Chapter 5 #2
“Anyway, Jas, if you need a shoulder to cry on, I've got you, baby. Any time you need me.”
“Thank you, Princeton, but trust, the shoulder I choose to cry on, I won’t have to bend down to do so.”
“Ahh, you got jokes, I see, but when I grow up, don’t be on my jock.”
“I won’t be, and shouldn’t you be worrying about that baby you supposedly have on the way?” He stood up from the window, shaking his head in denial with a smirk on his face.
“Yeah, nigga, your sister told me about the baby by little Vivian from Harlem. While you're over here trying to mack me.”
“Man.” He started laughing, flashing those dimples.
“My chicken head ass sister don't do shit but cluck.” I couldn’t help but laugh at his crazy ass. He reminds me of Crew at that age. Always talking shit.
“Hop yo ass in the backseat.” Crew told him.
“You sure you want to talk in front of your sister?”
“She's not going to say shit. Just get in the car.”
“Aight bet,” Princeton replied before climbing into the backseat.
The second the door shut, Crew looked up into the rearview mirror.
“So talk to me. What’s up?”
Princeton leaned forward between the seats,
“So, I was over there by the brownstones around the corner with this little female I’m dealing with, and I saw thick ass Maleka, Jasmine homegirl, talking to Troy. Did yall know that was a thing.”
I turned around in my seat so fast my neck almost hurt.
“Hold on, what?”
“Yeah,”
“I didn't know that shit for sho.” Crew squinted his eyes at me.
“Well, I saw her talking to Troy while sitting in the backseat of my bitch mama car when they thought no one was around. They asses wasn’t just talking either. That nigga kissed her and everything before he got out of her car and into his.”
His words made my stomach hurt instantly.
Me and Maleka used to tell each other everything growing up.
Every nigga, every secret, every fight, every little piece of gossip we ever had.
We were the type of friends who knew each other’s business before our own families did, so hearing something like this from Princeton instead of her made the betrayal sit weird in my chest.
“I’m sure that’s who purchased her that fuckin BMW she whipping and I know they are new because she was just going out with Josh Carter recently. He blasted her pussy pictures on Facebook about a month ago and called her his ex. Unless she hoeing with that big moose knuckle,” Princeton added.
“Wait a minute,” Crew turned towards me.
“So, if Maleka was talking to Troy, why the fuck you ain’t tell me you hooked that shit up, Jasmine? You know that nigga most likely got beef because of what happened to his brother at my baby party.”
“She never told me they were talking, and that’s on my son’s life,” My voice cracked.
“Well, if that’s the case, then you need to figure out why she's not telling you, Jasmine. We already got suspicions about that nigga and him creeping around with your homegirl put him way too close to my operation.”
“Crew, Maleka is not going to say anything about your operation. She’s not like that,” I defended her quickly. “That’s my best friend and has been my best friend for years. She is family to me.”
“You never know what a bitch might become to somebody once niggas start handing out cars and shit,” Crew glanced toward Princeton through the mirror.
“What else did you hear?”
“Shit, that’s it so far,” Princeton answered with a shrug.
Crew nodded slowly before finally glancing back toward Princeton again.
“You need anything before I leave? You need a ride home? Your mama need anything?”
“Nah, I’m straight and her ass straight too. She at home cooking spaghetti and garlic bread. I’m about to go eat that shit, lay down, and go to sleep. I’m tired as hell.”
He yawned loud as hell afterward.
“That’s that baby on the way.”
“Man, ain’t no baby wearing me down. I’m not pregnant, nigga,” Princeton laughed.
“Well, you know what the old people say. When you get somebody pregnant, you get sleepy as hell. Shit, I know I was with both my kids.”
“Anyway, I’ll holler at y’all. Safety,” Princeton said before hopping back out of the car.
The second he shut the door, Crew adjusted himself in his seat and looked over toward me.
“So, you ready to go talk to your homegirl and figure out why her talking to Troy was such a big fucking secret?”
“I’ll talk to her when I see her.”
“Nah,” Crew replied firmly. “You need to talk to her ASAP.”
I let out a frustrated sigh while leaning back against the seat.
“Crew, listen,”
“No, you listen to me,” he cut me off immediately.
“You know I don’t play around with the safety of where I lay my head.
Especially with what happened in the past with my wife and my daughter.
She showed up at my house the night RJ got hurt because I saw her walk up to my doorstep on the cameras.
