AT WHAT COST?

XV (II) - SHOUTOUT TO MY NIGGAS WITH ESCAPE PLANS

How strange.

"Hello gentlemen, how's the shipment? Are we ready to go?" The looks the three exchange obviously led me to believe something was indeed not okay with the shipment and my already short fuse was lit on fire.

What I was about to hear was infinitely worse.

"Don't tell me one y'all niggas fucked this shit up, we're on a tight timeline her-"

"Vessa stopped by." Vince wouldn't look me in the eye. He was still mad.

"Oh, for real, where is she at?" I wasn't expecting to hear she had come by. My hand found itself brushing over my head to make sure I looked presentable. Nothing could hide the fade discolouration of the black eye my dearest brother gave me though.

She had taken some unannounced time off after the argument we had and I didn't push her. She needed space. I was ready to work things out, but she obviously had a lot more to sort through than I did.

I had put her though way more.

"She's gone bro. She asked that I make sure you get this." Vin gestured to the trunk. That's when my stomach started sinking, as if it's contents were lead.

"What the fuck is it? A bomb?" I knew it wasn't but she had been very mad at me the last time I saw her.

"I don't know, she wouldn't say. She said we'd have to open it to find out and I'm not the intended recipient so I'll be finding out when you are." Now his eyes were piercing mine. He had a sadness in them. What did all of this mean? What wasn't he telling me?

My heart rate started picking up, getting ready for me to exert a vast amount of energy at a moments notice. Unbeknownst to me, several blood vessels in my face and neck had begun to play the beat, making my apprehension visible to my audience.

All of these physiological reaction were rooted the curse of knowing.

Because realistically, I knew what it was.

It could only be one thing. It was in their postures. The evasive looks. The 50 pairs of eyes I could feel on my entire body. Cases like this were only used to transport one of two things, and I doubt she came all the way out here to deliver my laundry.

Yet, I stood there frozen.

All of a sudden, it would been better if it was a bomb. A big one with shrapnel and everything. That way I wouldn't have had to live through my death. I would have just ceased to exist.

I looked from the trunk that determined the rest of my life back up to the men in front of me. They looked so forlorn. It hadn't really clicked for them how this was going to affect me. Until that very moment.

Fuck.

"Open it, bro. Waiting is not gonna change its contents." Wise words from a man who's life wasn't about to go up in flames.

I followed his instruction anyway.

First, I reached my hand out to undo the latch that held the luggage piece closed. A pause of an undefined amount of time ensued and I finally decided to bite the bullet.