Page 15

He kept everything tight. Pre-rolls lined up neatly. The glass jars labeled with his own branded stickers, and QR codes that led customers back to Plugged In .

His hustle wasn’t corner boy shit. It was a curated experience… or - Crafted. Everything from the strain names to the packaging was branded like he had a storefront in Melrose…except he didn’t.

He had a trap laptop, a second phone, and a stash spot under the loose floorboard by the closet just in case.

And a dope ass app created by a hood ass black boy.

One wrong traffic stop and they’d have him in the backseat faster than he could say lawyer. The only thing keeping him from becoming another case number was a praying Granny who still left oil stains on the doorframes every first Sunday.

Malik paused, stretching his back muscle. He clicked over to Instagram for a break. He told himself he was just gon’ check the notifications on the Plugged In page, but he ended up on Aku’s story…again.

Her ass was everywhere tonight…literally.

The camera panned to her throwing it back on some neon-lit stage in a packed-ass club. Hair swinging, chain swinging, red bottoms showing as she grinded the air like she invented that shit.

Her face glowed with sweat, and the joy in it made him pause.

Aku always seemed so carefree and down with whatever, but the more he got to know her, Malik wasn’t so sure money could buy her happiness after all.

It was probably why she found herself smitten with a nothing ass Crescent Park nigga, when she should’ve been with someone like Zaire.

Still hood but talented enough to make it out with millions in his account.

Malik had none of that. That insecurity lingered in his brain every time Aku galloped across his memory.

Malik studied the videos over and over again, loving the way her handful of ass moved like water. Then he caught something.

Devin…leaning on the edge of the VIP couch behind her. Half-shadowed, but clear enough if you knew what to look for.

Malik’s stomach turned, but he kept watching. Clicked the next story, and the next.

The comments under the re-shared clips made it even worse.

“Omggg is that Devin?? Please get back together y’all too fire.”

“Her and Dev been meant to be. Period.”

He knew better than to let strangers on the internet tell him anything about anyone’s life, but their words stung a little. Malik wasn’t sure why, ’cause he would never be good enough for an Aku. He was just basking in their friendship since that was all he could offer her.

Two taps at his room door, pulled his face from the phone. Only one man knocked like that.

“Yo.”

The door creaked open and his Pops peeked in, still in his security uniform—navy pants, jacket half-zipped, badge clipped to his chest like he was still policing the block.

“You up?” he asked, stepping in with a brown paper bag that had grease stains on the side.

“Yeah...working.”

His Pops sat the bag on his desk. “Got extra wings from the night shift. - Lemon pepper. They had mild too, but I know you be acting soft when it comes to spice.”

Malik smirked. “Man, whatever.”

His Pops dropped down in the chair near the window, kicked his boots off and leaned back like he owned the night.

“How’s the coding coming?”

“Good,” Malik mumbled, not looking up. “I’m working on a new feature - private rooms. Kinda like a secure chat.”

His Pops nodded like he understood every word. He didn’t. But he listened because it mattered. Meeting his son where he was, was important to let his black son know, he was loved and understood even if the world told him otherwise.

“You gon’ make something outta all this.” Anthony nodded like he could see the future.

Malik finally looked over.

“You think?”

“Boy,” Anthony chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I used to run money in a shoebox ‘cross state lines, ain’t never coded a damn thing. You twenty-four and building an app with a trap on the side. I ain’t saying it’s right, but it’s yours.

And if you play it smart—real smart—you can flip all this into something they can’t take. ”

Malik nodded slowly, soaking it in. His pops never lectured, just laced him with game when the moment was right. He appreciated it, knowing a lot of his homies didn’t have that.

“You got a good heart, son,” Anthony continued. “Just don’t let that ego or no pretty girl make you forget that.”

Malik smirked. “You swear you be knowin’.”

“I can tell…heard y’all up late cupcakin’. I ain’t tweakin’ cause that’s how I got ya mama.”

Malik’s phone lit up, pulling his attention back to the phone in his hand. It was Aku.

He answered quick. “Hello?”

“Malik,” her voice slurred like she’d been sipping straight from the bottle. “Come outside.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I’m at your house.”

He stood up, already sliding into his sneakers. “Dorothy, it’s three-something in the?—”

“I know what time it is. But I ain’t wanna be nowhere else right now. So…I came here.”

His Pops raised a brow from the chair, but didn’t say a word.

“You safe?” Malik asked, grabbing his shirt off the chair.

“I’m outside…in my car…Safe-ish…you gon’ come out or you want me to keep looking pitiful out here?”

He sighed, heart already racing, even though he was trying to play it cool. “I’m coming.”

As he grabbed his keys and headed for the door, his Pops spoke again, voice calm and knowing. “She worth it?”

Malik hesitated, the glint in his eyes from popping a pill. “I don’t know yet...”

Anthony smirked like he’d heard that before. “You gon’ find out tonight.”

Malik opened the door slowly. His eyes scanned the street like always, then locked on her.