You gave her my address, and that same night, one of my guards on the corner gets killed.
Shit is starting to add up in the worst way for her ass. Tell me I’m lying.”
“It could be a coincidence, and we have to give her the benefit of the doubt, Crewshon?”
“Benefit of the doubt, my ass. You're sitting here acting like I’m tripping. I’m not a fucking judge. It’s guilty until proven innocent around this muthafucka, Jasmine. You not understanding the severity of this shit,” he snapped while gripping the steering wheel tighter.
“Matter fact, let’s go holler at her right now.”
“Crew, my son is in the hospital. I need to get back there.”
“He’s going to be okay for right now. And we need to go make sure niggas not going to have us lying next to him if this nigga Troy really is plotting on us. So we pulling up on her now.”
Crew burned rubber from in front of Castle Hill projects to go to Maleka’s house. He knew exactly where she lived because growing up, he was always the one walking me over there or riding the bus with me so I could spend time with her.
When we finally pulled onto her block, her red BMW sat outside, glowing under the streetlights confirming she was here.
“Call her and tell her to come out here to talk,”
I shook my head slightly, and my fingers hesitated for a second before I pressed her name, and after a few rings, she answered.
“Hey, friend. You, okay?”
The concern in her voice sounded so genuine that it instantly made me feel bad for even pulling up over here to question her about anything. Yeah, I was upset she hadn’t told me about Troy, but at the same time, a part of me wanted to believe it wasn’t for malicious reasons.
“I’m okay, friend. I’m outside your place right now.”
“Outside my house?”
“Yeah. I see your car here. I want to talk to you about something.”
There was a brief pause.
“Oh, is it about Rj?”
“No, it’s something else.”
“Oh, okay, well, let me throw on some shorts and come outside.”
“Okay, see you in a minute.”
The phone disconnected, and silence settled back inside the car.
Crew kept staring at the building, one arm resting against the window while the other tapped slowly against the steering wheel. The whole energy inside the car felt tense now, like something bad was about to happen.
A couple of minutes later, the front door of the building finally opened, and Maleka stepped outside wearing a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt.
Her hair was thrown up in a messy bun like she had rushed out of the house.
But the second her eyes landed through the windshield, and she saw me and Crew, she froze right there on the stoop.
She wasn't looking at us like somebody who had come outside to talk. She was looking at us like she had just seen a ghost.
“Why the fuck is she just standing there?”
“I don't know.”
I rolled the window down.
“Leka, over here.”
She finally moved, taking a few slow steps off the stoop. Her eyes never left the car, though.
She took a few more steps toward us, and then something changed.
She stopped, before turning around quickly, then took off running.
“What the fuck? This bitch can’t be serious.”
Before he could get the door open, I grabbed his arm.
“I'll go get her.”
I shoved my door open and took off down the block.
Maleka already had a good lead on me because she was hauling ass.
“Maleka!” I yelled as I tried to catch up to her.
But she kept running.
And I mean really running.
The type of running people do when they feel like their life is in danger. Like I was chasing her with an actual gun.
I pushed myself harder trying to keep up, but between not eating, barely sleeping, and stressing over Rj, my body gave out on me faster than it normally would.
I leaned up against the wall near a tattoo shop, trying to catch my breath while holding onto my side because my whole body felt empty and weak. My chest was burning from running, my stomach twisting from not eating, and every deep breath I took felt like it was scraping my lungs raw.
“Yo, where the fuck she go?” Crew pulled up on the curb, demanding an answer.
“I don’t know,” I panted.
“She got away.”
“She got away? What the fuck?” he snapped. “Get in the car, Jas.”
I pushed myself off the wall and walked over slowly before climbing back into the passenger seat. The second I shut the door, Crew sped off again, ducking his head around trying to look up side streets and between parked cars.
“Crew, she's gone,” I said tiredly. “Why are you still looking for her? What do you even plan on doing?”
“What the fuck do you mean, what I plan on doing?” he shot back angrily. “I’m trying to figure out why the fuck she's running like she did something.”
“She’s running because she's scared, and I’m sure she’s somewhere hiding now,” I replied quickly.
“I know Maleka, and she's probably just in over her head with some shit. I’ll talk to her by myself and get an understanding with her, but I’m sure she won’t run back to her house right now.
I’ll find her and talk to her on my own Crew. ”
“Talk to her by yourself?” Crew repeated, laughing sarcastically.