Her wicked smirk returns, and I frown.
“I don’t know, I kinda think it’s hot,” she admits.
“You’re not serious?”
“You weren’t upstairs last night, it was defiantly hot, Amelia.”
Her laughter fills the kitchen, and I exhale a long breath.
“There’s something wrong with you, you know that, right?”
“If it always feels this good to be this wrong, then I’m down.”
Rolling my eyes, I make a start on breakfast, hoping there aren’t any graphic details to come from her and put me off my food.
“The fair’s in town, we could go shopping and then hit the fair tonight.”
The fair is much better at night when the lights and music contrast the dark sky.
“Sounds good to me.”
6
Darius
I’m not blind to the violent poverty crippling Dog City. I live it and breathe it on a daily basis. Driving through the streets, it’s nothing new to me to see junkies loitering in shop doorways and kids running free, parents not knowing what their offspring are doing or where they are, nor giving a shit.
I learned at an early age where I belong, and to survive, you have to step up and truly understand it’s a dog-eat-dog world. Tariq’s the one who dreams of riches and a big house. His imagination is essentially a rapper’s music video. The cars, women, bling, the lot.
I’ve driven down Gold Mile plenty of times, but I’ve never been on the other side of the gates. Clare’s house is a mansion, filled with everything Tar and I could never afford. She has it all yet acts like she has nothing.
Pulling up outside Tariq’s house, I say, “Before we deal with last night, I need to know the rich bitch isn’t going to cause trouble for us.”
His reaction is to laugh, and it sets me on edge, irritating me to no end.
He holds his hand out flat and says, “She’s right where I want her. Putty.”
Rolling my eyes, I shake my head and wait for him to haul his ass out of my car. He slams the door after him and leans on the window ledge.
“What went down between you and Amelia last night?”
“Nothing. Unlike you, I’m able to control my dick. Give me an hour and we’ll regroup and end these Six-Nighters assholes.”
He laughs, and I pull away as he walks up his front path. My house is only four houses up and I park on my drive and take pride in the neatly trimmed front lawn and the vibrantly colored flowers lining the borders around the front of the house. The only thing my Ma loves more than us kids is her garden. We’re the only one on the street with green grass as she waters it morning and night without fail. Everyone else’s are burnt and could do with being mowed. Not many people give a shit about this place.
Letting myself into the house, my grandma is perched in her armchair watching the latest episode of her soap opera she loves. My two kid brothers are sat up the small table eating their cereal and my mom storms through from the utility room, a basket of laundry on her hip and a scowl on her face.
Her mood is nothing new. She hates it when I stay out all night. It’s common around these parts, that when your boy doesn’t make it home to his own bed, it’s because he’s not making it home ever again. There are at least two to three mothers who have to bury their sons every week but what my mom doesn’t realise, I’m alive today because I know how to survive. I’m the one the mothers curse for ending their son’s lives. To make it, there aren’t any boundaries I won’t cross.
“A phone call would’ve been nice,” she mutters, dumping the laundry basket on the end of the couch.
“I was a little busy.”
I nab a piece of toast from Connor’s plate and chuckle when he tries to slap my hand away.
“We’re running out of groceries.”
Digging into my back pocket, I pull out the cash she needs to fill the cupboards and her mood instantly lifts. As usual. She’s had a hard life, I don’t blame her for how she is, but sometimes I wish she would just take responsibility for the lives she created, instead of relying on me or boyfriends she brings around, telling us they’re her forever man, when in reality, they’re nothing but temporary fixtures who beat on her and treat her like shit. Now I’m older, it hasn’t been so bad because the so-called grown ass men who walk through the door know or learn real quick of my reputation.
