Blood Thicker
Royce yawned and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as his car idled on what many considered the most crime-riddled street in Houma. As his eyes flicked between the rearview mirror and the various people hanging out on the porches and in the yards around him, he nodded along to the music coming from the speakers.
Anything to keep him awake and not thinking someone was creeping up alongside his door to carjack him.
The door of the house he was parked in front of opened and Reg emerged, wearing the same clothes that he was the last time Royce had seen him – four days ago. He carried a plastic bag in his hand, turning around to throw his hand up in a farewell to whoever was in the house.
Royce unlocked the doors as Reg jogged over to the car. Reg slid into the passenger seat and pulled a wrinkled box of Church’s chicken out of the bag.
“You want some?” he asked Royce, holding up the box.
Glancing at him as he put the car into the drive and pulled away from the curb, Royce shook his head. “That shit smell like dead coon. Throw that shit out the window.”
“Man, this still good,” Reg said, picking up a chicken leg and biting into it.
Royce looked down at the clock on the dashboard, which read a quarter after two in the morning, and sighed as he pulled to a stop at a red light.
“Appreciate you picking me up, though,” Reg said, wiping his fingers on his pants.
“How the fuck you got from Ashland to East Street?”
“One of my potnas picked me up and dropped me off there. He ain’t have no gas to get me cross town, though.”
Royce stayed silent for a bit, rubbing at his temple as he waited for the light to change. “You don’t get tired of this shit?” he asked, anger creeping into his voice.
“Man, the jakes popped me on some stupid shit. Talking about I was driving without a license. How I’m gonna drive without a license if I ain’t even got a car? You know they always trying to keep a brother down out here.”
Royce reached over and smacked the box of chicken out of Reg’s hands. “Nigga, you a fucking fiend. You smell like you just rolled out the Sugar Bowl after jamming needles in your veins. Ain’t nobody keeping you down but you.”
“Damn, bruh. You didn’t have to knock my food down,” Reg said, leaning over to pick up the chicken. “I be messing up, but I’m gonna do better. My boy said he can get a job on a rig if I can pass a piss test so I just gotta wait a week or two.”
“If you can pass a piss test, they’re going to let my Black ass into Harvard. But you always saying you going to do better, and I’m still picking you up from Ashland every other month like you ain’t the big brother.”
“I just need a little money coming in so I can get out Ma’s and get my own shit. I been looking at apartments on PC.”
“Them people not letting you in their shit. Stop it, bruh.”
“Rana ain’t the only one that got shit going for her. She just found some nigga to take care of her, but I can make something shake, too.”
Royce looked over at Reg. “If you want to make something shake, shake them fucking pockets for some money for the gas money I wasted driving all the way to the eastside. But you can’t even do that shit, so stop fucking talking about it.”
“You talking like I can’t do shit.”
“I don’t know. Can you, nigga? You’re a grown ass fucking man. You comparing yourself to Rana like she wasn’t doing better than you 10 years ago. You always been a fuck-up. Shit ain’t change, but your age.”
Reg shook his head. “I just need a chance. Ain’t nobody giving me one.”
“A chance?” Royce asked before abruptly pulling his car over to the side of the road, slamming the car into park. “Get the fuck out my car.”
Reg stared at him, disbelief and confusion washing over his face. “What? Man, stop playing. I’m trying to go home.”
“Get out the car or I’m going to beat your ass and drag you out the car. Either way, you’re getting out the fucking car.”
“You not ‘bout to try son me.”
Royce took the keys out of the ignition and opened the door, starting to get out of the car.
“Alright, bruh,” Reg said, snatching up his stuff and shoving the door open. “I’m gonna remember this shit.”
Royce sat back in the seat and closed his door. “Do whatever make you feel better, motherfucker.”
For a moment, Reg looked like he was going to continue to argue, but instead he just slammed the door. Royce didn’t look back as he pulled back onto the road and sped away.
~~~~~~~~~~
Royce, Romeo, Toni, Arianna and Mike-Mike sat in Arianna and Mike-Mike’s backyard, the afternoon air smelling of burning sugarcane and filled with the occasional burst of laughter. Empty beer bottles were scattered around them, the remnants of an impromptu family get-together.
