┏━━━━✶ ࣪˖࿐ *━━━━┓

SECURITY DETAIL

MONSE'S MOTHER DYING WAS NOT ON ELLA TURNER'S SUMMER PREDICTIONS LIST.

Hell, it wasn't even on her life predications list, considering she was a deadbeat who'd run off and ended up in Brentwood. It felt like she'd heard more about the woman in the last twenty four hours than in the entirety of her time knowing the Finnie girl.

Ella was helping Jamal with his tie as he babbled to someone on the phone. Well, babbled to someone's voicemail, given the lack of answers he seemed to be receiving as he talked. She could only assume it was this elusive lady friend of his, the one no one had met, and rolled her eyes when he eventually hung up.

"Hate to break it to you, but it doesn't sound like you're getting a plus one to a funeral, J," she laughed, patting him on the shoulder. "But sweet of you to ask."

"Oh, sue me for trying to make sure everybody's included," he sighed, arms going up in exasperation.

Their father entered through the doorway. "You ready?" he asked the boy.

"I'm going with Jasmine," he clarified, with a little too much nonchalance for the man's evident liking.

A breathy, "No," was Dwayne's immediate reaction, rushing up to the boy. "No, I'm gonna drive you and pick you up. I need eyes on you both."

Ella's face twisted up, but it was Jamal who took a softer approach. "Dad, you're being a little crazy.. and it's not a good look."

"Agreed," their mother, who appeared right behind Ella, emphasized. "Dwayne, nothing's going to happen to and from Brentwood."

Their father was in inexplicable denial. "You don't know what could happen," he scolded them all. "Shit's changing here."

"Maybe here, but Brentwood?" Ella scoffed out. "That's the safest place he could be."

"You need to stop making him so afraid!" their mother added.

Dwayne shook his head. "No. Fear makes him alert. He needs to be on guard."

"I am on guard," Jamal deadpanned. "I literally have an escape plan for any natural, divine, or human-induced global disaster."

Ella's own hands were thrown up in the air. "Of course you do."

"I'm talking meteorological, hydrological, geophysical, fungal—"

"Listen to me," Dwayne interjected. "As long as I've lived in Freeridge, it's always been about the devils that we knew. And now it's about the devils that we don't know."

"You're being hyperbolic," their mother lightly scolded, before looking to Jamal. "See? This is where you get it from."

"And thank God for that," Ella murmured to herself, only to be flicked on the arm by the woman herself.

"Everything's gonna be fine! It's just a bump in the proverbial road. Sometimes things need to take a turn for the worse before they get better," Fran explained softly. "Stop talking like someone's gonna put a sack on his head and throw him in the back of a van."

The Turner siblings locked eyes immediately, and whereas Ella's jaw clenched shut to the point where she felt a pang of pain, Jamal just started to laugh. "Yeah, that would never happen," he cackled.

"Exactly," their mother responded. "So, honey, just go. Text us when you get there."

Jamal took that as an out and immediately bounced out of the room. Dwayne turned to his wife. "Why would you do that? Why undercut me in front of him?"

"Honey, no one is rolling up on our weird kid," Fran responded, cupping his cheek before she gestured to their eldest child. "You should be more worried about this one."

Although she'd meant it as a joke, with her playful tone and all, Ella saw the way her father's gaze zeroed in on her as she tried inching her way to the door. Her hands went up in the air in defence. "I really don't."

Dwayne gave her a levelled look.

"Oh, you do."

✶ ࣪˖*

"This is some next level bullshit."

Ella was getting a nauseating sense of deja vu, what with being back in the mini mart and along with the shadow behind her that was holding her basket.

In Dwayne asking for protection, Ella thought he simply meant for himself, for their home, and for the Joint. Unfortunately, all of the Turners were lumped into that— hence why Spooky had dropped Jamal off in Brentwood, and hence why Ella suddenly had her own protection detail.

Her own protection detail in the form of the very man following her around the mart with a smug look on his face.

"You complaining ain't gonna do anything," the man shrugged, reaching to the top shelf where Ella was struggling to reach for a certain bag of chips that she liked. "Might as well get used to this."

