“He and Amir got into it, and Amir shot him.” Crew’s eyes almost sank in his head from confusion.
“What the fuck were they at it for?” He said under his breath, and I looked down into Trey’s eyes. I could see that he was fighting to stay alive, but he was losing the battle. I knew in my heart that he would only be alive for a few more minutes, and I was already asking myself, was this all my fault? Should I have never spit on him to make him that mad, even though he had put his hands on me before?
“Jasmine, listen.”
Crew called my name as I wept with Trey bleeding out in my arms.
“This nigga is about to die soon.” I started shaking my head in denial, crying like a baby.
“Listen, tell the cops you don’t know who shot him, alright?”
“What, why!” I raised my voice, but Crew instantly tried to quiet me down.
“Don’t yell, just listen to me. Tell them, someone robbed y’all. Don’t say Amir’s name.”
“Why not? He’s the one who shot him, and I know that!”
“I understand, but just listen to me. Don’t say anything, for me. I’m asking you not to.”
“But Crew, I, I don’t understand. Amir had already beat him up for what he was saying, but that wasn’t enough? He didn’t have to take it this far.”
“Listen!” Crew cut me off.
“Sometimes disrespect in a mind like Amir’s can cause actions that others might not see fit. Unfortunately, your nigga had to find that shit out in the hardest way possible. Don’t say anything, Jas. For your brother.” He looked down at Trey, shaking his head.
Crew looked around quickly and then snatched the necklace from around Trey’s neck and stuck it in his pocket. Trey was gone now, with no breath escaping his lips, and he was finally done suffering.
Now I was left to suffer with the guilt of my brother’s acquaintance taking his life. How in the hell am I supposed to get past something like this? Why does my life always have to be so fuckin hard?
Chapter 3
Jasmine
Two weeks later
Maleka, Rj, and I walked towards Maleka’s house after leaving Trey’s funeral early because of all the looks we were getting. No one said anything crazy to me, because they knew not to. I was protected by who my family is, but God forbid anything happens to that protection.
I’ll have a lot of enemies for sure to look out for, especially with the rumors and suspicions going around Brooklyn, though all wrong.
I’d heard that Crew killed Trey, I heard that I killed him because he cheated, and even that I set him up to be murdered by my new man. All inaccurate because the truth was far from all those lies. I, however, kept my mouth shut, as my brother asked, because he was the only person who always took care of me. When people asked what I knew, I kept it very vague. A white man in all black ran up on us, they fought, and then he shot and killed Trey.
“Jasmine, I’m just going to say it. Trey looked bad. Did the robber have to beat his ass like that and then shoot him? Inoticed the funeral home tried caking up that makeup on him to make him look better, but still.”
“Maleka, I really don’t want to talk about that right now. I want to get that site out of my head.”
“Well, friend, as always, you know I’m here for you. Morning, noon, or night. Just a call away.”
“Yeah, that’s if you're not at the club, at Shake Shack, or at this mysterious nigga house you fuckin with now.”
“My man is not mysterious, okay. You just don’t know him.”
Maleka told me the same canned response she had been saying for the past two weeks. Me and her usually tell each other everything, down to when our shit is a funny color, but for some reason, this new man of hers is a secret. My guess is that he's old as hell or somebody’s husband.
I held my son’s hand tight as we crossed the street. Though Rj has autism, he is one of the smartest kids I’ve ever been around. He’s verbal, finally, and he listens to me. As long as he's wearing his favorite blue headphones that Uncle Crew bought him, he’s fine.
Maleka and I walked into her house, and the strong scent of pepperoni was in the air. Maleka’s mama must’ve been making one of her pepperoni pizzas that she sold as a side hustle. She had a nice little clientele because of Facebook marketplace. Shit, my brother and his friends even come here to get pizza sometimes.
“Uh, uh, Maleka, don’t eat that. My customer is supposed to come get that pizza in ten minutes.”
