I hand over the cash and as soon as we’ve collected the haul, he’s slamming the doors and jumping back behind the wheel.
Rolling my eyes, I say, “You’d think he’d be a bit less paranoid, we’ve been dealing with him for the last year and a half and had no comeback.”
“Works for me. No chitchat and all that.”
Shoving the weapons in the trunk, Jermaine takes the long way back to Tariq’s and I fall onto the couch with a joint as the others hide the shooters in the walls around the house.
Clare slumps beside me and goes to swipe the joint from me.
“The fuck?”
“Come on, sharing is caring.”
Narrowing my eyes, I shuffle away from her.
“Like I care.”
“It’s obvious you don’t, Amelia hasn’t heard from you in weeks.”
“And this is your business how?”
“She’s my best friend,” she argues.
“You’re fucking my friend, yet you’re nothing to me. Stay out of it.”
Shrugging, she jumps up and disappears into the kitchen. Let her annoy someone else. Leaning forward, I drop the half smoked joint in the ashtray and head out. Stopping at the gate, I look up the street to my house and know if I go home now, all I’ll do is think of how I fucked up with Amelia. Jumping in my car, I bring it to life and pull away. Downtown is bustling with the dregs of society going about their dodgy dealings and I find myself driving toward Amelia’s side of the city.
I shouldn’t be here. Fuck knows why I am. But I carry on and park up across the street from her house.
Above the wall surrounding her property, I can just about see her window. The light’s off and I wonder if she’s sleeping.
Through Clare, I’ve learned she has plenty of friends from school, but she only hangs out with Clare. Personally, I’d choose plenty of other people over her. But if Amelia sees something in me worth getting to know and like, maybe she sees something in Clare that I don’t.
Light fills my car and I slink down in my seat as a blood red Porsche drives past me. Her gates open and she drives in. They close behind her, and I wonder where the fuck she’s been at this time of night. Turning the car on, I roll down the street and see her run into her house with a brown bag.
What the fuck is she up to? I burn to scale the wall and see for myself, but I don’t trust myself to be close to her and not do anything.
Heading back to the streets I’m all too familiar with, I park up outside my house and cut the engine.
Inside, everyone’s in bed and I use the bathroom before opening a beer from the fridge.
“Did mom tell you I have a school trip to the space museum?”
Over my shoulder, Connor stands in the kitchen doorway, and I nod, even though I haven’t heard shit about it.
“How much? I forgot,” I lie.
“Thirty bucks.”
Christ, these trips get more expensive. I never pull out the cash I have on me, I don’t want to see the stars in their eyes, thinking money is easy to come by in my world. I mean, it is, but the threat lingering around is never ending. It’s easy until there are bullets flying toward you.
“I’ll leave it on the table. Go on, you should get to bed, it’s late.”
As to prove my point, a yawn escapes him.
“I was waiting for you.”
Moving closer to him, I ruffle his hair and receive a punch to the gut in return.
