Chapter 3 #2
She finally stopped rocking, the sound of his gentle voice pulling her from her fearful thoughts.
Her big, round expresso eyes met his, and she put her hand in his.
Rose gripped it and helped her onto her feet.
Panic engulfed Minx, and she snapped out of her daze.
Rose guided her down the sidewalk toward where he knew she lived on 5th Street.
“Why were you sitting over there like that?” He asked, falling in stride with her, their boots crunching against the snow underneath their feet.
Minx kept her eyes on the ground and gave a shrug.
She’d been mute since the day her sister was killed.
She walked home by herself now, and it was always hard passing that store, remembering what happened, and having the scar on her head to prove it.
She brought her eyes up, watching the snow tumble around them. It seemed to be getting heavier.
“We might not have school tomorrow. I heard the teachers talking, and they said a big snowstorm is heading our way. If we have a snow day, you should come outside. I got a new sled I’m gonna be riding,” Rose told her.
Minx was interested, in more things than one.
For one, Rose was very confident to be almost eleven.
Everyone else kept their distance from her.
Since she was shot, she’d been the most talked about kid in the school.
They thought she was weird. She didn’t talk, she didn’t laugh, and she didn’t even smile anymore.
Her teachers were concerned because before the shooting, Minx was the most outspoken child in the school.
She answered every question and obliged to any request.
“You don’t talk a lot, huh? I watch you at school. You’re always by yourself, even at lunch or recess. What’s up with that?” Rose queried, his brows kind of pinching above his brown eyes.
She didn’t answer, but he figured shedidn’t have anything to say. Thinking of everything she’d been through, he empathized with her, and his gaze softened.
“I know what happened with you and your sister. I was there the day it happened and found you. Sorry about Mickey. She was cool. We were in the same class. I bet it’s hard to forget sometimes. I wouldn’t want to talk about it either,” he mumbled, staring off ahead.
Minx never heard anyone sound as sad as Rose when talking to her.
Everyone was always talking to her or acting like she was going to lose her mind or fall apart.
That wasn’t the case. At nine years old now, Minx was numb.
Arriving on the sidewalk outside her house, she stared up at it with solemn eyes. Rose caught her hesitation.
“You good?” He checked with her, lifting one brow.
Minx bobbed her head but didn’t vocalize anything.
Her household hadn’t been the same since her sister died.
Her mother cried a lot when she wasn’t drinking or snorting cocaine.
Max ran the streets, heavily, and he was hardly ever at home.
Minx already learned how to cook for herself since her mother had apparently forgotten how.
She was either around the corner at the local bar or held up in her bedroom.
The door to her house opened, and Max stepped out.
Blowing the smoke from his cigarette, he observed her with Rose while standing near a pillar on the porch.
Her father was a tall man with a slim but muscular build.
He wore his hair long with waves into a slicked-back ponytail.
With skin like a latte and slanted eyes that pierced straight through people, he was a very attractive man.
Many women in the neighborhood threw it at him on a regular basis.
They all knew he was married and that Mila was a small but mighty woman who would fight anyone, but they didn’t care.
All was fair in love and war, and since Max and his wife were separated, bitches really thought they had free reign.
Little did they know, Max wasn’t worried about any of them.
He and Mila might not have been on the best terms as of right then, but he wasn’t leaving his wife or his family.
He would love that woman from the grave.
“Minx, what you doing with him?” Max inhaled his cigarette and quickly exhaled.
She didn’t answer, and he honestly didn’t even know why he asked. He hadn’t heard his baby girl’s voice in months, and he missed it.
“I was just walking her home,” Rose chimed in. “It’s real cold out here, and I thought she could use some company on the walk, that’s all.”
Max blew more smoke from his mouth and bobbed his head. He knew Rose, and he knew he fucked with his boy Finland’s son. They were some youngsters on the block, but they were both more solid than a few grown ass men that Max knew. He was aware of Rose’s home situation, and empathized with the kid.
