❝𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄❞

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

Devon

The car hummed, the jerky vibration doing nothing to calm my nerves. I kept glancing at Travis, till it became a habit.

Over and over again my mind kept running back to earlier, replaying like a damn broken record in my mind. I contemplated bringing it up; I kept staring at him like he could magically read my mind and figure out what am thinkin', I mean, he damn well can try. Did he mean anything by it? His words, that touch...

I bit my lip, frustrated.

He's so oblivious, isn't he? Who says shit like that, then gropes someone's thigh!? Well, he didn't grope me, but the touch has got to mean something right? 

And...after last night, the question lingered dangerously on my tongue.

I turned to the window, pretending I hadn't heard him. "This where I stay at," he muttered, almost offhand. But I couldn't help it—I side-eyed the rundown complex as we drove past. Black mold crawled up the sides, windows clouded with grime, and the whole place looked as if it was hanging on by a thread. I cringed, sheesh, I figured dirty money could have at least gotten a brother a nice apartment downtown.

"Cool," I muttered filling the silence.

We pulled up outside a small, one-story house, the driveway packed with cars. A few people lingered near the entrance, talking in Morse code. My stomach tightened. This must be the meeting, huh? I unclipped my seatbelt, steadying my breath despite feeling anxiety creeping into me. I had no idea what I was walking into.

Travis glanced at me, unbuckling his seatbelt, he grinned cooly. "Chill, aight? I know you ain't used to—" he gestured towards the house, "All this..."

I scoffed, "I'll be fine," I stepped out of the car. The husky chuckle I heard made me feel anything but 'fine'

I squeezed the fabric of my jersey, trying to reassure myself. It's just a meeting. In and out, so quit being such a bitch.. hopefully, nobody recognizes me.

Travis' arm slithered around my shoulders, I tensed under his touch glancing at him through narrowed eyes. He said nothing as he guided me towards the door as if I needed any help walking. Entering, a whiplash of weed and Henny hit my nose making me cough the college of sweat and cheap cologne, I swallowed my tongue gaging at the taste. I huddled closer under Travis' arms, I sniffed, and—sweet, he smelt sweet. I had to resist the urge to shuffle even closer.

It wasn't as crowded as I expected, shit, maybe at least ten people chatting and wandering about. Still, it felt suffocating not knowing any of these folks though they seemed chill, almost friendly.

Travis kept me under his guide, we stopped in the kitchen, an open concept that looked into the living room.

As soon as we came in, Darius spotted us and strolled over a smirk tugging at his lips. "Strikes, here I thought you weren't gonna show up, kid,"

"Wasn't finna miss this for nothin', my boy King got released and I ain't show?" Travis laughed, "Where's he at? Man owes me five years of birthday money,"

I stood awkwardly between them as they conversed, my eyes darted around the room. Wasn't this supposed to be a meeting? Looking back to back it seemed more like a celebration, figured for whoever this 'King' dude was. This felt so out of character for a group like this, I folded my lips, shifting my feet. Suddenly, I felt the air darken, I yelped quietly. I jerked back, my heart thudding hard in my stomach, bumping into Travis' chest. My eyes caught a wall of a man, his shadow swallowed me. His eyes bored into me, and for a second, I thought I did somethin' wrong just simply breathing.