The Plug's Daughter

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The Plug's Daughter
Chapter 5: Pull-Up Problems
Houston, Texas

After me and Zori left Queen Vee's Nails, we were sitting in my car, flexin' our new sets for the ig highlights. Zori hit her camera angles like she was about to go viral, her chrome french tip stiletto nails catching every ray of sunlight.

"Chile, these nails are about to have the niggas in my DMs like, 'Who your tech?'" Zori said, tilting her hand for the third time.

"Girl, they gon' be in there like, 'You single?' Don't even play," I said, holding up my own set—a classic square medium length white french tip.

"Period. They gon' think I got an OnlyFans with these. And maybe I should, 'cause rent is rentin', and my account is giving insufficient funds," she said, laughing.

The vibe was chill until my phone buzzed in the cupholder for the fifth time. I groaned.

"Who is it this time?" Zori asked, sipping her strawberry Calypso.

"Keisha," I said, opening the message. She'd sent: "For real, Alazhá, pull up. I got tea you NEED to hear."

"Not her sending you a 'pull up' text like she at a kickback," Zori said, squinting over my shoulder.

I shook my head. "She stay in my business. Always talkin' 'bout she got some big news, and it's always trash. Like, girl, be serious."

"She the type to send you 'we need to talk' and then hit you with some mess like, 'My cousin broke up with his girl, so he single now,'" Zori said, rolling her eyes.

"And then act like she just solved world hunger," I added. We both cracked up, but the phone buzzed again.

"She pressed," Zori said, tossing her drink in the back. "You gon' go or nah?"

"I mean... I kinda wanna see what she got to say," I admitted, even though I knew better. "But if this turns into some goofy mess, I'm blocking her for life."

"Low-key, you love the drama," Zori teased, grinning.

"Okay, but who don't?" I said, starting the car. "Let's see what she want. If she wastes my time, I'm posting that throwback pic of her looking like a Dollar Tree City Girl. Don't play."

The address Keisha sent was up on the north side, and I already felt like this was about to be a setup. Zori had her AirPods in, scrolling TikTok, while I focused on not catching a pothole on these backstreets.

When we pulled up to the spot—a busted-up apartment complex with two streetlights actually working—Zori immediately said, "Yeah, no. This is giving crime documentary realness."

"Facts," I said, putting the car in park. "She got me out here like this is an episode of First 48."

I shot Keisha a text: "I'm here. Where you at?"

Seconds later, she popped out from a stairwell, looking rough. I'm talking wig sliding, lashes halfway gone, and wearing slides with no socks like we wasn't in public.

"She look like she fought a tornado and lost," Zori muttered, leaning back in her seat. "You better not leave me out here too long, 'cause I don't trust this."

"Same," I said, grabbing my bag. "Stay in the car. If it's some BS, I'm leaving her right here. Don't play with me."

I stepped out, the streetlights flickering like we were in a horror movie. Keisha waved me over, glancing around like she was about to get jumped.

"Alazhá, I'm so glad you came," she said, rushing up to me. Her breath was coming quick, like she'd been running.

"What's up? And why you lookin' like that?" I asked, crossing my arms.

She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I can't talk out here. Just... come inside. It's serious."

"Serious like what?" I asked, not moving a muscle.

"Serious like... life or death," she said, her eyes darting around.

At that point, every alarm bell in my head was going off. I turned back toward the car, where Zori was watching through the windshield with her phone up, probably recording me for backup.

"Keisha, I'm not stepping inside anywhere until you tell me what's up," I said. "I don't have time for the dramatics."

She looked over her shoulder and lowered her voice even more. "Alazhá, it's about your daddy. Somebody's been talkin', and you're in danger."

I froze, my heart dropping into my stomach. "What you mean 'talkin'?' Talking to who?"

She grabbed my arm. "Just come inside. I'll explain everything."

Back in the car, Zori was narrating the whole thing to her TikTok. "Y'all, my girl Alazhá is out here in the trenches, dealing with messy Keisha again. If we don't make it out alive, just know we went down real ones."