Royce leaned back in his chair, a bottle of Crown Royal tucked under his arm as he watched Mike-Mike try a shot of Hennessy. The cousins laughed as the youngest among them almost threw the shot up as it burned its way down its throat.
“That’s gonna put some hair on your chest, boy,” Romeo said, clapping Mike-Mike on the back as he laughed.
“Shit’s nasty,” he said, handing the bottle back to his sister.
Arianna took a swig straight from the bottle, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “You just haven’t gotten a taste for it yet. Wait until next year when you get to Terrebonne, you gonna meet some white girl that’ll take you all up and down the bayou to parties. That’s what happened to Royce and Romeo last year.”
“Ain’t nothing. Romeo, maybe, but not me,” Royce said.
“Now, why you lying?” Romeo asked.
“It’s not lying if it’s true.”
“So, we’re all going to act like you didn’t date that girl Shelby for two months? You took her to prom and all,” Toni said as she nursed a wine cooler, having given up on keeping up with Royce, Romeo and Arianna with the harder alcohol options.
Royce shook his head. “Yeah, because she didn’t let me hit so it doesn’t count.”
“Then every girl that did let you hit you’d say you dated? Because if that’s the case, you probably damaged goods at this point,” Arianna said.
“You saying that like I’m out here wilding.”
“You are. Romeo a committed man and Mike-Mike definitely a virgin.”
Mike-Mike looked up from the beer in his hand. “How you figure? You don’t know what I be doing. Not like I’d be telling my sister if I was getting some.”
The other four all stopped talking and stared at him in silence for a few moments before bursting into laughter.
“What?” he asked. “I’m serious.”
“Because we know,” Romeo said. “You got it all over your face right now. Blushing and shit. It’s all good. One of them Tigerettes gonna get you right next year. Might be one of the fat ones, but just get your first one out of the way. Right, Ro?”
“Fuck you mean ‘right, Ro?’ Don’t put that on me. That’s all you,” Royce said.
“If you fucked some fat girls, no one’s going to judge you,” Toni said, laughing.
“Fat girls need love, too, Ro,” Arianna added.
Royce sat up in his chair to grab a can of Sprite out of the cooler in the middle of them all. “I don’t know how this went from gang-up on Mike-Mike for not knowing what pussy looks like to gang-up on Royce for being an equal opportunist. Ain’t it 2022? What happened to all that body positivity shit?”
“As if you wouldn’t be clowning us for fucking fat niggas.”
“I only clown you for fucking white boys. That shit’s just gross.”
“Now, you see,” Arianna said, throwing a beer bottle cap at Royce. “That ain’t even funny. Toni, back me up on this.”
“That’s all you. My man’s Black,” Toni said, laughing.
As the night wore on, the conversation drifted from old memories to future dreams. With four of them halfway to their senior years in high school, they joked about their future college choices and how they’d fit in in new environments.
Royce soaked it all in, forgetting about his argument with Reg earlier that morning. While his family wasn’t perfect, by any means, and neither was he, they were all he had at the end of the day.
Dying to Live
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Caesar
Topic author - Chise GOAT
- Posts: 16791
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 10:47
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Caesar
Topic author - Chise GOAT
- Posts: 16791
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 10:47
Dying to Live
Season 0 Finale dropping tomorrow at noon. Be there or be square.
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Captain Canada
- Posts: 7818
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
Dying to Live
That boy Reg in a gutter somewhere. I know your writing style.
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The JZA
- Posts: 9409
- Joined: 07 Dec 2018, 13:10
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chosenone58
- Posts: 4649
- Joined: 28 Nov 2018, 19:06
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Soapy
- Posts: 16501
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 18:42
Dying to Live
glad the two sucker ass niggas in a pod getting along now
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Caesar
Topic author - Chise GOAT
- Posts: 16791
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 10:47
Dying to Live
My Brother’s Keeper
Royce absently spun a football between his hands as he sat in the living room, his eyes fixed on the TV, but his mind not taking in what was on the screen.
Romeo walked into the room and handed him a printout. “That’s the schedule or whatever for when we go to Kentucky next month. We just gotta go to the airport to get the tickets. At least, that’s what they told me.”
Royce tucked the football under his arm as he looked over the paper. Everything looked so foreign to him, as it likely did to Romeo. Neither of them had been on a plane before and the extent of their travel out of Louisiana was limited to Houston and Biloxi, places that were within a day’s driving distance from Houma.
