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A/N: This chap is super short. But it's important. Sorry it's so short lol. Andd OMG like 8k reads?? Whaaaat??? I freaking love y'all 😭💜.

Devonte

"Bae," Yazmine called, rousing me from my sleep. She really liked waking a nigga up. I grudgingly opened my eyes, blinking at the amount of sunlight coming in my room.

"What's up?"

"It's almost 2 pm, Devonte you was knocked." Yazmine rose from where she had been sitting on the end of the bed.

Damn. I sat up. When I focused on Yaz, I realized she was fully dressed, like she was about to go somewhere. She had on this Adidas tracksuit, the classic black and white, and her braids were in two ponytails. I licked my lips. "You look good, girl. Come here."

"Nah, so you can kiss me with your morning breath? I'm good, Mr. Taylor," she said smirking.

"Quit playing, and come here." She gave me a half smile and leaned over the bed, and gave me a peck. No tongue, or nothing. This shit was unfair. It was like I couldn't get enough of her ass.

"That was a weak ass kiss, but whatever. Where you going?"

"We need food, so I'm a do a grocery store run, and I also need to get some supplies. You can come with me if you want."

"Nah, I hate shopping. You need money or anything?"

She folded her arms. "You hate shopping? What's that supposed to mean?"

"What I said."

"Well I guess you hate eating too, shit." She snatched up her bag and walked out.

Feisty. The girl literally would go from 0-100 and for no reason too. Everybody didn't like shopping. I especially ain't like grocery shopping, shit was stressful. Back at home, my Aunt did that shit. Now, me and Trey were responsible for buying food and we sucked at it. That's why the fridge was almost always empty. Trey could live off of Powerade and pussy, and I used to be at Yaz's spot a lot, eating her food. Plus, we ate out. Which didn't necessarily equal unhealthy. Both of us were athletes, and we knew how to eat, so we ate right. Just ain't shop right.

I did that shit where you sitting up in your bed and trying to decide if you actually want to get out of it or not. I sat on the edge of the bed for like ten minutes before I finally got up.

All Yaz's drama and my own shit had me all off balance. I couldn't even remember the last time I talked to Bre. I checked my phone. She had called numerous times during the week, but last night she blew my phone the fuck up.

I decided to shower and call her back. I walked into my bathroom. Yaz had only been here a few days and already she was taking my shit over. Near the sink were all her hair creams, face scrubs, and perfumes. Then there was her body wash, body butters, and body lotions, plus her shampoos and conditioners. I forgot how much shit females had.

I showered and put on some basketball shorts and a t-shirt and went in the kitchen. Munching on a bagel, I dialed Bre. It rung out and went to voicemail. Twice.

Bre wasn't answering her phone which made my blood run cold. Last time she wouldn't answer...I couldn't let my mind go there.

"Yo, Trey let me borrow your car fam."

"Aight son. Where you going tho?" Trey asked from where he sat in the couch playing Fortnite.

"Nowhere." I scooped up his keys that he had abandoned on the living room table.

"Shit. All your top secret missions involve Bre's ass. I don't even wanna know, matter of fact. That bitch crazy."

I left, slamming the door as my response to his comment. As I drove, I kept trying to call Bre. Straight to voicemail.

I found myself speeding a little through the Indianapolis streets, and I tried to calm down. I was always expecting the worse, but maybe I was being paranoid. Still, I made it to her house in record time, and I didn't manage to relax.

By the time I pulled up to her house, I was sweating. Heavenly's car was gone and all the lights were off. I let myself in. "Bre?" I yelled, my voice echoing in the house. No answer.

I ran to the bedroom, but she wasn't in the bed. I looked around, and saw a puddle of water leaking from under the bathroom door. The bathroom door was closed, so I tried the handle. It opened and I went in, then I wished I hadn't. The shower curtain was pushed back, giving me a clear view of Bre in the tub, the tub that was overflowing with water. Her head was tipped back, exposing her neck and the scars that encircled it. Like cobwebs, they traced down and disappeared under her tank top.

I rushed forward, gathering her in my arms. That's when I noticed that her wrists were sticky with blood. Shit! I fumbled in my pocket for my phone.

"9-1-1, what's your emergency?"

"I need help, right fucking now, she tried to kill herself, again, I can't do this shit anymore, gotdamn!"

"Sir, I need you to calm down. We are sending help right now. What's the address, are you at a residence?"

I gave her the address, and waited for the sound of sirens, praying to God she didn't die in my arms.

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