by J. J. Bella
When she reached the first block Jade let out a sigh of relief.
OK, that wasn't so bad, she thought. It's just…different here. Not all that scary. OK, maybe a little scary.
She turned towards the intersecting street, taking one last look at her car behind her before heading down the block. There, she saw more homeless men, along with a few women here and there, all of them living in the sort of squalor that she'd never before seen up close and personal like this. The men and women in their grubby clothes were gathered for warmth under all sorts of make-shift shelters. Jade couldn't help but be touched by the desperate situations that these people lived in. For a girl like her who'd never once had to worry about where her next meal was going to come from, it struck her in the core of her being.
But she kept her steps brisk and quick; Jade realized that most of the people here were just people with rough lives trying to make it through the night, but she knew that her luck could change at any moment. Once she reached the next block she turned to her right and decided to make a long circle that would eventually lead her back to her car. During her walk, she passed more homeless, some children among them.
After another block or two, the still silence of the air was interrupted by the chatter of several men. Jade looked ahead and saw that a group of men was gathered in the middle of the street ahead. A quick look revealed that they were all mostly young men, all filled with the sort of tense energy that she noticed in younger guys who looked like they were up to no good.
This looks like some shit that I absolutely do not want to get involved in, she thought to herself.
Looking around, she spotted a dumpster nearby. Hiding behind it, she watched the men argue with one another.
"I'm telling you, man," said one, a tall, skinny guy in red and white sports clothes. "This is some bullshit."
"How is it some bullshit?" one of the other men said. "This is the fuckin' deal that we agreed to. And now you're the one backing off at the last goddamn second."
"Well, when you said six I figured that'd mean there'd be some, you know, wiggle room."
The second man turned around in frustration, looking back at the group of men behind him. Jade watched with fascination the gangs argue. She knew that she should've turned and run as far away from the scene as possible, but she couldn't help but watch. Jade was drawn in with morbid fascination.
"'Wiggle room'," said the second man, his voice heavy with disbelief. "This motherfucker's talking about goddamn ‘wiggle room'. No, you stupid shit- when we agreed to a price, stupid fucking me figured that was the money you'd be coming here with."
"Ain't you ever haggled before?" said the first man. "That's how this shit works. You give me a number, and I give you a new one. Then we come to, you know, a mutually agreeable price."
Jade looked around at the rest of the street. She couldn't believe that an argument like this was happening right out in the open like this. But aside from the gang members and the smattering of homeless, she didn't see anyone else, let alone police officers. The apartment buildings on both sides of her seemed to be abandoned; if anyone lived there, she certainly couldn't see any sign of them.
"OK, I'm willing to look past this fucking bullshit if you just pay me what we agreed for the shit," said the second man. "I don't feel like fucking around in the middle of the street on a Saturday night so we can haggle prices, my man."
"Uh…" said the first man.
"What the fuck you mean, ‘uh'? You got the money or what?"
"I got four," he said.
"Four?" shouted the second man. "You dragged me all the fucking way out here to waste my time with some ‘four' bullshit? My man, what the fuck did you think was gonna happen when you showed up here thinking I was gonna give you a fucking half-off discount? Are you out of your damn mind?"
Jade's head began to race. She glanced around again and saw that none of the homeless were reacting in any way to what was going on. Jade realized that this potential fight right in the middle of the street was probably nothing out of the ordinary for any of them.
"I figured that six was a starting point, and that we'd work from there. Have you ever made a deal before, dude?"
Jade was pretty far away from the scene, but she could see that the second man was getting more pissed off by the minute.
"Look at this motherfucker asking me if I've ever made a goddamn deal before. Bitch, do you know who the fuck you're talking to? I'm the man who owns this block, and that block, and the block after that, and the block after that. Your ass is lucky that I'm even here in person to take your fuckin' money."
"Come on, man," said the other man. "I got deals lined up for that shit. How was I supposed to know that you weren't gonna budge on the price?"
