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Breeze finally heard from Primo while Dior was in the shower. She heard her friend sobbing in the bathroom and it broke her heart. She knew that Dior had to be sick. If anything happened to Primo she’d lose her mind.
“Hey baby girl,” Primo said.
“Hey. Where you at?” she asked.
“I’m where I need to be. Where you at?” he asked.
“Imma stay wit’ Dior tonight. Brian got shot.”
“Damn.” Primo sighed, feeling bad for the young dude. “Yeah, stay wit’ yo’ girl. I’ll be home in a few days. Don’t tell nobody shit,” he told her, which she already knew. “And get rid of that phone,” he said before he hung up.