Passion of the Streets

by A'zayler

  Oni nodded.

  “It’s right. You and me. I need it.”

  Oni nodded again because she agreed with him wholeheartedly. She needed him too. “I need you more.”

  The fire in his eyes made Oni’s entire body hot as she began to tremble with satisfaction again. Soon after, he was doing the same thing and collapsed on top of her. Being that she was on birth control, there was no real rush for him to pull out, so she wrapped her arms and legs around him instead.

  His breathing was still a little ragged as he lay on top of her. “Can you stay with me tonight?”

  Oni closed her eyes because she hated when he would ask her that. He knew she worked like a madwoman and needed her rest, so staying out all night was something she did only rarely. She went for it sometimes, but with Gia in town, it would be a bit much for her to be spending the night off.

  “I want to but I can’t.”

  He raised up from her body and sat back in the chair. He stuffed his flaccid penis back into his pants and looked at her with pleading eyes. “Why not?”

  Oni sat up and pulled her skirt down, trying to fix herself the best she could. “You remember when I told you my cousin was coming into town to visit me? Well, she’s here. Got here the other day, and it would be pretty rude of me to leave her at my house alone while I go visit someone else.”

  Isaac was quiet as he nodded his understanding. “You could have brought her with you.” He smiled, and so did she.

  Oni shook her head. “Nah, I don’t think that’ll be a good idea.”

  “Why not? She doesn’t know about me?”

  “No, she knows. Gia just isn’t your average girl. She’s a little stuck up, so I don’t really know how well that might go.” Oni giggled as she thought about how many jokes Gia would have about Isaac if she was to spend the night with them.

  “Just ask her for me and see.” He rubbed his hands up and down her thighs.

  “I’ll see about it.” Oni looked behind her at the table. “Can we get cleaned up and eat right now, though?”

  Isaac’s beautiful smile crossed his face as he nodded and picked her up from the table. Oni wrapped her legs around him as he carried her down the hall to the bathroom so they could clean themselves up. Dinner came right afterward. When it was time to go, Oni hated it.

  “I hate leaving you.” She rubbed his hand as he walked her to her truck.

  “Don’t. I tell you all the time I can take care of you over here. You ain’t never got to go home if you don’t want to.”

  “I wish.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his lips. “I love you so much.”

  He pecked her forehead. “I know you do. I love you too. Drive careful and let me know when you get home.”

  “You have to work this weekend?”

  “Yeah. I have a few out-of-town loads.”

  Oni nodded before getting into her car. Isaac was a truck driver, so he spent a lot of time on the road, which was why their time together was so special to her. He waited until she cranked up and pulled away before going back into his house. Oni thought about Isaac the entire drive home. Maybe one day she would get bold enough to let it all go and just be with Isaac, but sadly she didn’t know when that would be.

  Chapter Four

  “I knew Gee was different from the first time I saw her, but it wasn’t until I willingly risked my life for her that I knew just how different she really was. I think about that day a lot, and there was nothing I would have done differently. I would gladly give my life for Gee. Then and now. No questions asked.”

  —Milli

  “Zazazzzzaah.” The annoying sound of his mother’s incoherent mumbling caught Jamil’s attention as soon as he walked in the house.

  She was slouched over on the sofa with her head lying back against the cushion. Her eyes were halfway open and her arm was facing up with a needle hanging out of it. There was one cream-colored stocking tied around her arm just above where the needle was and one still on her leg.

  “Zzzzzzaazaah.”

  Jamil turned his nose up as he watched her ride the high she’d just given herself. From the look of what she had on, she’d apparently just come from work or something, because her clothes were somewhat decent and her high heels lay beneath the coffee table.

  How could an insurance rep be a crackhead? Ask Zanetta, because she made that shit look easy. For a moment it angered Jamil to see that his parents were still finding drugs from somewhere, but he let it go. They were grown and could do what they wanted.

  “Jamillllll, is that you?” His father’s doped up voice came from the end of the hallway.

  “Yeah,” Jamil answered.

  “Where your mama?”

  “In here.” He heard his father clearing his throat.

  “She got the rest of my medicine in there?”

  Medicine?

  Jamil looked around where his mother was sitting, trying to see if he could see the rest of the drugs that she’d just been shooting up. When he spotted the empty bag on the floor near her foot, he sucked his teeth. He already knew what was to come when he told his father that it was all gone.

  “Nah, O, she took it all.”

  A few cuss words could be heard before his father did exactly what he knew he would.

  “I know you got something for your old man, don’t you?”

  Jamil hated that whenever they ran out of drugs they would try and use the fact that they were his parents to score some off him, even when they knew it wasn’t happening. It was funny that they forgot that one little detail when they were sober, but the moment they were out of drugs and money, they all of a sudden wanted to be Mama and Daddy. That shit was so dead.

  “I ain’t got it.”

  Jamil heard shuffling and something fall over before his father came staggering up the hallway. He had one hand on the buckle of his belt and the other sliding against the wall holding him up.

  “Come on, Milli Rock, let your daddy hold something.”

  Milli Rock?