Aku was slumped in the driver’s seat of her truck, feet cocked up on the dash, one heel off, head leaned back like she’d been trying to convince herself to leave but couldn’t.

Her lips parted like she’d just cussed somebody out or kissed somebody good.

“You drunk,” he said flatly, leaning against her window.

Aku tilted her head, squinting up at him. “So?”

“You smell like Casamigos and club carpet.”

She burst out laughing, that deep belly one she only did when she was real gone. “Fuck you, Malik.”

“Nah, you tryna do that to me.”

“I am,” Aku confessed, hiccupping.

Malik shook his head then opened the door and helped her find and put on her shoe.

Then he helped her up, steadying her by the waist as she grabbed his shoulders to steady herself, when she wobbled a little in her heels.

She clung to him, face buried in his shirt like she was trying to inhale every part of him.

“You smell good,” she mumbled, eyes closed.

He led her inside with patience, letting her keep an arm around his neck as they moved. Her bag dropped on the floor as soon as they hit the living room. Her shoes came off next. Then her lashes—she yanked them off mid-step like she was shedding layers.

He got her to the couch, easing her down, and she flopped back like she lived there…like she belonged…like it wasn’t her first time in his home.

Aku reached behind her to unclasp her bra under her crop top.

“You always take your bra off in other niggas’ houses?” he asked, eyeing her sideways.

“Only when I feel safe.”

He didn’t say anything to that. Just shook his head again, brushing his hand over his hair.

“You need water.”

“I need you…” she mumbled.

He looked at her—really looked. Her lashes were off, edges slightly sweated out, eyes red but full of something ancient.

Longing…that’s what he saw.

He brought her water and crouched in front of her. “Drink this before you start confessing shit you gon’ regret in the morning.”

She took it, sipped slow. Then whispered, “I don’t regret wanting you.”

His jaw flexed, but he didn’t respond.

“I’m not just drunk,” she went on, voice husky. “I’m tired…tired of wondering if I’m too much or not enough depending on the day…tired of matching energy with niggas who ain’t even plugged in emotionally.”

He flopped down beside her.

“You ever seen something so good, so whole…that it made you question if you could ever have it?” she asked. “That’s what my parents got. My mama still blushes when my daddy walks in the room. He still looks at her like he prayed for her and God over-delivered.”

Malik nodded slowly. “So you know what real love looks like.”

“I do,” she whispered. “And that’s what scares me. Because I’d rather be alone than settle for something that don’t feel like them. ”

He turned toward her, fully…his voice low. “I can tell you now, I ain’t him.”

“But what if you are? What if when I see you, I see my daddy? Brave, loving, a little tattered from a hard life, but what if I see you?”

Malik let her what ifs linger in the air as his chest tightened. Maybe her words hit something in him or maybe the pills were wearing on him heavier than he expected.

“Sounds like a lot of pressure.”

Aku peeked at him through her closed eyes. “Pressure makes diamonds, boy how you know how to create apps and shit but don’t know that?”

He chuckled. “Don’t ever beg a nigga to love you though. You too fly for some weak ass shit like that.”

“I ain’t begging you.” Aku sat up, fire dancing in her eyes.

His hand landed on her thigh. “I know you ain’t begging me ‘cause you wouldn’t have to. I’m just saying... Oz might look fun but it ain’t. The Wizard can’t save you because he don’t even know what to do with something so pure, precious, and fine like you.”

“You the Wizard?”

His lips curled. “Shit, the people think I am…think I’m the golden child because I do my illegal shit with charm. I ain’t shit but the son of a hustler.”

“You’re the fine ass son of a hustler,” she snickered making him do the same.

“You talking out the side of your neck ‘cause you want some dick. That nigga ain’t wanna give it to you?” Malik saw Devin in the cut, read the comments on their relationship…now he had thoughts. Probably some shit he should leave in his head, but like Aku, his mind was warped by substance too.

She shrugged. “That nigga would probably give it to me but I wanted it from you.” Bold - that was the word that described Aku to the letter.

She was bold in her walk and talk. The girls in Crescent were bold too, but their shit didn’t feel like hers. Her mouth game felt lethal—soul driving.

His dick jumped but he couldn’t give it to her like this. He wanted her to be one hundred percent in her right mind and he needed not to be rolling when and if he did it.

“You need to get some sleep. I can take you home and get your car to you later,” he offered.

Her glossy eyes glared into his as her tongue swiped against her plush lips. “Nah, I’m spending the night with my new bestie.”

He laughed. “You wild, Dorothy.”

“I’m just tryna follow the yellow brick road, baby.” She made her index and middle finger walk up his thigh with lust in her eyes. “Show me your room.” She stumbled to her feet, tugging him along with her.

Malik could feel the sexual tension building between them.

It had always been there, but phone conversations and late nights chilling on the hood of his car helped him not to act on it.

Now, with Aku in front of him with her long legs, pretty face, and freckles, Malik didn’t know if he could deprive himself of a once in a lifetime thing.