3.

Zee stepped out into the night, the cold Baltimore air slapping her face like a wake-up call. She zipped her hoodie higher, tucking her chin into the fabric as she scanned the street. It wasn't late enough for things to go dead, but the quiet stillness sent a ripple of unease through her. She felt eyes on her. Not the usual kind of eyes from random heads looking to score. This was different, more focused. It wasn't paranoia—her instincts had kept her alive this long, and she trusted them like religion.

Her phone buzzed again. Liana: "You good? Gonna swing by the crib?"

Zee stared at the text for a second, thumb hovering over the screen before she hit reply. Zee: "Not tonight. Gotta handle something."

Liana had been her girl since middle school, way before the hustle, back when life was simpler. Back when their only worry was passing math class and staying fly on the weekend. Those days were long gone now. The streets had them both, but Liana wasn't built for what was coming. Zee kept the dark parts of her hustle separate from her, like a secret she didn't want to share.

She stuffed the phone back into her pocket, shaking off the feeling of isolation creeping in. In this game, you had to play your cards close, keep your circle small, and your secrets even smaller. Trust was a luxury she couldn't afford. Not with K-Boss breathing down her neck and Breezy watching her every move like a hawk. She was in deeper than she'd planned, but Zee was no quitter. She'd survive, just like she always did.

As she made her way down the block, her mind replayed K-Boss's words: Send them a message. That could mean anything. It was the way he said it that bothered her—the weight behind the words, like he wasn't just talking about business anymore. He was talking about control. Territory. She knew enough about K-Boss to recognize when he felt threatened, and someone moving product in his backyard without his blessing? That was a threat.

Her feet carried her toward the alley where the drop was supposed to happen. It was a regular spot, known to a select few, tucked between two dilapidated buildings that hadn't seen love in decades. Graffiti covered the walls, telling stories of the past, gangs that rose and fell, and names long forgotten. The place smelled like old garbage and desperation, but Zee wasn't fazed. This was home.

She ducked into the shadows, slipping behind a dumpster, waiting. Her pulse quickened, not from fear, but from the adrenaline that always came before a deal. It was the same every time—her senses heightened, her brain calculating the risks, planning the escape routes, and mentally counting her steps in case things went sideways.

She heard footsteps approaching before she saw the figures. Three of them, all dudes, all hooded, moving like they were used to sticking to the shadows. Zee felt her hand drift toward her waistband, fingers brushing the cold metal of her Glock. She wasn't about to draw first, but she was ready. Always ready.

The tallest one stepped forward, his hood falling back to reveal a shaved head, a scar running across his jaw like a badge of honor. He gave Zee a once-over, eyes lingering on her bag, before he spoke.

"You Zee?" His voice was rough, like he smoked three packs a day and didn't give a damn.

Zee didn't answer right away. She took her time, studying him, sizing up the situation. The other two dudes hung back, their hands shoved into their pockets like they were packing. No one came to a deal like this empty-handed.

"Depends who's asking," Zee finally replied, her voice steady, even.

Shaved Head smirked, glancing back at his boys like he'd just heard the punchline to some inside joke. "K-Boss sent you, right? Told me to expect a girl."

Zee hated how he said it—girl—like that was supposed to mean something. Like she was supposed to be softer or less dangerous because of it. She bit back her response, keeping her cool. K-Boss's name was enough to keep things civil, at least for now.

"Yeah," she said, her voice calm, but with an edge that made it clear she wasn't here to play games. "You got the cash?"

Shaved Head nodded to one of his boys, who stepped forward, pulling a fat envelope from his pocket and tossing it to Zee. She caught it mid-air, flipping through the bills with quick fingers. It was all there, crisp and clean, just like it was supposed to be.

She reached into her bag, pulling out one of the tightly sealed bundles and tossing it to Shaved Head. He caught it, giving it a quick sniff before passing it to his boys.

"Good shit," he said, but there was something in his tone that made Zee's spine stiffen. "You're moving fast, Zee. Heard you got other hustles goin' too."

Zee's hand tightened around the strap of her bag. She knew where this was going, and she didn't like it. Word on the street was always faster than the truth, and she couldn't afford for people to start talking about her side hustle.

"I move how I move," she said, her voice cold. "That a problem for you?"

Shaved Head chuckled, low and menacing. "Not for me. But K-Boss? He likes to keep his soldiers focused. You out here printing shit that's catching heat. Switches. Glocks. People talking."

Zee's heart skipped a beat, but her face stayed stone. How the hell did he know about the switches? She'd been careful. Too careful, or so she thought.

"You hearing things," Zee said, her tone dismissive. "I'm here for the weed, not rumors."

Shaved Head took a step closer, invading her space, the stench of cigarettes clinging to him like a second skin. "Nah, Zee. I ain't hearing things. I know things. And K-Boss? He don't like secrets."

Zee's hand drifted closer to her Glock, her muscles tensing. She could take him out right now if she needed to. But that wouldn't solve her problem. Word would get back to K-Boss, and that was a heat she couldn't afford.

"What you want?" Zee asked, cutting to the point. She wasn't about to play games with a dude who knew too much.

Shaved Head smiled, and it wasn't friendly. "I want in. I hear you got a nice little side hustle goin'. You're smart, Zee. Too smart to keep it all for yourself. You bring me in, I make sure no one else comes sniffin' around. Keep it clean."

Zee stared at him, her mind racing. He was offering protection, but it was more than that. He was laying down a trap, making it clear that if she didn't cut him in, he'd blow up her spot. Tell K-Boss. Tell the streets. And that would be the end of her.

She kept her face blank, but inside, rage boiled. How had she let it come to this? She thought she'd covered her tracks. Thought she could keep the two worlds separate. But the streets had a way of knowing things you didn't want them to.

Zee took a slow breath, weighing her options. She could kill him here, but it wouldn't end there. Or she could play the game, keep him close, and figure out a way to get rid of him later.

"I'll think about it," Zee said, her voice calm, betraying none of the turmoil inside.

Shaved Head grinned, like he'd already won. "You do that. But don't take too long. Streets are gettin' hot, Zee. You don't wanna get burned."

With that, he turned, motioning for his boys to follow. They slipped into the shadows, leaving Zee standing alone in the alley, her mind spinning.

She watched them go, her hand still resting on the Glock, her pulse pounding in her ears. The game had just changed, and Zee wasn't sure if she could win this time.

As the silence of the alley closed in around her, one thought echoed in her mind: I gotta get out before this blows up.

But getting out was never that simple. Not when you were this deep.