“They ain’t tell you they were kidding about me coming up there with you?” Royce asked, putting the paper on the end table next to him.
“They did, but we agreed to keep it from you. Kinda like a Make-a-Wish kid. They’re going to let you run out on the field and everything. Remember to bring your helmet so you don’t bump the soft spots on your head, though,” Romeo said, laughing at his own joke.
“You ain’t funny, negro.”
“On the real, though, they looking at you, too. I told them to not even bother with me coming up there if they ain’t.”
“Now, see, when you end up in Willacoochee, Georgia because you want to tell these coaches that shit and they call your bluff, don’t be whining. You know some of these schools don’t got enough dorms for all their students,” Royce said, now laughing himself.
Romeo shrugged as he walked to the kitchen to rummage through the cabinets. “Ain’t shit. It’s players getting drafted every year from them small, no-name ass schools. No problem to me if I go in the fourth round from Northsoutheastwest Alabama State Tech University.”
“Who gonna be at Northsoutheast Alabama with you?”
“You, nigga. They’re going to put you on a billboard to show they not racist because they like them big, skrong Black boys,” Romeo said, returning to the living room with two bottles of Dasani water.
“Something wrong with you, bruh.” Royce took one of the bottles from Romeo and turned it around in his hands. “When Ma started buying this shit? She know nobody in here drink no fucking Dasani. They got anything else in there?”
“No, that’s all they got. I guess it was on sale or something. You know she be looking for them deals like a motherfucker.”
Royce shook his head and put the bottle down on the coffee table along with the football. “You want to come up to the store with me? I ain’t drinking that shit. Gonna taste like I’m drinking the water straight from the bayou.”
Romeo looked at the bottle still in his hand then shrugged before going to put it back in the refrigerator. “Yeah, let’s go.”
The two of them headed for the door. Romeo gestured to Royce’s keys sitting on the coffee table next to the entrance.
“You not driving?” Romeo asked.
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I just got a little gas to tide me over until next Friday so I’m not trying to burn that up just to run up the street.”
“Well, shit. Let me grab a hoodie then because it’s cold as a bitch out there.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“Say young kings. Can y’all spare a dollar so I can get me a scratcher from up the street?”
Royce reached into his pocket and pulled out some change, dropping it into the old beggar’s hand as he and Romeo walked into the store. The man thanked him and walked in the opposite direction of the way he said he was going.
“That man ain’t going to get no scratcher,” Romeo said, laughing. “I don’t know why you always give these fiends money.”
Royce shrugged as they were greeted by the warm blast of the heater and the familiar scent of cheap cleaning products mixed with the lingering aromas of fried and boiled food. The store was empty as usual, with most of its patrons hanging out on the curb shooting dice or playing cards, only entering for a quick piss or a beer.
“They ain’t my people,” Royce said, browsing through the candy aisle. “If he wanna go buy some crack or heroin with seventy-eight cents then all the power to him. Hope it works out and he doesn’t have to suck a dick to make up the difference.”
“Sending people’s pawpaw to an early grave one handout at a time, Royce Lafitte,” Romeo said as he headed straight for the fridges in the back of the store.
“They ain’t seen their pawpaw clean since they were born. They’ll be alright,” Royce said. “Grab me a water and a blue Powerade out there.”
He grabbed a couple bags of Skittles from the shelf and headed to the front of the store. Vanessa looked up from her phone and smiled at him as he tossed the packs of candy on the counter.
“You better not be texting no other men. I really thought we had something good going on,” Royce said, leaning on the counter.
She rolled her eyes but kept smiling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We don’t have anything going on, but if we did, I’ll stop texting other men when you stop texting other women. Show some commitment if you like it so much.”
“All I do is play football and sleep. Now, go ahead and block them.”
“Boy, please,” she said, standing up and snatching up the two bags to scan. “This it?”
Royce scratched his chin and gestured down her body with his eyes. “I don’t know. What time you getting out of here?”
“Past your bedtime,” she said, laughing.
Before Royce could respond, Romeo walked up to the counter and put four drink bottles on the counter and a few bags of chips. He looked between Royce and Vanessa and shook his head before digging in his pocket to retrieve a crumpled up $5 bill. He slid it on the counter in front of Royce.
