The ride back to West Orange felt like forever. What was supposed to be a two-hour drive dragged under the weight of silence and nervous glances. Hustle drove with his jaw clenched tight, eyes flicking to the mirrors every few minutes. Reef sat in the passenger seat, his leg bouncing, while LK leaned back in the seat behind him, hand resting casually but purposefully on the grip of his gun.
In the backseat, Sajadaa and Danny sat close together, both quiet but restless. The air between them was thick with unspoken fear. Danny tried to lean her head back, but Sajadaa's steady foot tapping on the floorboard kept her on edge. Every now and then Hustle spoke, laying out the plan in a low voice.
"We ain't goin' back to regular life like nothin' happened," Hustle said finally, breaking the silence. "We get home, y'all pack up. Clothes only, no extras. We headin' to Philly after. Y'all gonna be good, I promise. I just need everybody movin' smart. No questions, no hesitation. Understand?"
The girls nodded. Danny whispered a soft "okay," while Sajadaa just stared out the window, her reflection in the glass sharper than her tone.
When they finally pulled up to Hustle and Sajadaa's mini-mansion in West Orange, the sight of it hit like a punch. The front door hung slightly ajar. A lamp was knocked over inside the foyer. Curtains shifted where the windows had been forced open.
"Shit," Reef muttered, already reaching for his weapon.
"Stay here," Hustle ordered, his voice low but firm. He, Reef, and LK moved quickly, slipping out of the car and into the house.
But the girls? They weren't built to wait.
Danny tugged on Sajadaa's arm. "We should stay put."
Sajadaa shook her off. "Hell no. If something's wrong, I'm not sittin' out here like a sitting duck."
Within seconds, the two were tiptoeing into the house behind them.
The boys had cleared most of the downstairs. Furniture overturned, drawers yanked out. The house smelled faintly of sweat and stale cologne. "Looks like they ransacked it," Reef said, glancing around. He thought he checked every corner. He didn't.
Upstairs, Sajadaa was already in her room, pulling out bags. "Danny, grab whatever. What's mine is yours. Just hurry."
Danny went to the closet, flinging the door open—only for a man to lunge out, grabbing her from behind, pressing cold steel against her head.
"Back the fuck up," he barked, eyes wild. "Or I'll blow her brains out."
Time slowed. Sajadaa's eyes narrowed, her hands raised slightly. "Okay, okay. Relax." Her fingers slid along the edge of the nightstand. Her heart pounded, but her face showed nothing. With a swift motion, she pulled the gun stashed underneath and fired.
The man collapsed with a scream, clutching his bleeding leg. Danny ripped the gun from his hands and backed up, shaking but clutching it tightly.
The commotion brought Hustle, Reef, and LK thundering up the stairs. They froze when they saw Sajadaa, gun still in hand, smoke curling from the barrel.
Hustle's eyes widened. "Jadaa... it's okay. Gimme the gun." His voice softened, like he was talking to a child on the edge.
Reef went to Danny, easing the weapon out of her trembling grip. LK, ever cold, pressed his boot to the man's wound. "Shut up before I shut you up."
But Sajadaa wasn't finished.
She brushed past Hustle, heading straight for the kitchen. Moments later she returned, a knife glinting in her hand. Without hesitation, she strode into the room where LK had dragged the man.
YOU ARE READING
NOBODY
RomanceA Young Girl Named Sajada Smith Has A Life Of Secrets. Nobody really knows her or her hardships. Follow her as she goes from a nobody to a boss.