The other man scoffed. "You know you're fucked when you're saying ‘come on, man' during the middle of a deal. So, I'm changing the terms- you give me six now, or I put a fucking bullet right in your goddamn brain. How's that sound for a deal?"
"But," said the other man, "I don't have six. I only got four!"
The second man pulled out a small object and pointed it at the other man.
Holy shit, thought Jade, is that a gun? That's a goddamn gun!
Her heart pounded harder than it ever had before.
What if they see me? she thought. They'll kill me for sure!
"Then you'd better start askin' your fuckin' buddies for a spot. ‘Cause I'm starting to get real impatient."
The man walked forward until the gun was only inches away from the other man's head.
"Whoa, whoa," came a voice that Jade hadn't yet heard. "Let's take it down a fucking notch."
Jade scanned the crowd of men for just who among them has spoken.
"No need to be pulling out fuckin' guns over two k," the voice spoke.
It was a calm, low voice, one that struck Jade as almost hypnotic. Moving her glance from man to man, she finally settled her gaze on who was speaking. The man was tall and well-built, with a head of dark blonde hair and eyes so blue that Jade could clearly make out the color from where she was hidden. He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans, black sneakers and a fitted gray t-shirt that clung to his body tight enough to hint at the muscular body underneath. Though Jade couldn't make out the precise features of his face, she could see enough to tell that he was a looker, to put it mildly.
Goddamn, she thought. He's fucking gorgeous.
Jade knew that she should've been more prudent about not being spotted, but she couldn't help but poke her head out from behind her hiding spot in hopes of getting a better glimpse at this new man.
"Fuckin hell, Leon," said the second man, the gun still trained on the first. "You're not the goddamn boss here; I got this shit handled."
"I agree with him," said the first man, his voice quavering.
"Ain't no one ask you a goddamn thing, motherfucker," said the second man taking another step closer to the other and pressing the gun against his head.
"Rusty's a good guy, Anton," said Leon. "I can vouch for him. And you wouldn't be here if he didn't have a reputation."
"No shit," said Anton. "I'm only here cause this fool's got a rep."
"Then I'm sure he just wasn't familiar with how you do business," said Leon. "Perfectly understandable that he'd think you'd be haggling if that's what he's used to."
"T-that's right," said Rusty, his eyes locked on the gun. "Just what I'm used to."
"And, if I know my bargaining idiots, I bet he's got the two k on him."
"Man, Leon," said Rusty. "You're givin' away the game just like that, huh?"
Leon shook his head. "If you think that having a gun pressed to your fuckin' head means you're in any kind of a position to bargain, then maybe you're too goddamn stupid to live."
"My man Leon speakin' the truth?" said Anton. "You got the cash on you now?"
Rusty sighed. "Yeah, I got it. Six K."
He turned to a man behind him.
"Pay the man."
One
of Rusty's men pulled out another small brown bag and withdrew a tight roll of bills. He handed it towards Anton, who quickly snatched the money from his hand.
"See? Was that so fuckin' hard? Goddamn, you fools think this is some Turkish bazaar or some shit; just pay the dealer what he says, that's how this shit works."
Jade breathed a sigh of relief once it appeared that a gunfight wasn't going to happen right in the middle of the street, only a few dozen feet from where she hid. Taking another peek, she watched as the first man took a bag from one of the second man's associates and peered inside.
"What the fuck man, you think I'd stiff you on that shit?" said Anton. "It's all there."
"Just force of habit, friend," said Rusty. "When you deal with the street trash for as long as I have, you get a little suspicious about these things, you know?"
"That ‘trash' you're talking about are my people," said Anton. "Might want to watch what you say if you wanna keep doing business here, ‘friend'."
Leon approached Anton and placed his hand on his shoulder with a firm clap, as if to signal to him that the time for tensions to be raised was over.
"Let's get the fuck out of here, Anton," said Leon. "We got more deals to do tonight; can't afford to be fucking around with every last one of them."