“This it,” Royce said. He reached into his pocket and added another $10 to Romeo’s $5 bill. “For now.”
Vanessa shook her head, but the playful smile remained as she checked them out. As they were gathering the bags from her, she mouthed ‘text me’ to Royce.
The two of them left the store, stepping back into the crisp, night air and the cold had seemed to have gotten colder in the ten minutes they were inside.
Royce reached into the bag for one of the packs of Skittles, ripping it open and pouring some out in his hand, shaking his hand as the two of them started back down the street.
“For all that Black Israelite shit you be on sometimes, you sure don’t discriminate about what bitches you trying to fuck,” Romeo said, laughing.
“Black Israelite? You just saying shit you heard for the first time now. I just clown you for fucking with Britni corny ass, but I ain’t no Muslim. Besides, Vanessa’s Vietnamese. America fucked up their country as much as they fucked us up. We skin folk.”
“That ain’t how that work. And you gotta stop messing with Britni, man. She always whining about that shit.”
Royce shrugged before tossing the handful of Skittles into his mouth. “Break up with her lame ass and you won’t have to hear that whining.”
Romeo was about to respond when the sound of an engine roaring to life caught their attention. Both brothers turned to see a car speeding down the street, its headlights cutting through the darkness as it approached them at a dangerous speed.
“Damn, these niggas wildin’,” Royce muttered, stepping closer to the curb as the car sped by.
But just as it quickly as it had passed, the car screeched to a halt, tires squealing against the concrete. The brothers exchanged a look of confusion as the car suddenly reversed, backing up toward them at an alarming rate.
“What the fu—” Romeo started, but his words were cut off as the car slid to a stop, barely missing them.
The driver’s side door flew open, and Jamie jumped out of the car. Jeremi got out of the passenger seat and ran around to the other side. Royce and Romeo’s playful banter moments earlier was forgotten as they came face-to-face with two pistols.
“I told you lil’ niggas that I had something for y’all,” Jamie said, his voice low and menacing. “Now, let’s see how ‘bout it y’all are.”
“You not no killer,” Royce said, mostly directed at Jeremi.
“Ro,” Romeo hissed, his hands partially raised.
Jeremi’s grip on his gun tightened as he looked at his brother. Jamie reached up with his other hand and cocked the pistol.
Without another thought, Royce acted on instinct. He swung the bag of drinks with all his strength, aiming for Jamie’s face. The bag connected with a sickening thud, and Jamie stumbled back, the gun slipping from his grasp and skipping along the concrete as he cursed in pain.
“Run!” Royce shouted, grabbing Romeo’s hoodie and pulling him along as he took off.
Romeo was right behind him, not needing to be told twice. Their feet pounded the pavement as they took off down the street. Ragged breathing came in quick, panicked gasps as adrenaline fueled them.
Behind them, Jamie’s furious shout was quickly followed by the unmistakable crack of gunfire. The first shot rang out, then another, the bullets whizzing past them, too close for comfort.
“Go! Go!” Royce yelled, his heart hammering in his chest as he pushed himself to run faster. The streets blurred around them as they weaved between cars, mailboxes, trees and anything else that would stand between them and a bullet.
More shots followed, echoing through the quiet night, but Royce didn’t look back. He could hear Jamie and Jeremi running behind them, cursing and shouting.
Royce dared to look back, legs burning, lungs screaming for air, watching as Romeo ducked between two houses to get off the street.
“Rome, no!” he shouted, but it was too late. Romeo had already disappeared into the shadows.
Royce hesitated for a split second, torn between going back to follow his brother and staying on the move, but the sound of screeching tires snapped him back to reality.
Jamie and Jeremi had made it back to the car and the engine whined as it accelerated violently. Royce cursed under his breath and forced himself to keep running, darting through yards and leaping over fences as he tried to throw them off.
The car skidded around a corner, the headlights casting long, eerie shadows as it sped down the street. Royce could hear the engine accelerating, the sound of gravel crunching under the tires growing louder as they closed in on him.
Breathing hard, Royce bolted across another street, glancing over his shoulder just in time to se the car barrel down after him, headlights blinding in the dark. Panic surged through him as he realized they were gaining.
