Chapter 2
two
“Little Milla,” a sinister croon came from the small kitchenette table where Aunt J was scrolling on her phone.
Kamilla curled her lip at the voice, not wanting to be triggered further than she already was.
With the bag of food in her grasp, she closed the door, and her ears trailed the sound of the engine along with the beat she’d heard on a loop moving further way.
A soft sigh fell from her lips and her eyes cut to her aunt.
“Where you been? I’ve been home for like four hours now,” Aunt J spoke, barely lifting her eyes to her niece.
Kamilla wore the stress of the day on her face. The head full of combination 4a and 4b curls were flattened and misshapen, thanks to her nerves getting the best of her. Aunt J’s eyes squinted, giving her a more in-depth examination.
“Tell me you ain’t fuckin’ with one of these Crimson Kings,” she scoffed, making Kamilla’s lip curl and a look of detest fall over her face. Evident irritation over this play-cousin that always seemed to find himself in her space.
“What the fuck is wrong with us? CKs run this block,” Martez replied, as if he held weight.
Kamilla rolled her eyes and traipsed to the living room to take her spot back on the floor and settle her stomach’s rumbling.
“She don’t need to be fuckin’ with niggas like you,” Aunt J shot back.
“Opposed to her momma fuckin’ with those Azul Hearts? How that turn out for her?” Martez snipped.
“When it comes to my mother, shut the hell up,” Kamilla commented, unwrapping her taco.
The feud with her and Martez would never die, not as long as he had breath in his body.
There was something about his beady eyes that lingered on her too long, the way he spoke, and the way he seemed to suck everyone in her family dry before he found himself mixed up in some bullshit that really irked her nerves.
More than his manipulative ways, there was something she couldn’t put her finger on.
Aunt J and her mother may have gone out their way to make sure he was good, but she wasn’t buying the game he ran on them effortlessly.
Kamilla watched her mother take from bills to bail him out of whatever bullshit he found himself in before he ran away. Months later, when everything died down, he’d pop back up. All in the name of being her late-uncle’s play-son. Trauma bonding with a leech was something she’d never subscribe to.
“Oh, you got some bite to the bark now,” he spoke with a wry laugh. “I like that.”
Kamilla rolled her tired eyes and focused her attention on the cuatro combo.
Two shredded chicken tacos and two beef tacos with everything on them.
A side of pico and queso, and a strawberry spritz to wash it down.
Though C4 didn’t give her the courtesy of objecting, somehow, she wasn’t upset about this order.
“Leave her alone, Tez,” Aunt J spoke up, watching him stand to his feet.
“I’ll hit you up,” Martez directed toward Aunt J before walking past Kamilla and pausing momentarily. “Any of these niggas fuck with you, tell them your cousin is Big Tez.”
Kamilla’s frown deepened. She didn’t offer a response, any longer engagement with him would make her sick.
Getting the hint for now, he strolled out the house like he was providing anything under this roof.
Aunt J stood from her spot at the table and secured the door behind him.
She took a seat near her niece and sparked the blunt Kamilla could only assume she got from Martez.
After a slow pull filling the space with the crackle of the rolling paper and bud, a slow release followed.
“I heard that car that dropped you off. Peeped the back of it when it pulled off too. You know where you are?” Aunt J questioned, smoke oozing out her mouth with every word.
Kamilla didn’t make direct eye contact with her. “If I could’ve gotten around it, I would’ve.”
“Fuck does that mean?” Aunt J posed.
“It means that I left here five hours ago to go get snacks from the corner store that just happened to be held up when I grabbed my soda. And then I was held at gunpoint. And then I passed out. So… I know exactly where I am. Hell. I’m in hell,” Kamilla replied.
“Gunpoint?!” Aunt J screeched.
“Yeah, by Crimson Kings. And C4 or whatever his name is, saved me, I guess. I really don’t know. I know I’m not leaving this house again. I’ll just starve. Life wasn’t that bad when I was wasting away,” Kamilla muttered the last part.
“Shit, your mother is going to haunt me. I swear,” Aunt J blew, rubbing her forehead. “First things first, stay away from C4. That boy is crazy and is probably the only Vulture that can move around L.O. without issue. Second, you’re going to have to leave the house.”
Kamilla was now peering at her. “Why would I have to leave? I can stay in here for the next two months.”
“This guy I see from time to time owns all the Loco’s Taco and there’s a position waiting on you,” Aunt J shared. “You start tomorrow.”
“Just like that, no interview or anything?”
Aunt J swayed her head. “It’s a favor. I do shit for him; he does shit for me. Remember that when you start fuckin’ with these niggas. It’s an exchange. If you’re giving the pussy away for free, you’re stupid.”
Kamilla, mid-chew, shook her head. “Least of everyone’s worries. I start OSU soon. I’m not trying to do anything with anyone around here.”
Aunt J scoffed. “I hear you. This place has a way of changing your plans. Anyway, you start tomorrow, be on time and stack your money. You only have enough money for one and a half semesters. Apparently, whatever company your mother got her life insurance through only pays out half when it’s a suicide. ”
The brashness caused Kamilla to lose the rest of her appetite. “Yeah, ‘cause God forbid someone actually suffer from depression.”
Kamilla pushed herself to her feet and trekked to the trash can to dump her food. “Is Martez staying here?”
“Nah, he just brings me my bud. Why, he do something to you?” Aunt J asked.
The fact she had to ask only added to the long list of reasons why Kamilla couldn’t stand him. She shook her head. “No, I’d just rather not be around him.”
“He’s your cousin,” Aunt J said, as if being “family” even meant anything.
“Mom was your sister and-”
Aunt J’s brow popped up. “And what?”
“Ugh, nothing,” Kamilla huffed.
“Yeah, you don’t know the ins and outs of me and your mother.
And for the sake of not adding anymore trauma to your fragile ass, I won’t tell you,” Aunt J spoke to her back as Kamilla roamed down to her small room.
“And keep your young ass away from C4, and anyone else with a flag hanging out their back pocket. These niggas will ruin your life.”
Kamilla closed her creaky door and pushed out a grunt of frustration. “Yeah, I know.”
Removing the shirt from her body, she caught a whiff of the lingering spicy cologne and faint aroma of the Azul Kush. “I can’t wait to get out of here.”