Chapter 3 Amethyst
Chapter three
Amethyst
“Say that shit again,” I said, mugging Quincy Kilmore.
The fact that I was discussing this with Quincy, not Grant, had me side-eyeing all this shit.
From my understanding, there was no reason for Quincy even to be having this conversation.
I didn’t do business with him. “What the fuck do you mean the debt is paid?” I shook my head, not believing the shit he was saying right now.
“Exactly what was said,” Quincy shrugged as he sat on the couch. “I paid the slips off and am letting you walk away.”
“Why?” I questioned him. I knew niggas like him; they didn’t do shit without a reason. If he was letting us walk away, it was for a reason, and it wasn’t on good faith either. He wanted something or would cash in on it later.
“Because that race was for my entertainment,” he answered with a laugh, then crossed his legs and sat back.
“Not that I owe you an explanation, especially since you didn’t win, but I’d heard about it a while back and thought, why the fuck not.
” He shrugged. “Lil bro had y’all stealing them simple ass cars, and I wanted to bring in some real money.
Don’t get me wrong, what y’all do is nice, but I wanted better.
” He dropped his leg and sat forward. “This race could’ve been that, but it wasn’t, so I’m letting the loss go.
” He smiled and shook his head. “Look, Amethyst, I appreciate all the work you’ve done for us.
You’ve made us a lot of money, and so has Yale.
Take this as an act of kindness. Your debt is cleared. ”
I ran my tongue over my teeth and continued to stare him down.
This shit sounded too good to be true, which meant it was.
Instead of going back and forth with him, I nodded and turned to walk away.
If he wanted to play this game, then we could, but I needed to get Yale out of here first. If shit went left, the last thing I needed was for her to get caught up in the crossfire.
I got back to my car, threw it in drive, and drove away. Yale sat in the passenger seat with her eyes locked on whatever she could see outside. She’d been moving funny since I got to the Kilmores’, and I needed to get to the bottom of why.
“What did he say?” Yale asked.
“Nothing.” I shook my head but didn’t take my eyes off the road. “Which means I need to talk to my people. Niggas like them just don’t let shit go.”
“Let it go, Amethyst,” she sighed.
“I can't do that,” I denied. “This shit is on me. I didn’t see the car until it was too late.”
“I should’ve seen it,” she replied. “I was the driver, that’s on me.”
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. “If I-”
“Let it go, Amethyst,” she cut me off.
“Yale-”
“I’m asking you to let it go,” she interjected. “I’m telling you to let it go because it’s not worth the fight you are going to have. If Quincy said it’s taken care of, then let it be.”
I quickly looked over at Yale to see her attention on the road in front of her. She had a cut above her right eye that was swollen and looked like it hurt. It stopped bleeding, but I knew in the morning it was going to look a million times worse.
I wanted to argue with her and let her know that this shit was far from over, but there was no reason to waste my breath. Yale needed this peace; I would let her have it, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t get to the bottom of it.
“What did you hit your head on?” I asked. When she didn’t answer me, I tapped her leg with my right hand. “Sunshine, what happened to your head?”
“I hit it on the steering wheel when I crashed,” she answered, and I nodded. “I’m good, though. It stopped bleeding a while ago.”
“You think you got a concussion?”
“No,” she answered quietly.
“You sure?” I chuckled, then playfully shook her leg. Yale was deep in thought, and I needed to know where her mind was. This shit with Grant was fucking with me, but I couldn’t move forward until I knew she was good. “Because if you do, I've got you.”
“I’m good,” she replied, then turned her attention to the window. “I just want to shower and go to bed.”
“Same,” I agreed. “I smell like sweat, burnt rubber, and something else I refuse to acknowledge.”
“Death,” Yale softly said. “We smell like death.”
I wanted to tell her she was wrong, but I couldn’t.
That wreck was bad, from my point of view.
I could see the shit, but Yale was in the car.
When she turned the corner, I knew something was wrong.
Yale was a good ass driver; she knew cars, but the way she was driving was erratic.
It was like she didn’t have control of the car and couldn’t slow down.
The black Chevy she hit came out of nowhere, and it was legit not her fault, but I knew my best friend.
She was going to blame herself no matter what.
The sound of the car flipping and then exploding would sit with her forever.
I parked in my assigned parking spot, and then we got out of the car. The walk to my apartment was quick. I lived on the first floor, and even though it was a ten-unit building, only two apartments were occupied, which I loved.
