Bodies

sept.

Milan continued to live apart from Devon and at Daya's house for a good two weeks. It was running smoothly.

What wasn't, was her avoiding Ramses.

Their date was perfect... aside from the bullets raining on their parade. However, he'd yet to tell her he'd broken up with his current girlfriend, Tatiana. Street bullshit aside, what came first was the foundation of the relationship and he couldn't even start fresh with her.

Having already had her fair share of men who didn't think enough of her to do right by her, she wouldn't let anyone, not even a man as fine as Ramses Young shrink her into thinking him courting her was simply enough.

He'd been trying to keep up with her. Texting her every other day, trying to see her, and all that until one day Milan just stopped replying altogether. It wasn't good for her to foster a connection that seemed like a dead end.

A "dead mission" as Ramses would say.

It was a Sunday evening, and Milan usually worked nights on Sundays but today she took off. Daya was out with Diamanté, that same no good ex she was afraid to serve the night of Ramses's shooting.

Deciding to be an extraordinary roommate, she was cooking for the two of them. Nothing special, but Milan could eat smothered chicken and rice any time of her life. The chicken was just coming out of the oven when her phone vibrated with a text message from Daya.

Sliding open her phone and going to their text message thread, she saw it was a voice memo. That was even weirder. Milan paused her music and hit play.

"Yeah, I shot that nigga, Dee. He my homie and all, but he ain't been making the right plays and the bros been talking. If he ain't gon' make the right decisions for BL, I will."

It took a minute for Milan to even process who was talking. It had been awhile since she'd heard Diamanté's voice, but when it did click, you can bet the gravy ladle she was holding clattered to the kitchen floor.

All she could reply to Daya was "WTF" and Daya spent no time replying with a long string of crying emojis.

That confession was serious, but she had no idea what to do with it— or should she do anything at all. Last time she interfered in gang violence, a gang leader showed up at her job and her brother tried to kill her. All hell would break loose in the Blood Lords if Ramses and his crew split.

Hell was already loose if he had people staging a coup already.

So, for right now, Milan chose to mind her damn business.

She picked up the gravy spoon from the ground and proceeded to wash it in the sink before going back to just what she was doing before. Cooking dinner for the night, and nobody was gonna ruin it for her.

But then she got another text message.

This time from an unknown number, which was unusual, but nothing was out of play these days.

"Did you block me or sum?"

She texted back with her infamous, "Who is this?"

"Don't play stupid."

The number replied within seconds. In the next two, "Come outside."

With those two words, she already knew who it was.

Looking down at what she was wearing which was practically nothing, Milan went into Daya's room and grabbed the first pair of sweats she saw and an old black True Religion hoodie. For shoes, she slipped into black Nike slides.