ᴍᴏᴛɪᴇsʜᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀᴘᴋɪɴɢ (#1 ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟʟs ᴛʀɪʟᴏɢʏ)✓

43: Tiesha And The Chaos

Tiesha’s hands moved faster than thought. She snatched the gun from Koko, dismantling it with practiced speed.

The metallic pieces clinked faintly as she worked, tension knotting the air.

Without hesitation, she shoved the bullets into her bra, the cool metal pressing against her skin.

“Koko,” she hissed, tossing her friend a piece of the weapon, “hide this—in your bra and your…” her gaze flicked downward, “…pussy. Now.”

Koko’s eyes widened but she obeyed.

The door banged open and Lowe strode in, sharp-eyed and already barking orders.
“Get that chair out of here. Now.”

His men moved fast, dragging the evidence away before the air could settle.

It barely had.

The wail of police sirens bled into the room. Within moments, two officers stepped inside, their presence dragging the temperature down another degree.

Koko sat nestled in Lowe’s arms, while Tiesha took the spot beside them. Across the room, the twins lounged on the couch, all of them feigning the easy nonchalance of people watching TV.

The first officer, pale-skinned with a stiff jaw, surveyed the room. “We’ve been informed of a disturbance in the neighborhood,” he said. “So… who fired the gun?”

Tiesha’s voice came out soft, measured. “It was the movie.”

The officer’s mouth twisted. “One thing about you Black folks—you claim to be clean, yet you’re not.”

Lowe’s head snapped up. “And how’s that different from what white folks do?” His tone was flat, but the weight behind it was enough to make the air thick.

The officer’s gaze hardened, and in one motion, he raised his gun—pointing it straight at Lowe’s head.

Koko and Tiesha were on their feet instantly.

“Why do you have a gun on you?” the white man demanded.

“That doesn’t give you the right to aim it at his head,” Koko shot back, voice sharp with fury.

“Shut up, miss, and let me do my job.”

Another officer entered, taking in the scene. His eyes landed on his partner. “Stand down, Jim. He’s not using the gun. Don’t shoot.”

Jim didn’t lower his weapon immediately. Lowe just stood there, unmoving, a deep frown carved into his face.

“I have a license,” Lowe said at last. “That’s just how rich I am. Do ya even know who I am?”

“I don’t care who you are.”

“Kona-Reys,” Heaven interjected suddenly.

Koko’s glare could have cut glass.

The name landed like a slap. The officer’s eyes widened, and slowly, he lowered his gun.

Tiesha’s jaw tightened. “So if it had been a helpless person, you’d have shot him?”

The man’s face twitched. “Sorry about this. Someone called to report a disturbance in the neighborhood.”