TOMMIE (COMPLETED)

TWENTY-ONE

Tommie drove home from Roscoe's with her head in a fog. Tears welled up in her eyes, but they refused to fall. She couldn't believe Scrapp had moved on. He was the only good thing in her life, and now that he was gone, Stevie was the only person she had left.

She had been calling Tia for weeks, but her phone was disconnected. Stevie's only explanation was that she wasn't over Ace' death, so she moved back to Texas with her grandma Tanya.

This wasn't like Tia, but Tommie respected the fact that she needed space to deal with her issues. Tommie just wished she was there to help her deal with hers.

After an hour of driving around Atlanta, Tommie finally made it home. She reluctantly walked up to the concrete stairs to her apartment. With each step, she was closer to the reason why she and Scrapp were no longer together.

As she put the key into the lock to open the door to her entrapment, the air in the apartment suffocated her. Before she made it over the threshold, she tripped over a stack of her luggage. She unzipped her Louis Vuitton bag set and saw her clothes neatly folded inside.

Everything in the apartment looked normal and in its place, so she was confused. She grabbed her phone from inside of her purse and dialed Stevie's  number.

"What's up, baby?" he asked answering on the first ring.

"Why the fuck is my shit packed by the front door?"

"Because we're leaving."

"Leaving where?" she snapped.

"Just meet me at the airport in an hour, Tommie."

Before she could question him any further, Stevie hung up, so she grabbed her three-piece set and headed for the door.

$$$$$

Stevie drove around the North with SAS in the passenger seat. He knew SAS was spending more and more time with Scrapp. Some would have even said that Scrapp had taken SAS under his wing, and Stevie hated that.

He was hungry for everybody's loyalty, but SAS's concern was about getting money.

He knew Scrapp didn't fuck with Stevie or any of his niggas anymore, but to SAS business was business, and Scrapp respected his hustle. He saw the potential SAS had. He saw more in him then a lot of other people did, and he promised he would make SAS into more than just a hood nigga.

Stevie and SAS whipped through the streets checking on different dope spots. Stevie's position had been downgraded, so he found himself doing the work of a runner, but in his mind, he was still on top.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he became king. After they got done with their runs, SAS dropped Stevie off at the airport.

"Hit me if you need me, bruh," Stevie said pulling his bags from the trunk.

"Yep, when you coming back?"

"In like two weeks. You should be cool though. Keep the coupe."

"Alright, hit me when you get back. I'll come drop it off."

"Naw, I mean keep it, bruh. It's yours. It's time for you to start living and looking like a real boy out here. Splurge a little, my nigga."