Ella glared at him. "If I didn't want my father to have a stress-induced stroke, I would've sent your ass packing," she said, turning on her heel. "Cause all of this isn't necessary, even you gotta know that."

"Your dad's place was targeted for a reason, Ella," Spooky muttered, eyes doing that compulsive little tick where they scanned the surrounding area before continuing. "Let's just say the Santos and Nineteenth Street ain't friendly."

She frowned. "But my dad's not a—" At the pointed look he gave her, she faltered. "Oh."

Nineteenth Street didn't have a problem with her father— no, they had a problem with her father's newest employee. Ray Diaz. "Yeah, oh."

Ella cleared her throat, looking back down at the list in her hand. She glanced up, noticing that he was blocking the shelf she needed. "Can you scooch?"

He shuffled over, watching as she grabbed for a specific type of ramen before putting it into the basket he held onto. He looked at it, and then back at her. "You like this shit now?" he asked, nodding at the ramen package she'd just handed off.

"I'm a college girl now, Spooky," she responded, using his very words from the day before. "Sometimes it's a steady rotation between that and strawberry jam sandwiches."

The man hummed, following as she dipped into another aisle. "No peanut butter?" he inquired some more, looking at her like he was analyzing her.

"I found out I'm allergic last year," she explained, swallowing around something that was lodged in her throat. Of course he wouldn't know that. "Peanuts and cashews, so..."

He whistled low under his breath. "Damn."

This sort of small talk, the kind where he was catching up on the happenings of Ella Turner in the last two years, was making her stomach churn. There had once been a time where Oscar would've been the first to know about the little things like a new nut allergy or two.

The more she looked at Spooky, though, the more she realized that time had come and gone. "Yeah," she mumbled, keeping a slight bitterness away. She cleared her throat. "I think we're all done here."

"Good," he nodded, following the girl to the front register. "I've got somewhere to be after this."

She gave him a flat look. "Then by all means, go," she told him, taking the basket from his hands. "I can walk from here if you're that busy."

Spooky rolled his eyes. "Not what I meant," he dismissed, taking the basket back from her with a strong pull. His head craned down toward her ear, and she couldn't stop her back from straightening instantaneously. "I'm meeting Cuchillos."

He began walking away as she scrambled to follow. "What?" she whispered out, as he deposited the basket for the teenager behind the counter to check out. "Why?" 

"Not that it's any of your business," he responded, tone kept low, "but I'm tryna buy them more time."

And by them, she knew he meant the teenagers tasked with finding Lil Ricky. "Where are you meeting her? You think she'll even give them extra time? J said she threw knives into a—"

"Your total is thirty eight dollars and twenty seven cents."

Forgetting they were in the mini mart for a second, Ella sputtered as she reached for the bills in her back pocket.

Only, she froze when the shadowy security detail himself threw some bills onto the counter, and waited for the change. "Excuse me?" she blinked, staring up at the man as the cashier handed back his change in what looked to be mostly quarters. "You can't—"

"Oh, I can't?" he half mocked, stepping forward to obtain the two bags that the items were put into. Ella stood there, mouth opening and closing like a damn fish, before he merely sauntered past her. "C'mon, I ain't got all day."

Ella trailed behind him. "You can't just do that!" she exclaimed, eye twitching as he gave a noncommittal hum.

He put the bags into the back seat, and leaned on the car. "Get in the car, college girl."

Ella's tongue ran over her teeth as she walked toward the car, slipping into the passenger seat with a hefty slam of the door. "You're insufferable."

Spooky scoffed, starting the ignition. "Says the one holding a grudge over some stupid shit."

"Stupid sh—" She cut herself off with an exhale, eyes twisting shut. She heard him descend into a fit of cackles, head thrown back as he pulled out of the lot.

If she left the money she'd brought on his seat, scurrying inside before he'd even noticed, then that was simply her prerogative.

✶ ࣪˖࿐ *

[ wyn's note ]

muhahaha it's the little things (and that's both a pro and a con, here). double update cause im procrastinating studying for my exam that's tmrw aka that im cooked for— but enjoy cuties LOLOL

all my love x