Chapter 2
Jasmine
“Baby, I have to go inside.”
I tried opening the car door to get out, but it was pointless with the way Trey was acting.
This nigga was pulling me back by my belt loops, physically trying to restrain me to stay in the car.
He always had to control my every move like we were married.
Sometimes I liked the controlling shit and other times I didn’t.
Shit, when I think about it, I only liked him telling me what to do in the bedroom.
Anywhere outside of there just made it feel like he was treating me like a child.
“So, you’re really not going to stay out here and give me some head, Jas? Just a little sample of what is supposed to belong to me?”
“Belong to you? Trey, what about your baby mama that I had to beat up at Foxy’s just a couple of weeks ago? Let’s talk about that!”
“Here the fuck you go again with that shit Jas. Damn.”
Trey rubbed his hand over the waves that flooded the top of his head.
Trey was brown skinned, averaged height, and he was slanging dope throughout Brooklyn in areas that didn’t belong to my brother or Hov.
Since they backed off the drug game, that opened up a lot of the streets to niggas who were scared to sell back in the day.
With them out and the entire Quatar family dead, niggas were making money who never had money before.
I met Trey a few months ago outside of a bodega, of all places.
I was sucking down a Fanta strawberry when he asked for some, and I told his ass to go inside and get his own.
He insisted on having mine because he said he would much rather drink out of a bottle my lips had touched.
His approach was corny, but he was cute, so I stood there talking to him longer than I probably should have.
He convinced me to go out on a date with him that next weekend, and the date was a section at a club, but it was fun.
We enjoyed ourselves, and I gave it up to that nigga the same night.
Ever since then, I’d been forced to deal with toxicity because of the perks of dating him.
Hoeing obviously wasn’t working for me, and I refuse to not have a man at all by the time I’m my mother’s age.
If my brother can settle down, then so can I.
That's why having a half of a man was better to me than having no man at all.
“See what I’m saying. You're always telling me what to do, Trey, but you can’t even explain to me why your baby mama is so fuckin pressed about you, still!”
“Look, don’t bring that up anymore, Jasmine. That shit is old now, and I’m starting to think you don’t want to move on. You say you whooped her ass, but you acting like you lost the fight or some shit. Only bitches who lose be so pressed.”
I wanted to smack this nigga upside his shit.
I have put my hands on a few bitches, but I’ve slapped so many niggas I can’t even count.
The only man I never put my hands on was Hov back when we were sneaking and creeping.
I feel like had I slapped that nigga, my body would've been slapping against a cold morgue table.
Some men you can touch, and some you just know not to.
“I tell you what, your bad built baby mama better be glad my brother wasn’t at the club that night because he would’ve shot her in her head for talking about my mama and her being blind.
That bitch funeral would’ve been last weekend, so that ass whooping I gave her will forever be on my mind because she deserved more. ”
Trey blew out smoke while shaking his head. He knew it was the fuckin truth.
I was bringing up Crewshon when I hadn’t even told him about the situation because I didn’t want to hear his mouth. After all, he had constantly told me to stay out of the clubs now, especially since he wasn’t on the scene to protect me anymore.
“Fuck all that irrelevant shit, are you not going to do that for me? You know I may have to turn myself in for a couple of months in a few weeks after I see the judge, so I’m trying to get all the pussy I can get, while I can.”
“Trey, we will get to that soon enough, but I really need to get inside this party. My son came up here with my mama, and I don’t want to miss any more of my niece’s party. You know she’s my heart.”
“Yeah, I know,” he leaned against the driver’s door like he had an attitude.
“Why are you acting like we didn’t fuck all last night and this morning. I got a babysitter to come spend time with you last night.”
“And, you act like you hadn’t been depriving a nigga of affection the past couple of weeks. Then you wonder why I still end up back at Olivia's spot from time to time.” He mumbled under his breath.
That shit pissed me off, and I pushed him upside his head, knocking him into the window.
“What the fuck, Jas! Why do you do that shit?” He held the side of his head.
“Because you are always bringing up that nest hair ass bitch to me, and I’m sick of it.”
“So, you don’t bring up your baby daddy to me? Reggie this, Reggie that. Fuck ass nigga name stay in my ear.” He tore up his face while mocking my voice.
“I may talk about Reggie because of my son Trey, but I don’t bring up fucking him! That’s the type of shit you do. But whatever, Trey. I’m about to grab my gifts and get the fuck away from your disrespectful ass!”
I opened the car door and slammed it before walking to the back side of the car. When I reached to pull the door handle, this childish mutha fucka had locked it.
“Open the fuckin door, Trey, and let me get my shit!” He cracked the passenger window enough to talk shit over the background noises of the city.
“Fuck no. You slamming my car door like you crazy and putting your hands on a nigga. I’m taking these gifts to my daughter! Fuck you!”
“Try me and see, don’t I beat you and your baby mama ass again! Give me my niece’s shit, Trey!” I tugged on the door handle even harder as if it would open from my strength alone.
“Hell no! Suck my dick!”
He yelled, and I hawked up enough spit to shoot through that crack in his window. Some of the spit landed on his face, and that made his ass mad enough to unlock the door. Only this nigga got out of the car and charged towards me.
“Yo, your goofy ass has lost your mind!” He stormed around the car.
“Don’t fuckin spit on me!” Trey grabbed me around my neck and started to tighten his grip on it.
