you go.”

“Nah, I’m serious.”

His expression never changed.

“You lucky he only put one in your shoulder.”

I leaned back against the couch. Because honestly? He wasn’t wrong. I was lost in thought, and then his phone lit up. Ghost looked down, and his jaw tightened.

A second later, he locked the screen and tossed the phone beside him. I noticed it immediately.

“You good?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

The answer came too fast. I stared at him for a second, and he stared right back. Then his phone buzzed again. This time he didn’t even look at it. A quiet laugh escaped me.

“Whatever it is, it must be serious.”

Ghost shook his head.

“It ain’t nothing.”

I leaned back against the couch.

“Mhm.”

He rolled his eyes, and the conversation moved on. But every few minutes, that phone lit up again. And every time it did, I noticed. Because for somebody claiming it wasn’t nothing…

It sure seemed like something.

GHOST

Trigga and I had some meaningless conversation before he got the fuck up out of here. After he left, I found myself sitting in the same spot for nearly twenty minutes. The television was still on, but I wasn’t paying attention to anything that was happening on the screen. My mind kept drifting back to the conversation we had just finished having. First, Maliah’s parents showing up at my apartment. The whole situation felt messy. Messier than it needed to be.

My phone buzzed again beside me, but I ignored it. A few seconds later it buzzed again.

This time I picked it up. Ryan’s name was at the top of the screen. I frowned before opening the message.

Buena Vista Park. Basketball courts. 11 p.m

Underneath that was another message.

We need to talk.