  Yeah, that nigga was definitely on one. Just like stating that he was his father, calling him his street name was another way to try and scam drugs off him.

  “I said I ain’t got nothing.”

  Owen stopped in front of Jamil and stood to his full height. Owen was tall as hell and the reason why Jamil was four inches from being seven feet tall. Not the least bit intimidated by anything that might have had Owen feeling bad enough to confront him, Jamil stuck his hands in the pockets of his shorts and waited for what was next.

  “So you gon’ treat me like that? Like I ain’t shit, huh?”

  As badly as Jamil wanted to tell him that he wasn’t shit and he hated the day he’d been shot out of his ball sac, he didn’t. He could have, and probably was going to wish he had later, but for now he was in no real mood for theatrics. It was hot outside, and he’d had a long night and day. All he wanted to do was shower and fall into his bed.

  “You all big and grown now, so you feel like you’re better than me, huh?” Owen hit his chest dramatically. Looking just like the crackhead he was. “Mama and Daddy, the neighborhood crack addicts. Well, you know what?” Owen stepped closer, into Jamil’s face, and leaned down so that they were eye to eye. “You ain’t shit either. You ain’t no better than me and her. You sell it and we smoke it. Because of punk-ass niggas like you, we have a way to continue to get what the fuck we want.”

  Owen’s breath was atrocious, and it literally felt like it was burning the hair in Jamil’s nose. The putrid smell and the degrading things that were coming out of it only made Jamil angry. So angry that he had to take a step back to keep from beating Owen’s old ass. There had been many times in the past where he wanted to crack him across his old-ass head with a brick or something, but he’d respected the fact that they were his parents and let the shit slide. But today?

  Today was not his fucking day. So instead of breaking him off with an ass-whupping that would have him aching for days, Jamil simply held his hands up
in surrender.

  “You got it, Owen. I’m out.”

  Owen pointed toward the door. “That’s right! Take your ass on, and don’t come back unless you have my shit.”

  The vulgar language and idle threats came and went as Jamil exited the apartment. It was a little after seven, which was normally right around the time he lay down for a nap before his long night of trapping. Jamil took a few deep breaths as he walked toward the store. It was getting harder and harder to live with his parents, but he wasn’t quite ready to dip out on his own yet.

  It wasn’t like he didn’t have the funds, because he did. He was actually pretty well-off when it came to money, he just wasn’t really into living alone like that yet, or handling too many responsibilities with bills and such. Living with his parents was easy. Hand them the money and keep it moving. They may have been crackheads, but they knew how to handle their business. As long as Jamil had the money there, Zanetta paid the bills faithfully every month.

  He was almost positive that living alone would probably be better than living in that small-ass apartment with the dope fiends, but he’d cross that bridge when he got to it. For now he would deal with their bullshit because, plainly putting it, he wasn’t ready.

  Once he was across the street, Jamil went into the gas station, got his chips and a pack of gum, and left. Being that he had no real place to go and the fair was in town, he decided to walk across the street and go. It wasn’t like he had much else to do. Eating and walking around would give him and his parents the break they needed from each other.

  Before going across the street he called Iverson to see where he was. Maybe he could slide through.

  “Milli Rock, my nigga. What up?” Iverson’s voice came through his line.

  “Ain’t shit. About to head to this fair. You trying to slide?”

  Iverson yelled to somebody in his background. “Nah, I’m on the eastside right now. I ain’t gon’ be back down that way until later. Taking care of some business.”

  “A’ight. Bet. Just hit me when you get back this way.”

  “Bet.”

  Jamil hung up his phone, stuck it back into his pocket, and headed toward the crowd over at the fair. He wasn’t pressed that Iverson couldn’t come. That nigga was always somewhere doing something. He was about his paper, and he made it his business to get it by any means necessary.

  Since the sun had just gone down, the fair was packed. Girls with their babies, niggas with their girlfriends, and a buttload of young-ass children were walking around thinking they were grown.

  Different color weave and loud talking floated throughout the parking lot as Jamil walked through it. The smells of cotton candy, vinegar fries, and funnel cakes filled his nose as the carousel and other kiddie rides played what sounded much like circus tunes. It was a warm summer evening with just enough of a breeze to keep the sweat from arising.

  Jamil looked around at everybody, nodding and dapping people up along the way. Casually dressed in a pair of orange gym shorts and a black and orange shirt, with his all-black Jordan 12s, Jamil took a seat on the bench and stretched his arms and legs out. His hair was all down but tied back with two of his locs.

  He hadn’t thought to put on much of anything since he’d just been running to the barbershop to get an edge up earlier, but he was glad he at least looked decent. He hated to be out in the streets looking like he ain’t have shit. He wasn’t big on labels, but he had way too much money to be looking like a bum.

  The women walking past making sure that he saw them was starting to get annoying. He was doing his best to ignore the blatant stares and even the loud talking, but these young hoes ain’t have no chill. They were doing everything but taking their panties off and putting their pussies in his face.

  Jamil chuckled to himself as the girl who had just been trying to get his attention tripped over one of the large wires in the middle of the walkway.

  “So you do know how to smile?” a female voice said from beside him.