…
Romeo’s heart pounded in his chest as he darted between the two houses, the darkness enveloping him as he slipped into the narrow alley. The sound of his brother’s voice calling out to him echoed faintly in his ears, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. The adrenaline coursing through his veins pushed him forward, his legs moving on instinct.
He could hear the distant roar of the car’s engine, the screeching tires as they tore down the street. They weren’t behind him, not directly, but the sound still sent a chill down his spine.
He cut through a backyard, hopping a low chain-link fence before landing on the other side in a crouch. He stayed low, listening for any signs of pursuit, but all he heard was the hum of the car as it sped further away, chasing Royce into the night.
He paused, catching his breath, his heart pounding violently against his chest, the usual sounds of the night drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. He had to keep moving and find Royce, but fear racked his body for a moment.
Steeling himself, he took off again, running toward the sound of the car. His chest tightened in a mix of fear and anger. The cold air burned his lungs as he pushed himself. The sound of car growing louder as he ran down a side street.
He could feel the adrenaline surging through his veins, pushing him beyond his limits as he raced toward the squeal of screeching tires. Every breath, he took sharp and ragged, but he kept going.
The flash of headlights flooding across the pavement in front of him on the next street forced him to skid to a stop. The car tore by him. He waited a few moments before running out onto the street, frantically scanning for any sign of Royce.
“Ro! Ro!” he shouted, not concerned with Jamie and Jeremi hearing him.
The rustle of a bush startled Romeo and he turned around ready to fight for his life. Royce pushed the branches out of the way, peeking down the street to make sure the car was gone before he came out from behind the bush.
“We gotta get home,” Romeo said, his voice raw and ragged.
…
Royce’s lungs burned and his heart thudded against his rib cage as he pushed through the bush, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. His eyes locked onto Romeo, who looked just as shaken, but there was no time to dwell on the fear that gripped both of them.
“We gotta get home,” Romeo said, his voice raw and ragged.
Royce nodded, his mind already racing with thoughts of how to get there without running into Jamie and Jeremi again. The streets were dangerous, every shadow a potential threat, but they had no choice. Hiding in someone’s garbage can all night wasn’t an option.
The two brothers took off running, their footsteps echoing against the pavement as they navigated the maze of darkened streets and alleyways. Royce kept glancing over his shoulder, half-expecting to see the car’s headlights bearing down on them. The cold air stung his lungs, each breath a painful reminder of how close they’d come to losing their lives.
Glancing up as they came to the street that crossed onto theirs, Royce looked back at Romeo. “We’re almost there.”
He said it to reassure himself as much as he did to reassure Romeo. The thought of safety pushed him forward, each step bringing them closer.
But as they rounded the corner on to their street, a sinking feeling settled in Royce’s gut.
The screech of tires sent a jolt of fear through him, and before he could react, the car was upon them again. The headlights cut through the darkness, blinding them as the vehicle skidded to a stop in front of them. Royce barely had time to think, to act, before Jamie and Jeremi were out of the car, guns raised.
“Run!” Royce shouted, grabbing Romeo’s arm and pulling him back, but it was too late. Jamie’s gun was already aimed, and Royce watched in horror as the first shot rang out.
Romeo’s body jerked as the bullet struck him, his eyes wide with shock and pain. Time seemed to slow as his body turned, spun by the force of the bullet or a primal instinct to escape. Blood sprang from his hoodie as bullets hit his back, his body gradually collapsing to the ground.
Royce scrambled on his hands and feet to get to his brother. Then he felt a searing pain in his side, he cried out in agony as he collapsed to the ground. His vision blurred as the pain seemed to multiply and spread throughout his body.
He tried to crawl toward his brother, but his own strength was fading fast, his breath growing rapid and shallow. He reached out, his hand trembling as he tried to touch Romeo, but the darkness was closing in around him.
“Rome,” he said, his voice coming out in a croak.
Then everything went black.
Royce absently spun a football between his hands as he sat in the living room, his eyes fixed on the TV, but his mind not taking in what was on the screen.
Romeo walked into the room and handed him a printout. “That’s the schedule or whatever for when we go to Kentucky next month. We just gotta go to the airport to get the tickets. At least, that’s what they told me.”