“You want me to fix you something to eat while you shower?” I asked Yale, and she shook her head. “You sure?”
“I just want to shower then sleep,” she answered as she walked through the dark apartment.
I turned on the light in the living room, then dropped onto the couch.
When I heard the shower start, I picked up my phone from the table, powered it on, and waited.
I had a million voicemails plus a million more texts from my family.
They knew I didn’t take my phone with me to shit like that because the phone could be tracked.
I wiped my hand over my mouth and called Citrine, since he was the least likely to spazz out.
“What’s good?” he answered on the second ring. “I've been trying to call you for the last two hours.”
“Shit went left,” I said, getting straight to the point. “Can you slide through?”
“Yeah, give me thirty,” he said, then hung up.
If he said he needed 30 minutes, it would take him closer to an hour.
I dropped my phone on the couch beside me and took a deep breath.
Shit was fucked up. I pushed myself up from the couch and made my way into my bedroom.
Yale stepped out of the bathroom just as I opened my dresser to grab some ball shorts.
“You use all the hot water?” I joked, and she shook her head.
I didn’t like how she was moving at all.
I closed the dresser, threw my shorts over my shoulder, and approached her.
“Sunshine, talk to me.” I lifted her chin to make her look at me, and instantly her eyes filled with tears. “Tell me how to fix it.”
“You can’t,” she sadly replied. “It’s on me, Am.”
“Nah, it ain’t,” I said, then pulled her into a hug. “I stole the car; it was on me.”
“I was the driver,” she cried. “I killed whoever was in that car.” She broke down, and all I could do was hold her. That was what was hurting her. She was hurting for the person her car hit.
I picked her up and walked over to the bed. Yale cried on my chest until she cried herself to sleep.
“I didn’t think she’d ever stop crying,” Mama softly said, standing in my doorway. I heard them come in, but I appreciated that they respected me enough not to come back here until they thought it was okay. “What happened?”
“Give me a minute,” I requested, and she nodded. I gently laid Yale in the bed, covered her with my blanket, and walked out of the room. I made sure the door was cracked open, just in case she woke up.
“You look like shit,” Pop said as I hugged him. He palmed the back of my head when I tried to move back and shook his head. “The fuck happened? Why was my daughter in there crying?”
“Long story,” I said, shaking my head. My parents and brothers treated Yale like family, even though I only called her my best friend. They knew how I felt about her and were just waiting for me to step the fuck up.
“We got time,” he said, and I nodded. He let me go, and I greeted my brothers, then dropped a kiss on Mama’s head before taking my seat. “Talk, Amethyst.”
“You heard about that wreck downtown?” I asked, looking around the room. Everybody nodded. “That was Yale.”
“What?” Mama’s face twisted in confusion. “What do you mean by that was Yale?”
“She was the driver,” I answered. “We did a run for the Kilmores.”
“Here we fucking go,” Pop sighed and dropped his head. “I told you to stop fucking with that nigga after the last run you did, Amethyst.”
“I know, Pop,” I sighed. “This was our last run. The bag was half a million apiece. It was going to give Yale a nice nest egg.” I wiped my hands over my face.
“Nigga, if you needed money, all you had to do was come to one of us,” Pop grunted. “You know that shit.”
“I wanted to make my own money, man,” I replied, looking at him. “I didn’t want to come to Pyrite, Citrine, or y’all. I wanted it to be mine. Something I earned.”
“You sound like a fucking kid instead of a grown ass man,” Pop said, shaking his head. “We got you, that shit ain’t a secret. Shit, we got Yale too if need be.”
“I know, Pop.”
“No, obviously, the fuck you don’t, Amethyst,” Pop argued. “Because if you did, you wouldn’t have gone to the fucking Kilmores of all fucking people!”
“I can’t change it, man!” I yelled as I grilled my pop. I loved my nigga, but I didn’t need his shit right now. I was already fucked up. Yale was hurting, and I couldn’t fix that shit, plus I knew that Quincy’s ass was up to something. “I fucked up, Pop, I know that, but I can’t change it.”
“Watch your tone, Am,” he warned, and I nodded. “I understand that you’re in your feelings right now, but don’t step to me like you’re grown unless you’re ready for me to forget that you’re my son.”
“I apologize,” I said, nodding.
“Now tell me what the fuck happened,” he requested.