Amir
“Yo, Jasmine, wait up.” I chased Crew’s sister out the doors and into the streets. Shorty was running so fast away from me, she ran into the road, almost getting hit by a taxicab going at least ten miles over the fuckin speed limit.
“Amir.” Delilah walked out behind me.
“Where are you going? I thought we were having lunch?”
“We will Delilah. I’ll be back. I have to make a phone call real quick.” I waved Delilah off, who rolled her eyes and went back into the building as I turned around to follow Jasmine.
“Yo, slow down.” I finally caught up to her after having to run full speed behind her.
“You alright?
“I’m fine. Now I have to go.” She tried to take off from me again, but I grabbed her by her arm.
“You running from me like I’m chasing your ass to hurt you or something.”
“Well, you might be. Who knows with you?”
“Damn, that’s what you think of me. That I would hurt a female for no reason?”
She broke from my grip and blinked twice as she looked up into my eyes. I didn’t mean to be looking at my homie sister like that, but Jasmine was pretty as hell. She looked like a young 90’s version of Toni Braxton. She had that same softness in her eyes and shit, but still, I knew deep down, there was probably nothing soft about her. This is a Brooklyn chick we're talking about. They are born with an attitude.
“Umm, Amir, I legit watched you kill someone not even a foot away from me. There was blood splatter on my fuckin legs because of you!”
“Look, I’m sorry about that, and I didn’t mean for it to go down in front of you. I moved off emotions because he was disrespecting you and me, but I appreciate you keeping your mouth closed about the ordeal, and I give my condolences to you if you actually cared about that dude.”
“Uh, yeah, I cared, that was my boyfriend.”
I shook my head, having to wipe off the sarcastic smile across my face.
“What’s funny?”
“Nothing, it’s just wild that you're referring to him as your boyfriend when he was manhandling you like you were some random hoe. I had been watching you two go back and forth the entire time on that toxic shit. Now, I’m not sure if that was his first time handling you in that way, but you didn’t deserve a nigga like that.”
“You don’t know what I deserve.” She folded her arms and flared her nostrils. There was that Brooklyn chick I knew was in there.
“Listen, I hope the shit gets better for you, and again, I appreciate you for keeping it a buck with me and not telling the cops anything.”
She stepped closer to me, putting her finger straight into my chest.
“I didn’t keep it a buck with you, I kept it a buck with my brother because he begged me not to go to the cops on you! I fight my conscience every fuckin day because of that shit, and that’s why I was in that fuckin office in the first place. Dr. Rashid is the only ending to this dark ass tunnel I’ve been in since you did that to Trey!”
“So, you told Delilah what happened?” My eyebrows furrowed. Delilah knew all about my family, my upbringing, and the fact that I was in the streets, but she wasn’t aware that I was a cold-blooded killer who killed to make money. I’m not sure she could handle hearing what kind of man I grew up to be outside of high school. Back then, she always told me that it was good I wasn’t like the rest of my family. Little did she know, I was the most cutthroat nigga in the family.
“No, I didn’t tell her anything specifically, just talked around the situation, and the trauma of growing up in New York. You must know her personally or something?”
“Yeah, I know her. We go back.”
She rolled her eyes.
“Go back, I know what that means. You fuckin her without a title. Trust I’ve gone way back with a few niggas myself.” Her lips twisted to the side before walking off.
“Where are you headed to now?”
“The bus stops if you don’t mind.”
“You riding a fuckin bus? Does your brother know you're running around New York by yourself?”
