Page 62 of Kissed By the Trillest Thug 2

Ghost shut the door behind me.

“You hungry?”

“Nah, I had something before I left work. Mr. Browne had ordered us all some wings for lunch today.”

“There you go again,” he shook his head and fixed his face with disgust, “talking about work.”

“You are acting like I committed a crime or something,” I said with a laugh.

“Nah.” he walked toward the couch and then plopped down, “I’m just trying to get used to hearing that shit come out your mouth.”

I took a seat across from him. There was a slight awkward silence. Ghost grabbed the remote and muted the television before tossing it onto the cushion beside him.

“So…”

I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my knees.

“What’s really going on?”

The smirk he’d been wearing disappeared, just like that. His eyes drifted toward the floor. Something was bothering him.

“I ain’t even gone hold you…”

He rubbed both hands together before looking back up at me.

“I think I’m in some shit.”

The room fell quiet. I didn’t interrupt him. I just sat back and listened because whatever was weighing on Ghost, it was heavy enough for him to finally ask for help.

He leaned back against the couch and let out a slow breath.

“You remember Bashar?”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“He been dead a little minute now.”

“I know.”

His shooting was all over the hood when it first happened. Especially since it happened right in his own house. He rubbed both hands over his face before looking back at me.

“Reemo is his right-hand man, and he’s been on my ass lately.”

I frowned.

“What the fuck does he want with you?”

“He is looking for answers.”

“About what?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“About Bashar.”

He looked down at the floor for a second before continuing.

“I was the last person to see him alive,” he admitted.

That caught me off guard.