"Yeah, yeah," said Anton.
Wow, thought Jade, watching Leon take control of the situation yet again. Who's really in charge here?
She then turned around, checking to see if the coast was clear for her to make a break for it. But as she turned around, her elbow bumped against a stack of boxes full of garbage. The stack wobbled for a moment before toppling over in a loud crash. Jade stared at the boxes with wide eyes for a long moment, her heart pounding once again.
Then, moments later, she heard the last words that she wanted to hear from the gang members.
"Hey, what the fuck was that?”
Chapter Two
Leon Sebastian held fast for a brief moment, holding his hand up in the air towards the rest of the men at the scene. The loud crash came from just behind a dumpster down the road.
"Oh, fuck no," said Anton Dupree, Leon's boss in the gang, as he pulled out his gun and prepared to storm off in the direction of the noise. "Some motherfucker's listening in on us; I fuckin' knew that this was a bad goddamn spot for a deal!"
"Hold up," said Leon. "Nothing but bums around here; probably just one of them."
"I don't give a fuck," said Anton, his mouth in a snarl. "I want to see this shit for myself."
"Let me take care of it," said Leon, knowing that Anton marching over there with a paranoid attitude and a loaded gun was just the thing to make this nearly-done deal go sideways in a hurry. "Rusty, I think we're done here; why don't you and your boys take off."
"Sounds good, man," said Rusty, relief in his voice.
With that, he turned to his men and gave them a nod.
"Uh, good doing business with you," he said before hurrying off.
Leon's eyes remained fixed on the dumpster. He knew that Anton was likely being paranoid as usual, but that didn't mean that there might not've been trouble lurking around.
Then, a head popped out from the behind the dumpster.
It was a woman.
"Fuck!" said Anton. "I told you it was someone spying on us!"
"You guys just get the hell out of there," said Leon. "I'll take care of this. Just looks like some chick."
"Fine, fine," said Anton. "But if that's the fuckin' cops or something, don't come cryin' to me when you need your ass bailed out."
"I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who's ever had to bail you out, my man."
Anton chuckled. "First time for everything."
Leon didn't respond. Taking off in a sprint, he rushed towards the dumpster. And right as he did, the woman hiding behind it rose up and glanced at him for a brief moment. Despite the circumstances, Leon couldn't help but notice how stunning she was. Dark hair, a slim body, forest-green eyes- her beauty was a stark contrast to the urban wasteland that surrounded them.
She took off in a hurry, sprinting down the block at a lightning-quick pace.
"Hey!" shouted Leon, trying to get her attention.
The girl was too quick for him, however, and as she ran he noticed the sweatshirt that she wore- it was for the same school that he went to. He realized that she was likely some naïve college girl who went to the wrong part of town looking to score some drugs.
The girl turned the corner and Leon continued after her. He could hear her fearful pants as she ran, and as she hurried down the road Leon realized that she wasn't anything to worry about. Once he turned the corner and was away from the eyes of Anton and the rest of the gang, he stopped in his tracks. The girl continued to run, eventually reaching a parked car that Leon recognized as expensive and late-model.
Stupid rich college girl, he thought. Hopefully, you've learned your lesson.
Leon caught his breath as the girl got into her car.
"What's the fuckin' word, man?" asked Anton.
"Dumb co-ed wandered into the wrong part of town."
"Co-ed, huh?" asked Anton, a sly grin appearing on his face. "You shoulda got her to come by and introduce herself; I'd make her feel real welcome to the hood."
A strange, protective urge came over Leon that surprised him.
"Keep it in your pants, Anton," said Leon.
"Just sayin'," said Anton, "can't be all business and no pleasure."
The rest of the crew chuckled amongst themselves. Leon couldn't explain why, but for some reason the boys acting this way about the girl caused an odd welling of anger to form in the pit of his stomach.
