I dropped back inside the car, breathing hard with my heart pounding in my ears as we flew through intersections, cutting between rows of buildings, Crew still driving like we were being chased.
My adrenaline was so high that I didn’t even know I had been shot in the arm until I felt the blood trickling down my arm.
“Fuck, I got hit,” I said under my breath because I didn’t want to scare the girls.
“Alright, you're going to be straight. We just need to get to my crib. P you good back there?”
“Yeah, I’m okay, are you, baby?’
“I’m straight, what about you, Jas?”
“I’m okay.”
Crew took his phone from his pocket and put it up to his ear after dialing a number.
“Nigga, we just got in a shootout.”
I’m sure he was talking to Hov as I took the bandana that was wrapped around the rifle and put it around my arm until I can get some help for this shit.
When we pulled up to Crew’s house, I spotted Hov sitting on his porch with a rifle in his arms.
He jogged across the street, looking in each direction, and Pernelle and Jasmine climbed from out of the backseat, still shaken up from the shootout.
“Baby, are you going to come inside?” Pernelle asked Crew.
“In a minute. Let me talk to Hov right quick.”
“Okay, but hurry up. Please. I don’t want you just standing out here.”
“We lost them, baby, don't worry. I’ll be inside in a minute.” He replied, and her and Jasmine filed into the house, arms linked up.
“So, we have no clue who those niggas were? No word of threats on the streets?”
“The only word I’ve gotten is that nigga Marcus putting a hit out on Crew. Other than that, I haven’t heard shit about niggas wanting war with us. Especially on that level.”
“Yeah, that’s a whole other level they're on. Them niggas shot at me with my fuckin wife and baby sister with me. I’m not playing fair at all after this shit. They done woke that nigga up inside of me, everybody wanted to die.”
“Overstood. I would feel the same way.” Hov replied, before looking over to me.
“You got hit?”
“Yeah, once in the arm. It's burning like shit but not as bad as the last time. I’ll be straight.”
“Alright nigga but go in the house and sit tight. Can you get Aunt Tracy on the line?” Crew asked Hov.
“Already on it.” Hov put his phone up to his ear, and we all walked into Crew’s house into just the quiet you need after a shootout.
Chapter 9
Jasmine
Hov’s aunt Tracy and Amir were in Crew’s guest bathroom for two and a half hours while the rest of us sat in the nearby kitchen, pretending not to listen. Every now and then, the subtle wincing of pain and sucking of teeth cut through the quiet, making everybody shift uncomfortably in their seats.
Amir was taking whatever pain he was going through a lot better than I would have. Getting shot already sounded scary enough, but not going to the hospital immediately after sounded like death to me. Every time he let out a low grunt, my stomach tightened, and I glanced toward the hallway like I expected him to come stumbling out any second. That and the fact that his grunts were making me think of something else because they sounded so sexy.
The bathroom door finally opened, and Tracy stepped out first, peeling off a pair of bloody gloves. There was a faint smear of red on the cuff of her sleeve, and she exhaled like she’d been holding her breath the entire time she had been in there.
“What’s the update, Doc?” Hov asked.
