“I’m sorry,” I mumble while stifling a yawn.
Beast shrugs as he slides off the bed. “Night, Bella,” he murmurs before leaving the room.
I do sleep for real this time. No monsters hiding in the depths of my dreams.
Beast
My mom would have killed me if she saw how I’ve been ignoring Bella the past two days. Sitting with Bella two nights ago on her bed, further cemented my attraction to her and I can’t have that. I can’t have any form of attraction to that woman as I will break her.
She’s so vulnerable, mind and body. One night with me would be all it took for her to crack under pressure.
So, I do the only thing I know how to do and that’s run. I’ve been in a two day run getting the money from people who owe us for one thing or another. My back is pretty fuckin’ stiff from riding my bike through the whole state, but I needed the time away from Bella.
I ride through the neighborhood of Beto, an up and comer of a stupid street gang that no one recognizes. Turns out, the bastard is two payments behind meaning he owes us a total of four grand. You better believe I will be collecting that money today.
I’ve always hated this neighborhood where Beto lives. Actually, it’s not even a neighborhood. Most of the people who live in this city call it the Green Projects since it’s on Green Street. Nothing about this place is green besides the greed behind the wannabe gangster’s eyes. They are all hungry and I’m an outsider. Which means, they might try and cash in on what they think I have.
Coming up through the ranks of Diablo,I have had to get fuckin’ smart with the amount of money I carry on me. These wannabe thugs will be quick with knocking me out and taking my money. I don’t bring the money with me when I ride through Green Projects. I’m not asking to get fuckin’ killed over a couple grand.
I cut off my bike after it has been parked in front of Beto’s apartment he lives in with his pregnant girlfriend. The girlfriend doesn’t look much older than sixteen or seventeen and she’s pregnant with their second kid. No wonder he’s trying to rise through the ranks through his street gang. He needs the money to pay for his family.
“Hey, mister! Is that your bike?” A little kid asks me as he points to it.
I nod. “Sure is, little man. You like bikes?” I ask him.
We’re standing across from each other with about two parking spots worth of distance. I can tell he doesn’t want to get too close to me. A lot of the parents tell their kids to be careful around outsiders like me. I wouldn’t want my kid talking to someone like me.
He nods. “Yeah! A couple’a bikes was here earlier!”
The kid has to be between three and four years old with his hair slicked back and a bandana over his head. He looks like his parents watch a lot of old hip hop music videos while trying to tell their kid to dress up like one. I think he looks cool, however, he probably has no idea what look he’s going for.
“A couple of bikes?” I question. None of the gangsters ride motorcycles and they wouldn’t have driven them over here for no reason. “Did they have a vest on like mine?” I pull at the lapel of my cut. “See how it’s soft and shiny looking in the sun?”
I don’t want to scare him but whoever was here did not come for a happy reason. I think I’m being played.
“Yeah!” He nods his head excitedly. “They talked to that guy in that place!” He points towards Beto’s apartment.
“Did you hear anything?”
He shakes his head. “No! Can I sit on your bike?”
I nod my head considering what the kid is asking me. If I let him on my bike, he will probably tell me everything he’s heard from Beto’s apartment. “Sure, kid, but you have to do something for me.”
He nods. “Yeah! Whuh?”
“You can sit on my bike if you tell me everything you heard in that apartment. I know you heard something. Do we have a deal?”
I’m not going to tell the kid that bikers don’t let anyone on their bikes unless it’s a hot woman who opens her legs. If I caught any guy sitting on my bike, I’d make it so his face was unrecognizable. But the kid heard something in the apartment and that’s why he’s trying to talk to me. He’s scared.
He shifts on his feet. “My dad always says ‘snitches get stitches.’ I don’t wanna get stitches.”
I walk over to him and lean down in front of him. “That is true but I’m your friend now. I won’t let anything like that happen to you. My name’s Beast. What’s yours?” I stick my hand out for him to shake it.
“Kyle.”
The kid is a couple of years younger than what my kid would have been if Christal didn’t get an abortion. I bet my kid would have been cool like Kyle too. The only difference, I wouldn’t let my kid sit outside talking to strangers.
Especially not in this fucking neighborhood. Hell no. I wouldn’t live in this neighborhood, for one thing.
