Twenty-Eight

It was the twins’ 29th birthday. Jamel wanted to celebrate his birthday in style, party hard like a rock star with bitches, booze, and his niggas. His attitude was, you only live once, so do it big or don’t do it at all.

Kamel, on the other hand, wasn’t interested in having a big bash. He just wanted to keep things simple by spending some quality time with his woman and the kids at home. He wanted to enjoy his birthday in peace.

Jamel went splurging, first buying a custom-made 2006 Honda CBR 600 F4i—liquid-cooled in-line 4-cylinder motorcycle. That night, he hit the club in the city, sat in VIP with his niggas and groupie bitches, popped bottles, smoked weed, and acted a fool on his birthday. He even got a blowjob in the bathroom and came on the girl’s face. It was his night, and he was having the time of his life. Ana was there too, turning things up with her big bro and drinking alcohol like it was water.

Apple strolled into the club clad in a very low cute minidress with six-inch heels. She immediately laid eyes on Jamel and Ana dancing together in the VIP section a little too close for her comfort. Ana was touching her man in a somewhat inappropriate way, her short dress riding up her thighs, almost revealing that she didn’t have on any panties. Jamel had the widest smile on his face. It was borderline incestuous to Apple’s eyes.

Their show suddenly stopped when Apple made her presence known. She cut her eyes at Ana.

Jamel smiled her way and said, “Hey, babe, glad you came.” He was obviously a bit tipsy.

“What the fuck was that?” Apple griped.

“Just having a good time with my sister. No need to fuss.”

Ana suddenly looked uncomfortable around Apple. She had a stab of guilt showing in her eyes. “He’s just tipsy,” Ana said.

Apple glared at them both.

Jamel marched her way with a champagne bottle in his hand. He tried to grab Apple inappropriately, but she resisted, backing away from him. She didn’t want to be touched by him at all.

“Don’t you owe me some birthday pussy?” he said in front of everyone.

She frowned.

Jamel had one hand grabbing his crotch and the other throwing back the champagne bottle. His goons were all laughing at his crazy antics. They all sat slouching and looking intimidating, all of them killers inside the club.

Apple paid them no never mind. Her only concern was Jamel. She had something special planned for him, but it was all going to shit.

“So what’s up, babe? We gonna fuck tonight?” Jamel said frankly. “If not, then you fuckin’ up my party.”

“Fuck you! You the same immature-ass Twin I met in Baltimore. You’s a dumb nigga, and dumb niggas don’t last long!”

“Oh, so it’s like that, huh? You gonna be a bitch on my birthday?”

Out of the blue, Jamel started dousing her with liquor, completely disrespecting her in front of his crew. She smacked him so hard, his eyes almost went spinning backwards.

Ana stood quietly to the side, not interfering with their business. Right in front of her eyes security came bumrushing through the crowd and broke the altercation up.

Fuming, Jamel shouted, “Fuck this party! I don’t need this shit!”

Security didn’t need to throw him out. He stormed out of the club and climbed onto his new motorcycle. He started the bike, revved the engine, and sped away, doing sixty mph on the city block.

He hit the FDR like a bat flying out of hell and headed north toward Harlem and the bridge. As he now did seventy mph, a car immediately cut him off and slowed, causing him to hit his brakes quickly.

A little too late veering right, he slammed head-first into the back of the vehicle and went flying into the air. He came plummeting to the ground then slid across the road and slammed into the highway divider.

He blacked out as he heard police sirens approaching.

***

Apple hurried into the emergency room and desperately searched for Jamel. She’d gotten the call an hour earlier and hurried to go see him. Getting into a serious bike accident on the FDR was a hell of a way to finish off his birthday.

Apple rushed to be by his bedside, but Ana was already there, comforting her brother, talking to him. He was in bad shape. His legs were mangled—one broken, his shoulder was dislocated, and he suffered a series of cuts and bruises. He was hurting, but he was alive.

Apple scowled. Lately, she had been noticing the way Jamel looked at Ana. Something just didn’t look or feel right. Ana was his sister, so she wondered where her insecurities were coming from.

She was still furious with him, but she still loved him, and she was always going to love him. But she couldn’t tolerate Jamel or Ana at the moment.

Instead of going to see how he was doing, Apple turned around and left the hospital. It looked like Jamel already had all the comfort and love he needed at the moment.