But before Anton could say another word, his phone vibrated in his pocket. Slipping it out, he saw that it was a text from his father.
Where the hell are you? Quit fucking around with your goddamn hoodlum friends and get back home. Your mother's in one of her fucking moods again.
Anton sighed, knowing exactly what this meant: his mother's "mood" was likely just her reacting to his father's drunken aggression. He knew that he needed to get back if he was going to make sure that this situation didn't end up with his mother sporting a new black eye or one of the neighbors calling the police.
"OK, I gotta peace outta here," said Leon, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "See you boys later."
"Take care, my man," said Anton.
Leon and the rest of the guys exchanged their handshakes and soon after Leon was off. He rushed down the street to here he'd parked his motorcycle and hopped on. Moments later he was tearing down the road, hoping to beat the traffic and get back home before his father did anything stupid. Leon knew that his drunkard father rarely went further than giving Leon's mother a rough shake, but that didn't mean his father would never cross a line that he couldn't come back from. Not to mention the fact that Hunter, Leon's eight-year-old brother, was likely around to witness all the domestic chaos.
After ten minutes or so, Leon pulled up to the run-down ranch home in the lower-class neighborhood where he and his family lived. He parked behind the rusted Oldsmobile that his father drove, and walked across the patchy, ill-kept lawn. Once he approached the front door, he could hear the muffled sounds of fighting between his mother and father. He sighed, knowing that, once again, he was about to come home to another alcohol-fueled tirade courtesy of, Rick, his father. Shaking his head, he opened the door.
"-and I swear to God, if I catch you texting those motherfuckers from that goddamn job of yours one more time, you don't wanna know what I'll fuckin' do!"
Leon could tell right away that the slur to his father's booming voice was on account no less than a half a bottle of whiskey. Sure enough, on the cheap coffee table in the living room, which was before a muted TV, was a half-finished bottle of Evan Williams. Leon checked his phone and saw that it was a little after seven. He realized wryly that "only" a half a bottle by this point in the day wasn't too bad.
Hopefully, he thought, he'll pass
out on the couch before heading out to the bar and getting even more obliterated.
"I told you," said his mother, "those ‘fuckers' from work are my coworkers, and we text to swap shifts!"
"I don't give a good goddamn why you're messaging them, I don't want no men texting my fuckin' wife behind my back. I swear to God, it was a mistake letting you have your own phone."
Bracing himself for a conflict, Leon stepped into the kitchen where his father and mother were currently fighting. What he saw when he entered was a typical sight: his father, clearly drunk, stood leaning against one of the kitchen counters, his bulky body unsteady on his feet, his eyes glazed over with just a glint of anger behind them. Janelle, his mother, stood on the other side of the kitchen, her body in a defensive posture, her skinny arms crossed over her rail-thin body, her blonde hair messy around her face.
As soon as Leon entered, the eyes of his parents snapped onto him.
"Well," said Rick, "if it isn't fuckin' college boy."
"Dad," said Leon, raising his palm slightly. "Why don't you cool it for a little while- maybe watch some TV or something? No need to get pissed off over nothing."
"'Go watch some TV,' he says," said his father, scoffing. "You think that's all anyone like me ever does, huh? Anyone who doesn't spend his time with his nose stuffed in a book like some little queer must just sit around on his ass all day watching TV. Is that it?"
Leon opened his mouth to speak, and realized that he couldn't find any point of that to argue with. His father, when he wasn't working his ten or so hours a week at the lumber yard, spent most of his time at some level of drunkenness, alternating between watching TV and storming around in a tirade.
"Don't you give him shit for trying to better himself," said Leon's mother. "Maybe he wants to do a little more with his life than sit around on his ass all day drinking cheap whiskey!"
Oh God, said Leon, knowing that this wasn't going to help matters one bit.
"The fuck you say to me, bitch?" demanded Rick, stomping over to where Janelle stood. "I work hard to pay for this goddamn house and everything in it."
