Armed and Dangerous

Miyah’s POV

It started with Zoey. She was the one who suggested it.

“Wi cyaah always depend pon di man dem fi protect wi,” she said, her voice firm. “If Amanda or anybody else try step to we again, we haffi know how fi defend wi self.”

Ashley nodded in agreement. “True. Mi tired fi feel like wi cyaah control wi own safety. Time fi level up.”

Zaire had been hesitant at first. “Miyah, I don’t want yuh mix up inna di kinda life mi live,” he said, his tone protective but firm. “But if unuh really serious ‘bout learning, mi wi link Malik and Giovanni.”

And so, it began.

We met Malik and Giovanni at an abandoned warehouse Zaire owned on the outskirts of town. The place was massive, with steel walls that echoed every sound. Giovanni stood leaning against a table filled with weapons, his usual smirk on his face.

“Welcome to di battlefield, ladies,” he said, arms crossed. “Unuh sure unuh ready fi dis?”

Ashley rolled her eyes. “Stop talk and teach, Gio.”

Malik stepped forward, his tone more serious. “This not a joke ting. If unuh waan learn, yuh haffi listen and be disciplined. Guns not fi play wid.”

For the next few hours, they showed us the basics. Malik was patient, explaining how to hold the gun, how to aim, and how to maintain control. Giovanni was less formal, cracking jokes in between demonstrations but still making sure we got the point.

“Relax yuh grip, Miyah,” Malik instructed as I lined up my shot. “Yuh cyaah be tense, or yuh wi miss every time.”

I exhaled slowly, focusing on the target ahead. When I pulled the trigger, the recoil jolted through me, but I hit the mark—barely.

“Good,” Malik said with a small smile. “Wi ago work pon accuracy next.”

By the end of the session, my arms ached, and my ears were ringing, but there was a strange sense of pride bubbling inside me. I wasn’t just a girl caught in the middle of Zaire’s dangerous world anymore—I was becoming someone who could hold her own.

Ashley’s POV

If yuh tell me couple weeks ago seh mi wudda deh yah learning fi shoot, mi wudda laugh. But di way life set up, yuh haffi prepare fi anything.

After the shooting lesson, Giovanni and Malik took it up a notch. They started teaching us how to fight—properly. Zoey was a natural, throwing punches like she’d been doing it her whole life. Miyah had a quiet determination, her movements sharp and focused.

Me? I wasn’t about to let them outshine me.

“Come harder, Ashley!” Giovanni barked as I swung at the punching bag. “Yuh nuh soft, so stop act like it.”

“Shut up, Gio,” I muttered, putting more force behind my punch.

“Betta,” he said with a grin. “If Amanda or any a har fren dem try fi step to yuh again, dem haffi tink twice.”

By the end of the session, we were all drenched in sweat but feeling unstoppable.

“Unuh bad now,” Zoey said, grinning as she wiped her forehead. “Amanda cyaah chat to wi again.”

“More than bad,” I replied, flexing my sore arms. “Wi dangerous.”

Zaire’s POV

Watching Miyah handle a gun for the first time stirred a mix of pride and unease in me. I wanted her to be safe, but seeing her so determined to stand her ground reminded me why I loved her. She wasn’t just beautiful—she was fearless.

“You really think this necessary?” I asked Malik later that night as we packed up.

“Yuh know seh it necessary,” he replied. “Dem woman yah a target now. Dem haffi know how fi defend demself.”

He was right. Amanda and her schemes were far from over. And with the enemies I’d made over the years, it wasn’t just Amanda I had to worry about.

I glanced over at Miyah, who was laughing with Zoey and Ashley. She caught my eye and smiled, a look of confidence on her face that hadn’t been there before.

“Alright,” I muttered to myself. “If dis a di road we haffi walk, den so be it.”

But deep down, I knew—things were only going to get more dangerous from here.

Zoey’s POV

That night, the three of us sat around Miyah’s living room, nursing sore muscles and recounting the day’s events.

“Malik serious, eeh?” Ashley said, rubbing her shoulder.

“Serious and sexy,” Zoey added with a mischievous grin.

“Focus, Zoey,” Miyah said, shaking her head.

We all laughed, but there was an underlying tension in the air. We were stronger now, but we all knew the fight wasn’t over.

“This is just di beginning,” I said, my tone serious. “Amanda, di enemies, all a dem—dem nah ready fi wi.”

Ashley raised her glass of water like it was champagne. “To being bad gyals.”

Miyah and I clinked our glasses against hers, a silent promise passing between us.

We weren’t just surviving anymore. We were fighting back.

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