Royce tucked the football under his arm as he looked over the paper. Everything looked so foreign to him, as it likely did to Romeo. Neither of them had been on a plane before and the extent of their travel out of Louisiana was limited to Houston and Biloxi, places that were within a day’s driving distance from Houma.
“They ain’t tell you they were kidding about me coming up there with you?” Royce asked, putting the paper on the end table next to him.
“They did, but we agreed to keep it from you. Kinda like a Make-a-Wish kid. They’re going to let you run out on the field and everything. Remember to bring your helmet so you don’t bump the soft spots on your head, though,” Romeo said, laughing at his own joke.
“You ain’t funny, negro.”
“On the real, though, they looking at you, too. I told them to not even bother with me coming up there if they ain’t.”
“Now, see, when you end up in Willacoochee, Georgia because you want to tell these coaches that shit and they call your bluff, don’t be whining. You know some of these schools don’t got enough dorms for all their students,” Royce said, now laughing himself.
Romeo shrugged as he walked to the kitchen to rummage through the cabinets. “Ain’t shit. It’s players getting drafted every year from them small, no-name ass schools. No problem to me if I go in the fourth round from Northsoutheastwest Alabama State Tech University.”
“Who gonna be at Northsoutheast Alabama with you?”
“You, nigga. They’re going to put you on a billboard to show they not racist because they like them big, skrong Black boys,” Romeo said, returning to the living room with two bottles of Dasani water.
“Something wrong with you, bruh.” Royce took one of the bottles from Romeo and turned it around in his hands. “When Ma started buying this shit? She know nobody in here drink no fucking Dasani. They got anything else in there?”
“No, that’s all they got. I guess it was on sale or something. You know she be looking for them deals like a motherfucker.”
Royce shook his head and put the bottle down on the coffee table along with the football. “You want to come up to the store with me? I ain’t drinking that shit. Gonna taste like I’m drinking the water straight from the bayou.”
Romeo looked at the bottle still in his hand then shrugged before going to put it back in the refrigerator. “Yeah, let’s go.”
The two of them headed for the door. Romeo gestured to Royce’s keys sitting on the coffee table next to the entrance.
“You not driving?” Romeo asked.
“Nah,” he said, shaking his head. “I just got a little gas to tide me over until next Friday so I’m not trying to burn that up just to run up the street.”
“Well, shit. Let me grab a hoodie then because it’s cold as a bitch out there.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“Say young kings. Can y’all spare a dollar so I can get me a scratcher from up the street?”
Royce reached into his pocket and pulled out some change, dropping it into the old beggar’s hand as he and Romeo walked into the store. The man thanked him and walked in the opposite direction of the way he said he was going.
“That man ain’t going to get no scratcher,” Romeo said, laughing. “I don’t know why you always give these fiends money.”
Royce shrugged as they were greeted by the warm blast of the heater and the familiar scent of cheap cleaning products mixed with the lingering aromas of fried and boiled food. The store was empty as usual, with most of its patrons hanging out on the curb shooting dice or playing cards, only entering for a quick piss or a beer.
“They ain’t my people,” Royce said, browsing through the candy aisle. “If he wanna go buy some crack or heroin with seventy-eight cents then all the power to him. Hope it works out and he doesn’t have to suck a dick to make up the difference.”
“Sending people’s pawpaw to an early grave one handout at a time, Royce Lafitte,” Romeo said as he headed straight for the fridges in the back of the store.
“They ain’t seen their pawpaw clean since they were born. They’ll be alright,” Royce said. “Grab me a water and a blue Powerade out there.”
He grabbed a couple bags of Skittles from the shelf and headed to the front of the store. Vanessa looked up from her phone and smiled at him as he tossed the packs of candy on the counter.
“You better not be texting no other men. I really thought we had something good going on,” Royce said, leaning on the counter.
She rolled her eyes but kept smiling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We don’t have anything going on, but if we did, I’ll stop texting other men when you stop texting other women. Show some commitment if you like it so much.”
“All I do is play football and sleep. Now, go ahead and block them.”
“Boy, please,” she said, standing up and snatching up the two bags to scan. “This it?”
Royce scratched his chin and gestured down her body with his eyes. “I don’t know. What time you getting out of here?”
“Past your bedtime,” she said, laughing.
Before Royce could respond, Romeo walked up to the counter and put four drink bottles on the counter and a few bags of chips. He looked between Royce and Vanessa and shook his head before digging in his pocket to retrieve a crumpled up $5 bill. He slid it on the counter in front of Royce.
