Instinct led me back to the home I once shared with my ex-boyfriend, Booda. When I got there, I damn near fainted. Everything was gone, and it looked like no one had ever lived there.
From there, another memory came back to me. We had a stash house, so I hitchhiked a ride across town to get to it. When I arrived, I saw that thieves had broken into it and torn it apart. The only good thing was that one of our cars was still there, and I also found a small stash of money they had missed.
That was how I got a vehicle and a little cash.
Everything I owned was crammed into the back seat and trunk, packed into boxes that had seen better days. I opened the back door and grabbed the closest one, adjusting it against my hip before pushing the door shut with my foot. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had.
I turned toward the building and headed for the stairs, keys in hand. The heat clung to my skin, and the weight of the box dug into my arms, but I didn’t slow down.
I had a place now. That was enough.
“Bitch, run me whatever you got in them flat-ass pockets. And it better not be air,” a boy, no older than thirteen, spat as the cold metal of his gun barrel kissed my forehead, stopping me in my tracks.
Baby fat still sat in his cheeks, and his caramel skin was too smooth to have ever seen a breakout. However, the way he gripped that .38 made him look far older than his age.
I looked at the revolver, then at him, and my lip curled instantly. My first thought was to snatch that pistol and shoot him in the face.
But then, where would I go?
It wasn’t like I had many options. I had more lint in my pocket than cash. More importantly, there were no other apartments I could afford. Not many places worked with a zero-dollar budget.
I slowly set the box I’d been holding in my arms on the sidewalk, then took a small step forward to see what the kid would do.
He took a step back. Like I knew he would.
“Get the fuck out of my face and find you something safe to do. You picked the wrong one to try,” I warned, hoping he’d take heed because I wasn’t for the bullshit today.
The boy didn’t move. If anything, his grip tightened, and his chin lifted. He had something to prove.
“Just do what I said before things get ugly. Think I’m playing?” he shot back, head tilting to the side, eyes narrowing as he glared at me.
Breathing deeply, I held up my fingers between us. “Three.”
“Keep going,” the boy said, licking his lips. “You get to one, and I ain’t got my money, you’re the one that’s gon’ be getting buried. Think it’s a game.”
I grinned, liking this lil’ fella’s spirit. If he wasn’t standing in front of me with a weapon, trying to rob me for what little I had, I might’ve liked him. He had heart. Just not enough sense to go with it.
“Two.” I folded a finger down.
The kid shifted his feet, but kept the gun up, trying to hold onto his pride. However, I could tell he was scared shitless. This had to be the first time he’d ever gotten pushback.
“I don’t want to hurt you, lady. Just give up the goddamn money,” he sneered, trying to hold eye contact but kept blinking too fast.
I let my eyes sit on him, really sit, so he would feel it.
He swallowed. Sweat beads slid down the side of his face, and he scraped a hand through his hair.
“One.”
My hand dropped, and I stepped into him faster than he could react. One swift motion slapped his arm down. Another twistedbehind him, grabbed his wrist, and forced his firearm up to his temple.
“You gon’ do what to who?” I asked, smashing the barrel into his skull.
Piss ran down his legs, and his knees locked. “I—I was just—” His voice shrank, losing all that edge it had a second ago.
“Just what?” I maneuvered his wrist to make him smack himself across the head with his revolver. “I could kill you right now and get away with it,” I whispered in his ear, fighting the urge to do just that.
A screen door slammed, and a woman’s panicked shout came from behind me.
