Ahmeek sat on Bleu’s porch. The lights were off inside, so he didn’t knock. He wasn’t there for her anyway. He was there for Messiah, and he knew his routine so well that he knew he would be pulling up to her house any moment now. He had put eyes on Messiah. The news that he was behind the shooting at the dance studio told Meek he couldn’t afford not to know his every move. Messiah was unpredictable, and Ahmeek couldn’t afford to underestimate Messiah’s malice again.
He didn’t expect headlights to light up the block, because they lived by the same code—pull up without announcement always—but he heard the hum of the BMW. He recognized it from down the block because it matched his own. That’s how close they had been. Matching cars. Hood niggas, getting money together, buying foreigns together. One girl had come between all that. A girl who was worth it. Ahmeek would have liked to say he would take it all back, but he wouldn’t. What he had experienced with Morgan had been glorious. It didn’t matter to him that it had ended. Even the short time he had spent with her was worth all the discord.
Messiah parked on the curb, another Crew rule: never get blocked into a driveway. Messiah climbed out, and he strolled up the sidewalk and stopped halfway up.
“Any nigga ever surprised me got met with a bullet. Better quit playing hide-and-seek, bitch-ass nigga,” Messiah said.
Ahmeek stood from Bleu’s porch swing. “Only nigga hiding is you,” Ahmeek countered. “I ain’t ever thrown a rock and hid my hand. I paid Beans a visit.”
“Fuck Beans, and fuck you too,” Messiah said, hawking up a wad of spit and watering Bleu’s lawn.
Ahmeek came off the porch. “You want to kill me? You pull the trigger yourself. You breathe on Mo the wrong way and I’ma put you down. She get caught up in some stupid shit again because you in your feels and I’ma look you in your motherfucking face and blow your head off,” he said.
“Fuck is you talking about? Mo always been good with me.”
“That nigga Beans sent the shooters to the studio! The hitters that you paid to take care of me. Me and everybody I love? That’s the order you put down my nigga. I love her! Every nigga in this city know the shit! I done spun Mo through every block in the hood! You came for my head, and they came for hers!”
Meek was shouting. Exasperated. He was boiling, and the spit that flew from his mouth as he barked on Messiah told him he was out of control. Messiah’s face changed, just slightly. A flash of guilt bent his brow as the revelation hit him. He had almost gotten Morgan Atkins, the love of his life, killed.
The porch light illuminated the yard as the front door swung open. Bleu stood there in a long T-shirt and knee-high socks. She pushed opened the screen door and stepped out onto the porch.
“Saviour is in here asleep. Y’all gon’ wake up my whole block!” she hissed.
“My bad, Bleu. You right. It’s late,” Ahmeek said, his eyes never leaving Messiah’s. “You looking real cozy over here, boy. You sure you even worried about Mo?” Ahmeek asked, voice low as he walked past Messiah, disappearing into the night.
Aria sat in the back seat of Nahvid’s Maybach. Her head rested against the leather seats as she looked out the window. I-80 East passed her by out the window. Her chest was so tight that she could barely breathe. She felt every mile that separated her from Isa as Nahvid carried her back to D.C.
“You’ll be safer back home, Aria. Where I can see you. Where I can reach out and touch you if I need to,” Nahvid said.
Aria didn’t respond. She knew Nahvid was right, but she no longer had the desire to be right. She enjoyed the rightness in Isa’s wrong. Aria had changed since meeting Isa. She knew he was dangerous and reckless, but instead of running away from him, she gravitated toward him. His energy revitalized her. Getting a man like Isa to propose was like a miracle. He had stepped into the unknown for her, and here she was, leaving him. Her phone was nestled between her thighs, and Aria unlocked it. She clicked on Isa’s messages.
Ali, u got me stuck, no lie.
What u want me to do, Ali? I been a goon. That’s all I know how to be. I can’t change that, but I still want u.
I ain’t gon’ let shit happen to u, Ali. Come home, man.
U can’t even answer my shit? Fuck it. Wasting my fucking time.
U was never my bitch, Ali. You choosing niggas over me. Fuck u.
Aria wasn’t even offended. Isa was livid with her, and he had every right to be. The fact that she hadn’t responded once had only added fuel to his fire. Each message was more aggressive than the one before it. Her lack of communication had Isa losing his mind.
Aria was torn. Her brother had been her everything for so long. He had loved her and supported her. He had looked out for her. He had been her very first love because the man they shared relation with had been absent. In every way, he was like her father. She had never defied his wishes.
They rode in silence. Her anger and stubbornness wouldn’t even allow her to ask him to have the driver stop so she could pee. The farther away they got from Flint, the more regret settled into her bones.
“Excuse me,” Aria said to the driver. “Can you pull over?”
“You need a break?” Nahvid asked.
“I’m going back,” Aria answered. Her eyes filled with tears.
“You’re not going back. Yo, my man, keep driving,” he said.
“No, I’m not going back to D.C. with you,” she clarified. “I love you, Nah. You’re my brother, and I respect you and I trust you, but I have to follow my heart. My heart is pointing in the other direction,” she said.
“Your heart is going to get you fucking hurt. I taught you to use your head,” Nahvid said. “I’ve seen plenty of good girls lose their lives over niggas like the one you trying to run back to. He’s no good for you. You’ve got to listen to me, Aria. You’re my responsibility. Something’s going to happen to you on his watch.”
“And it’ll be worth it,” Aria said. She sounded like such a girl in love. “I’d rather die right now than live the rest of my life without him. If I get a day with him and nothing else, it’s worth it. So stop the car.”
“I’m not stopping the car,” Nahvid said without looking at her.
“Fine,” Aria said, opening the door while the driver was going eighty miles per hour. The driver swerved.
“Yo! What the fuck are you doing?” Nahvid shouted. “Close the door!”
“Let me out, Nahvid! I’m not a little-ass girl. I’m going home to my man,” Aria argued.
“If you do this, that’s it. I’m done with it. I’m not doing the sleepless nights, the back and forth coming to bail you out when the nigga go upside your head—”
“He’d never,” Aria defended.
“Until he does,” Nahvid scoffed. “You make this choice, and that’s it.”
“Then it’s been real, brother, because my heart won’t let me not love him,” Aria said, her eyes misting. Aria was betting big on Isa and calling Nahvid’s bluff, only Nahvid didn’t bluff. He said what he meant and meant what he said. If Aria got out of this car, he would be done with her. “You’re my brother. I don’t want to lose you,” Aria said as a tear slipped down her face.
“I’m not into watching people I love self-destruct, and that nigga can’t be around me. He don’t think before he act. So if you get out this car, don’t call me, Aria. I love you, but I know when to love from afar,” Nahvid said.
“You can pull over on the next exit,” Aria said. Her chin quivered, and a tear fell against her will as the driver veered off the highway. They pulled into a gas station, and Aria opened the door.
“Nah. I’m not going to let my little sister find a way across three states. You take the car, and then we’re done,” Nahvid said as he opened his door. “I’m disappointed as fuck, Aria. You’re better than this.” He pushed open the door, and Aria sobbed when it slammed closed.
“Back to Michigan, please,” she said.
She turned around in her seat, staring at Nahvid as he placed a call while she rode away. She hoped one day he would change his mind, or that she could prove that Isa wasn’t as bad as Nahvid thought.