“This it,” Royce said. He reached into his pocket and added another $10 to Romeo’s $5 bill. “For now.”
Vanessa shook her head, but the playful smile remained as she checked them out. As they were gathering the bags from her, she mouthed ‘text me’ to Royce.
The two of them left the store, stepping back into the crisp, night air and the cold had seemed to have gotten colder in the ten minutes they were inside.
Royce reached into the bag for one of the packs of Skittles, ripping it open and pouring some out in his hand, shaking his hand as the two of them started back down the street.
“For all that Black Israelite shit you be on sometimes, you sure don’t discriminate about what bitches you trying to fuck,” Romeo said, laughing.
“Black Israelite? You just saying shit you heard for the first time now. I just clown you for fucking with Britni corny ass, but I ain’t no Muslim. Besides, Vanessa’s Vietnamese. America fucked up their country as much as they fucked us up. We skin folk.”
“That ain’t how that work. And you gotta stop messing with Britni, man. She always whining about that shit.”
Royce shrugged before tossing the handful of Skittles into his mouth. “Break up with her lame ass and you won’t have to hear that whining.”
Romeo was about to respond when the sound of an engine roaring to life caught their attention. Both brothers turned to see a car speeding down the street, its headlights cutting through the darkness as it approached them at a dangerous speed.
“Damn, these niggas wildin’,” Royce muttered, stepping closer to the curb as the car sped by.
But just as it quickly as it had passed, the car screeched to a halt, tires squealing against the concrete. The brothers exchanged a look of confusion as the car suddenly reversed, backing up toward them at an alarming rate.
“What the fu—” Romeo started, but his words were cut off as the car slid to a stop, barely missing them.
The driver’s side door flew open, and Jamie jumped out of the car. Jeremi got out of the passenger seat and ran around to the other side. Royce and Romeo’s playful banter moments earlier was forgotten as they came face-to-face with two pistols.
“I told you lil’ niggas that I had something for y’all,” Jamie said, his voice low and menacing. “Now, let’s see how ‘bout it y’all are.”
“You not no killer,” Royce said, mostly directed at Jeremi.
“Ro,” Romeo hissed, his hands partially raised.
Jeremi’s grip on his gun tightened as he looked at his brother. Jamie reached up with his other hand and cocked the pistol.
Without another thought, Royce acted on instinct. He swung the bag of drinks with all his strength, aiming for Jamie’s face. The bag connected with a sickening thud, and Jamie stumbled back, the gun slipping from his grasp and skipping along the concrete as he cursed in pain.
“Run!” Royce shouted, grabbing Romeo’s hoodie and pulling him along as he took off.
Romeo was right behind him, not needing to be told twice. Their feet pounded the pavement as they took off down the street. Ragged breathing came in quick, panicked gasps as adrenaline fueled them.
Behind them, Jamie’s furious shout was quickly followed by the unmistakable crack of gunfire. The first shot rang out, then another, the bullets whizzing past them, too close for comfort.
“Go! Go!” Royce yelled, his heart hammering in his chest as he pushed himself to run faster. The streets blurred around them as they weaved between cars, mailboxes, trees and anything else that would stand between them and a bullet.
More shots followed, echoing through the quiet night, but Royce didn’t look back. He could hear Jamie and Jeremi running behind them, cursing and shouting.
Royce dared to look back, legs burning, lungs screaming for air, watching as Romeo ducked between two houses to get off the street.
“Rome, no!” he shouted, but it was too late. Romeo had already disappeared into the shadows.
Royce hesitated for a split second, torn between going back to follow his brother and staying on the move, but the sound of screeching tires snapped him back to reality.
Jamie and Jeremi had made it back to the car and the engine whined as it accelerated violently. Royce cursed under his breath and forced himself to keep running, darting through yards and leaping over fences as he tried to throw them off.
The car skidded around a corner, the headlights casting long, eerie shadows as it sped down the street. Royce could hear the engine accelerating, the sound of gravel crunching under the tires growing louder as they closed in on him.
Breathing hard, Royce bolted across another street, glancing over his shoulder just in time to se the car barrel down after him, headlights blinding in the dark. Panic surged through him as he realized they were gaining.