“Don’t forget Crew in there, you fuckin dummy!”
I clawed at his arms before he let my neck go and stepped away from me.
“There you go again. Bringing up your big brother instead of handling your own fuckin business like a woman! You called my baby mama pussy, but you way more pussy than she has ever been! You need to grow up and get off your big brother’s dick!”
“Get off your mama’s, you fuckin mama’s boy!”
“Yo, keep my mother’s name out your fuckin mouth?” He grabbed me by my arms, squeezing them and manhandling me against the car.
“Let me go, Trey! Let me go!”
We were going at it so bad that I didn’t even notice anyone walk over to us.
“What the fuck is going on?”
Trey and I both stopped wrestling to see who was talking to us.
It was a dude standing there with a black kufi on so he must be Muslim. He was wearing a gold chain around his tatted neck that looked like it was worth millions.
This has to be the dude Amir that Pernelle talked about coming to the party.
She said he would be Amira’s guest of honor, but she never mentioned how fine he was.
I mean, damn, he had dark Caramel skin, a dark beard, with soft light brown eyes sitting behind some gold Cartier frames.
He didn’t look like he was fully black, but I honestly couldn’t tell.
Maybe he was biracial, or maybe he just has pretty skin.
Either way, god damn was all I could think.
“Nigga, who are you?”
Trey asked, and Amir looked at me, ignoring Trey, who had finally let my arms go.
“You’re Jasmine, right?”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Yo, Jas, who the fuck is this? Is he one of your niggas? This is why you were in such a rush to get inside that fuckin party?”
Trey grabbed me by my arm.
“How about you watch your words and your tone when you are talking to a lady.” He turned towards Trey, finally acknowledging his presence.
“Or what nigga? Who the fuck are you to tell me shit?”
“I’m Amir, and watch your tone when you talking to me, too. Who you feeling like nigga?”
Amir stepped closer to Trey, who tried to size him up and hold his ground. Trey thought he was the hardest person on his block, so he carried himself like that with everyone.
Trey started to laugh, obnoxiously.
“Oh, Amir, Amir Quatar, the last nigga standing out of the Quatar family. Must be nice to be the only one left, but don’t make your family go completely extinct fuckin with me.”
Amir flashed a smile, but it wasn’t a happy one. His eyes closed briefly, and he bit his bottom lip as if he were trying to hold something inside of him back.
“Don’t make a threat towards me. Make a promise, little nigga. Because I damn sure will.”
“Just like you made a promise to turn opp on your own family? Yeah, I heard about you. Pussy-ass nigga with no loyalty, telling me how to treat a female. Ain’t that about a”
His last words never made it out because Amir’s fist slammed into his mouth with a crack that made my stomach twist. Spit, blood, and some of his teeth skipped across the concrete.
Trey stumbled, but Amir followed that punch, stepping into him with another punch that knocked Trey completely off his feet.
I wanted to move, stop them, yell, or do something, but my feet felt glued to the concrete.
Trey tried to stand up, but Amir drove his fist into Trey’s ribs.
The air rushed out of Trey in a broken wheeze before Amir hooked him again across the face.
When he finally stopped, Trey wasn’t fighting back anymore, just groaning, curled on his side, and Amir stepped over him, breathing steady, not even winded.
He reached into his front waistband and pulled out a gun, and my heart dropped into my stomach.
“Wait, Amir, no wait. You don’t have to do that.”
Amir glanced at me, just a quick look, before settling back on Trey.
“Take back what you said, little nigga, or you dead.”
Trey coughed, one hand clutching his side as he tried to push himself up. Blood smeared across his mouth, and he was wincing in pain, but pride still burned in his eyes, and pride in the hood is the number one reason a lot of men end up dead.
“Fuck you, nigga! When I get up, I’m about to fuck you up.”
Amir tilted his head slightly, studying him like he was deciding something.
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
“It’s whatever you want it to be pussy!”
Amir shook his head.
“Did you not just hear me say that if you don’t take back what you said, you are dying today?”
“Yeah, so what nigga!”
“Well that shit was a promise. Take a safe trip to wherever, nigga.”
Amir pulled the trigger, and the first shot cracked loud enough to make me flinch. The second came right behind it, and Trey’s body jerked, then went still, pressed against the concrete.
Gun smoke drifted between us, and my ears rang, but Amir just lowered the gun slowly, like he’d done this a hundred times before.
“What the fuck! What the fuck!” I screamed, crouching down next to Trey, bleeding out on the ground. Amir stood there for only about ten more seconds before he disappeared to God knows where.
I guess the gunshots and my loud, harrowing screams were loud enough to draw some attention towards me, and before I knew it, I was being surrounded by people filing out of the birthday party to see what happened.
I wasn’t even paying attention to the loud chatter around me until I heard my brother's voice, demanding everyone move out of his way. When I looked up, Crew was standing over me, with his hand close to his hip, ready to fuck some shit up, I’m sure, but little did he know shit had already gone bad.
He kneeled beside me.
“Jas, what the fuck happened? Who did this shit?”
My words were stuck in my throat, and I was so choked up, I couldn’t say anything.
“Y'all, back the fuck up! Somebody call the ambulance?”
Crew yelled at the people around us.
“Tell me what the fuck just happened, Jas?”
With a lowered breath, I was finally able to respond.
“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?