Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Arriving at Von's place later that same night, the dim glow of streetlights stretched long shadows across the quiet pavement, casting an eerie, almost ghostly atmosphere over the neighborhood. The air was thick with tension, a lingering reminder of the chaos that had unfolded earlier.
In Durk's car, the mood mirrored the dull scene outside. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white against the dark leather. And beside him, India sat in silence, scrolling through her phone, the faint light reflecting off her face. Just moments earlier, they had been trailing behind Von's car, their headlights illuminating the road ahead. The only sounds were the engine's purr and the occasional sigh from India.
The atmosphere was also equally heavy In Dayvon's vehicle as he parked outside his home, taking a final glance at his reflection in the rearview mirror. His face bore minimal signs of the fight with Meech, but his knuckles told a different story—bruised and bleeding, proof of the force of his punches.
"I'll be right back, bae. You good staying here by yourself?" Durk broke the silence, checking on his girlfriend as he and Von stepped out of their cars simultaneously.
"Yeah, I'm okay. I'm tired anyway" India replied softly, leaning back against the seat and closing her eyes briefly. She felt a bit disappointed that the night had been spoiled—they had left early and missed the announcement of the ugly Christmas sweater contest winner. But this was nothing new; growing up with Durk and Dayvon meant frequent conflicts, especially involving Von. Now, she just wanted to go home, take a bath, and fall asleep with her man.
"Alright" Durk said, his voice low and calm. He cast one more glance at India before joining Von, who was already heading towards the house. They ascended the porch steps, each footfall echoing slightly under a sky that showed no signs of snow.
"You think this leads to buried treasure, Arnold?" Gerald asked eagerly, his eyes widening as he leaned closer to the TV screen where an episode of "Hey Arnold!" was playing. Arnold scratched his head thoughtfully, his animated character studying the old map in his hands.
The house was quiet except for the soft murmur from the TV, its glow casting a gentle light across the living room. Trinity was lounging on the couch, her feet tucked beneath her as she scrolled through her phone—not even watching the television. The sound of the door opening though, she looked up, her expression shifting from relaxed to concerned upon seeing Von and Durk enter.
"What happened?" She instantly exclaimed, jumping up and rushing to his side. Her hands instinctively reached out to touch his slightly bruised face, her eyes scanning his with worry etched on her features. "Baby, what happened? Are you okay?"
"I'm good mama. Just ran into some bullshit" He replied calmly with a slight chuckle, but the tension in his body betrayed his true feelings as he gently grabbed her hands.
Durk, trailing behind, shook his head, his expression somewhat twisted in shock. "Some bullshit is an understatement. Yo, you almost killed that nigga" He then said sternly, emphasizing the seriousness of the situation.