…
Romeo’s heart pounded in his chest as he darted between the two houses, the darkness enveloping him as he slipped into the narrow alley. The sound of his brother’s voice calling out to him echoed faintly in his ears, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t. The adrenaline coursing through his veins pushed him forward, his legs moving on instinct.
He could hear the distant roar of the car’s engine, the screeching tires as they tore down the street. They weren’t behind him, not directly, but the sound still sent a chill down his spine.
He cut through a backyard, hopping a low chain-link fence before landing on the other side in a crouch. He stayed low, listening for any signs of pursuit, but all he heard was the hum of the car as it sped further away, chasing Royce into the night.
He paused, catching his breath, his heart pounding violently against his chest, the usual sounds of the night drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. He had to keep moving and find Royce, but fear racked his body for a moment.
Steeling himself, he took off again, running toward the sound of the car. His chest tightened in a mix of fear and anger. The cold air burned his lungs as he pushed himself. The sound of car growing louder as he ran down a side street.
He could feel the adrenaline surging through his veins, pushing him beyond his limits as he raced toward the squeal of screeching tires. Every breath, he took sharp and ragged, but he kept going.
The flash of headlights flooding across the pavement in front of him on the next street forced him to skid to a stop. The car tore by him. He waited a few moments before running out onto the street, frantically scanning for any sign of Royce.
“Ro! Ro!” he shouted, not concerned with Jamie and Jeremi hearing him.
The rustle of a bush startled Romeo and he turned around ready to fight for his life. Royce pushed the branches out of the way, peeking down the street to make sure the car was gone before he came out from behind the bush.
“We gotta get home,” Romeo said, his voice raw and ragged.
…
Royce’s lungs burned and his heart thudded against his rib cage as he pushed through the bush, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. His eyes locked onto Romeo, who looked just as shaken, but there was no time to dwell on the fear that gripped both of them.
“We gotta get home,” Romeo said, his voice raw and ragged.
Royce nodded, his mind already racing with thoughts of how to get there without running into Jamie and Jeremi again. The streets were dangerous, every shadow a potential threat, but they had no choice. Hiding in someone’s garbage can all night wasn’t an option.
The two brothers took off running, their footsteps echoing against the pavement as they navigated the maze of darkened streets and alleyways. Royce kept glancing over his shoulder, half-expecting to see the car’s headlights bearing down on them. The cold air stung his lungs, each breath a painful reminder of how close they’d come to losing their lives.
Glancing up as they came to the street that crossed onto theirs, Royce looked back at Romeo. “We’re almost there.”
He said it to reassure himself as much as he did to reassure Romeo. The thought of safety pushed him forward, each step bringing them closer.
But as they rounded the corner on to their street, a sinking feeling settled in Royce’s gut.
The screech of tires sent a jolt of fear through him, and before he could react, the car was upon them again. The headlights cut through the darkness, blinding them as the vehicle skidded to a stop in front of them. Royce barely had time to think, to act, before Jamie and Jeremi were out of the car, guns raised.
“Run!” Royce shouted, grabbing Romeo’s arm and pulling him back, but it was too late. Jamie’s gun was already aimed, and Royce watched in horror as the first shot rang out.
Romeo’s body jerked as the bullet struck him, his eyes wide with shock and pain. Time seemed to slow as his body turned, spun by the force of the bullet or a primal instinct to escape. Blood sprang from his hoodie as bullets hit his back, his body gradually collapsing to the ground.
Royce scrambled on his hands and feet to get to his brother. Then he felt a searing pain in his side, he cried out in agony as he collapsed to the ground. His vision blurred as the pain seemed to multiply and spread throughout his body.
He tried to crawl toward his brother, but his own strength was fading fast, his breath growing rapid and shallow. He reached out, his hand trembling as he tried to touch Romeo, but the darkness was closing in around him.
“Rome,” he said, his voice coming out in a croak.
Then everything went black.
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Agent
- Posts: 11802
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 22:54
Dying to Live
Put a bullet in that boy
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djp73
- Posts: 13173
- Joined: 27 Nov 2018, 13:42
Dying to Live
Man seen all the gripes about the game and just killed off his characters
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Captain Canada
- Posts: 7818
- Joined: 01 Dec 2018, 00:15