  Jamil looked over, and just that fast his smile was gone. It was the brown-skinned girl from the gas station yesterday. She was a very pretty girl and even kept herself tight, but he wasn’t into causal shit. That wasn’t him. Plus she was a little too bold for his liking. He liked a woman who chilled, one who knew how to keep a low profile like him.

  “You are so rude. You know that? You really should work on that shit.”

  Her attitude was so strong and annoying. First of all she was in his space, then she had the nerve to be telling him what he needed to do? Hell nah.

  “I’m not rude, I just don’t know you.”

  “And you never will with an attitude like that.”

  “Didn’t say I wanted to.”

  Jamil rose to his feet, prepared to walk away until he thought about the sexy chocolate girl she’d had with her earlier. For a quick second he thought about asking where she was but changed his mind. Ask her for what? It wasn’t like he was going to fuck with her for real anyway, so he walked away.

  It had been a little over an hour that he’d been there, and the sun had gone completely down. It was dark outside, and illumination in the parking lot was the large streetlights and all of the lights from the rides and stands. It was definitely time for him to go home.

  One thing he’d learned about the fair was that trouble could break out at any given moment, and he wanted no part of that. Even though he had his strap and would handle anything that popped off, he still wasn’t up for no shit like that. Getting hurt in another nigga’s fight had never been his style, so versus continuing around the rest of the fair, he made a left and headed for the exit.

  Just as he was getting close, he noticed the police running toward him. For a minute he stood still until he realized they weren’t running to him, but behind him. When Jamil turned around he noticed a large circle of commotion. There must have been a fight, and if there was one thing he would never do again in his life, it was run to a fight.

  His stride became a little more eager as he headed out. He looked over his shoulder once more when he heard yelling. The moment he was about to turn around and see what it was, he heard gunshots. It was like déjà vu. People were running and screaming, knocking each other over, pulling each other down. It was all bad, and all he could do was watch.

  It was pandemonium, and he was frozen in one spot. For some reason he couldn’t make himself move. It was like he was living the day that had changed his life forever all over again. With his heart going into overdrive, his hands began to shake as his knees threatened to buckle. For a moment, one moment only, he felt helpless.

  He probably would have still been standing there and never snapped out of it had he not noticed a familiar face crouched next to a metal trash can near the funnel cake stand with her hands over her head.

  Gia.

  Jamil watched her look from side to side as the commotion moved around her. How had she gotten caught directly in the middle of the fighting parties?

  Shots were fired off again while people did their best to run to safety. From that second to the next he was running across the parking lot, not caring who he was bumping into or the fact that he was running into the firing zone. All he cared about was not allowing history to repeat itself. He wouldn’t allow another beautiful life to be taken in his presence. Jamil sprinted as fast as he could, ducking and barely dodging the uproar of people in front of him.

  He squatted down next to her as soon as he was on the other side of the trashcan. He held his hand out to her and she looked up into his eyes. Jamil swore on everything he loved that in that moment his night had become lighter.

  The bright round eyes filled with fear locked with his, and it was like he could hear some soft-ass love song playing in the back of his mind. He knew there wasn’t really a song playing, but she made him feel like there might have been.

  She looked extremely scared as she placed her hand in his. Jamil pulled her from the ground and close to his body as he snatched his gun from the
holster resting at the bottom of his back. Her eyes widened when they fell on the large piece of black steel.

  “Just keep your head down, okay?”

  Gia nodded. “I don’t know where my cousin is,” she yelled frantically.

  Jamil didn’t even bother to acknowledge that because there was nothing he could or would do about that at the moment. With his gun in his hand ready to shoot anything that looked suspect, Jamil pulled her from the lights toward the parking lot. Surprisingly, she was keeping up with him. She had a death grip on his hand, but he had one right back.

  Scared to look away from her for too long, Jamil looked over his shoulder every so often, making sure she was still with him. Every time she was staring right back at him, her eyes laced with an intensified amount of fear.

  “Aye, ain’t that that nigga Milli Rock?” Jamil heard somebody say.

  He looked to his left quickly to see two young niggas with guns and blue bandannas tied around the bottom half of their faces pointing at him. He didn’t know who they were or why they would be singling him out at the moment, but he was ready for whatever. Jamil quickly pushed Gia behind him and pointed his gun toward the boys. In return they held theirs up and began walking toward him.

  “Gia, run to the gas station. I’ma come get you in a minute.”

  He could feel her shaking behind him, but he heard her say okay before taking off like lightning. She shot off fast and made her way across the grass. He wished he had time to admire her run, but he didn’t. He had begun firing shots at both of the boys the moment she took her first step.

  Jamil didn’t want one of them to shoot her because of him, so he made sure to give her a smoke screen. Much to his surprise, after he let off his first free shot into the air, the boys took off running in the other direction. Clearly they’d thought he was going to be an easy target, but that would never happen.

  Jamil quickly put his gun down and meshed himself in with the throng of people running past him. Being that there was so much going on, he wasn’t worried about the police seeing him. With the new surge of adrenaline pumping through him, Jamil took off across the street toward the gas station.