Kyrie Maddox #2
“You don’t know what the fuck you talking about.”
The words came out hard, but even I could hear the hollowness in them.
“Don’t I?” His finger shifted on the trigger. “That’s the difference between you and me. When I want something, I go get it for real. I don’t gotta pay for it. Don’t gotta fake it. And when somebody disrespects me—”
The gun went off.
The sound cracked through the air so loud it felt like it split the whole night open.
I felt the bullet hit before my mind caught up. A brutal force slammed into my left shoulder and spun me halfway around. My legs buckled, and my hand flew to the wound on instinct.
Hot and wet.
Pain tore through me so violently it felt like somebody had driven fire straight through my flesh.
I hit the driveway hard, knees slamming against concrete, the world tipping sideways. For a second, all I could do was breathe around it. Or try to.
“Fuck,” I gasped.
Jamal’s footsteps came closer.
“That’s what you get.” His voice sounded far away, like it was echoing at the end of a tunnel. “That’s what you fucking get.”
I forced my eyes open and looked up at him. He was standing over me, chest heaving, gun still in his hand.
“Do it then. If you gon’ do it, do it.” I looked up at him.
But he didn’t. He just stood there, breathing hard, his hand trembling.
Then, he turned and ran.
I heard the car door slam. The engine roared. Tires screeched as he peeled out.
Then silence. Just me. Bleeding in my own driveway.
The pain got worse by the second, spreading hot and fast through my whole body. Blood soaked through my shirt, thick and sticky. My left arm was dead weight hanging at my side.
“Move. You gotta move.”
I tried to push up with my right arm, but the second I shifted, fresh agony ripped through my shoulder and dropped me right back down.
My phone was still in the car. The car sat only a few feet away, the driver’s door open. Might as well have been miles.
I started crawling. Dragging myself across the driveway with one arm while my legs barely did shit to help. Every inch felt like hell.
Get to the phone. Call for help. Don’t pass out. That’s what I told myself.
I made it to the car and grabbed at the seat with my right hand, fingers slick with blood. My grip nearly slipped, but I forced myself up enough to look inside.
The phone was right there. I snatched it, almost dropping it twice before I managed to hold it steady in my hand. My vision started blurring at the edges.
Call 911. That’s what I should’ve done. But my thumb moved on its own, pulling up Sianni’s name from my recent and hitting call.
It rang.
“Please. Please pick up.”
“Kyrie?” Her voice hit my ear, and the relief that washed through me damn near made me fold right there. “Oh, my God, I’ve been trying to call you. Where have you been? I need to—”
“Sianni.” My voice came out rough and thin. “I need you to come home.”
There was a pause, then panic.
“What? Kyrie, what’s wrong? You sound—”
“I’ve been shot.”
There was silence on the other end before she responded.
“What?” Her voice jumped so high it cracked. “What you mean you been shot? Where are you? Are you—oh my God. Kyrie, where are you?”
“Home,” I forced out. “Driveway. Jamal… it was Jamal.”
“I’m finna call 911,” she said, her voice shaking.
“Just come.” My head tipped back against the car. “Please. Just come.”
I ain’t want strangers, I ain’t want cops, and I ain’t want questions. I just wanted her.
“I’m five minutes away,” she said quickly. “Five minutes, baby. Hold on for me, okay? Can you do that?”
“Yeah.” My eyes started drifting. “Yeah, I got it.”
“No. Don’t do that.” Her voice sharpened. “Don’t close your eyes. Stay with me. Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”
I swallowed hard, trying to piece it together through the pain. “Practice… beat his ass… he followed me home…”
“Okay. Okay, you’re gonna be fine. You hear me? You’re gonna be fine.”
I wanted to believe her. Wanted to hold onto the way her voice wrapped around me, urgent and scared and there.
But I was getting real tired.
“Kyrie?” she called, louder now. “Kyrie, you still there?”
“Still here.”
“I’m turning on our street right now. I can see the house. I’m almost there.”
A second later, I heard her car before I saw it. Engine loud. Brakes screaming. Door flying open.
Then, there she was. Sianni came running toward me, fear all over her.
“Oh, my God.”
She dropped to her knees beside me, hands landing on me quickly but carefully, checking the wound, pressing down to slow the bleeding. Pain shot through me, and I hissed.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she rushed out, tears spilling down her cheeks. “I have to stop the bleeding. We have to—”
“It’s okay.” My voice was barely there. “You here. It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not okay.” She shook her head hard, already digging for her phone with trembling fingers. “You been shot. This is not okay.”
She called 911, her voice breaking while she gave them the address, stumbling through the details, crying too hard to hide it.
When she hung up, she looked down at me, and that look on her face did something ugly to my chest.
Like she really cared. Like this wasn’t fake for her either.
“They’re coming,” she whispered. “They’re coming, and you’re gonna be okay. You have to be okay.”
“Sianni—”
“No.” Tears kept falling while she shook her head. “Don’t you dare say nothing crazy to me. Don’t do that. You not dying. You hear me? You not dying.”
I tried to smile, but it pulled wrong from the pain. “Wasn’t saying goodbye.”
Her mouth trembled. “Then what?”
I looked at her, really looked at her.
At the tears on her cheeks. At the fear in her eyes. At the way her hands wouldn’t stop shaking while she tried to hold me together.
“Was gon’ say I’m glad you here.”
Her whole face folded, and she leaned down ’til her forehead pressed against mine.
“I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m right here. I’m not going nowhere.”
The darkness started creeping in around the edges of my vision, thicker now. The pain was still there, but it felt farther away, like it belonged to somebody else.
“Stay with me,” she begged, voice cracking right against my skin. “Please, Kyrie. Stay with me.”
I wanted to. God, I wanted to, but my eyes got heavier.
“Kyrie!”
Her voice was the last thing I heard before everything went black. And then there was nothing.