“Just don’t get no ideas, young one,” Max warned him, keeping a stern stare aimed at Rose.
“You got it OG.” Rose held his hands up and backed away from the small metal gate as Minx let herself inside.
She climbed the steps to the porch and paused at her father’s side.
Max watched her scrutinize Rose as he walked away from their house.
Minx hadn’t responded or reacted to anything in months.
She had her ninth birthday and didn’t get excited about it.
For the first time, Max saw that she was interested in something.
He wasn’t happy that it was some little nappy-headed little nigga from around the block, but he was desperate to help Minx.
He hated how robotic she had become and wanted her back.
“How was school, Minx?” he questioned her.
She gave him the okay gesture with her hand and turned to go in the house. Rose wasn’t far when Max shouted out to him. Flicking his cigarette into the wind, he walked down the steps and met up with the boy at the fence since he had turned around.
“What’s good, OG?” He paused on the other side of the fence.
“Thanks for looking out for her. Minx has had it hard since Mickey. She’s detached and doesn’t really care about anything. I appreciate you.” He held his arm out across the gate and opened his hand for Rose to shake.
Taken back, Rose wasn’t sure what the fuck to think.
Everyone in the hood knew Max and his crew.
Notorious was around before he was even born.
He looked up to him more so than the other OGs because everyone always had historical stories about Max around the way.
He was about the gunplay and making sure his team ate.
Rose was young, so he saw himself becoming a part of the Notorious crew when he was older.
Almost like a gang, they all wore fly shit, drove nice rides, and hung out like family.
To Rose, that was all the shit he wanted for himself.
“I don’t know what it’s like to lose somebody that close. She didn’t seem like she was having a good day though. I was just—”
“Looking out.” Max looked him up and down.
“A’ight, well, you are welcome around here anytime.
Minx doesn’t go anywhere or have any friends.
She’s smart as hell and spends most of her days cooking or in her room studying something or another.
I don’t want her to get so lost that she doesn’t come back, you feel me? ”
“I think so.” Rose frowned up.
“Just keep being you,” Max assured him with a nod.
He pushed the gate open and let himself out, going the opposite way of Rose to his car parked on the street.
Rose watched him until he was pulling away.
Once Max was gone, Rose brought his eyes up to the Ward house and looked it over.
For some reason, something was tugging on his chest, and he didn’t know what the feeling was.
Max made him feel welcome, so he was pretty sure he would come across Minx again.
Present Day…
Minx fell asleep with her head against Rose’s shoulder.
The sound of his voice was so soothing to her, listening to him drift down memory lane.
A small smile covered her face while the images bounced around her head too.
Rose instantly became her best friend, and it was something that organically happened over time.
With her wet hair against his shirt, Rose brought his nose to her scalp and inhaled her scent, closing his eyes.
Examining her like a creep while she slept, he admired every blemish, even the scar above her eye.
Leaning in, Rose kissed it before letting his head sink back into the couch pillows.
With his arms around Minx, he slept better than he had in quite some time.
“Well, I tell you one damn thing, some things never fucking change.” Mila’s voice stirred them hours later.
The sun had come up, and it was late morning, damn near afternoon. Rubbing the sleep from their faces, Rose and Minx glanced at one another through sleepy eyes. The sound of her mother’s voice had Minx groaning with annoyance as she sat up beside him on the couch.
“Ma, what time is it?” Minx questioned.
“Almost noon.” Mila stood on the other side of the glass table in the center of the room.
With both hands on her wide hips, she squinted at Rose and Minx while shaking her head.
“Rose, I swear I had a flashback to twenty something years ago. How is it you always find your way into my house in the middle of the night?”
Yawning, Rose stretched his arms and legs simultaneously. “Shit, best time to come in. You know a nigga like a thief in the night,” Rose responded, sitting up on the sofa beside a still-out-of-it Minx.
Running her fingers through her wild, curly hair Minx’s face balled up in annoyance.
“Mm-hmm.” Mila’s gaze bounced from him to her daughter, and she cocked a brow at them.