​Chapter 13: Blood on the Rock

We stood there, starin’ at the alley for a second.

We ain’t wanna go in.

Ain’t wanna step over piss-stained pavement, past the junkies noddin’ off against the walls.

But that itch?

That shit don’t wait for comfort.

I licked my lips, hands shakin’ slightly as I pulled out the pipe.

We ducked into the alley, findin’ a shady-ass corner, the sound of slurpin’ still comin’ from the old white lady across the way.

This was our life now.

I sparked up, took a deep pull, and exhaled slow.

Back to Niggadise.

I don’t know how long we was floatin’ before we heard footsteps.

Soft at first.

Then closer.

A  big shadow shifted near the wall, and next thing I knew, a raggedy-ass white man was standin’ in front of us, eyes wild, jittery, teeth missin’.

I knew his type.

Been on the rock for decades.

He was still sweatin’ from his last high, jaw workin’ overtime like he was chewin’ on air.

"Y’all new out here," he said, noddin’ to himself like he already knew the answer.

I ain’t say shit.

Just stared at him.

"Man," he chuckled, rubbin’ his hands together. "I used to run this city. Back in the 80s? Nigga, I was the kingpin of Atlanta. Had houses, cars, bitches... nothin’ but money and power."

Kiesha snorted. "Word?"

"Hell yeah!" He grinned, missin’ damn near every tooth in his mouth. "I had the big spots, used to party with strippers—male and female. Didn’t matter to me. Life was wild."

I just blinked. "Uh... cool?"

He kept goin’ like we gave a fuck.

"Man, I did it all," he ranted. "One time, I snorted coke off the ground. Shit fell near some dog shit, but fuck it—I ain’t wastin’ good coke!"

Me and Kiesha exchanged a quick look.

This nigga was crazy.

But then— he did some disrespectful shit...

He reached for the pipe.

Kiesha still had it pressed to her lips, mid-hit, eyes rollin’ back when his dirty-ass fingers shot out.

"Here, lemme hit that," he slurred, grippin’ the pipe like it belonged to him.

She jerked back, brows shootin’ up.

"The fuck, nigga?!"

Before I could think, my body moved on its own.

I tackled his ass to the ground.

We hit the pavement hard as hell.

"Nigga, let go!" I grunted, wrestlin’ with his bony-ass arms.

But he was stronger than he looked.

I felt his fingers diggin’ into my skin, his breath hot and rank, stinkin’ like old beer and rotten teeth.

I threw a punch, bustin’ his lip.

He bit my arm.

"Ahh, fuck!"

We tumbled, rollin’ across the pavement, my back scrapin’ against the ground, the pipe just outta reach.

I could see Kiesha standin’ there, frozen, eyes wide.

"Kiesha, get the pipe!" I yelled.

She ain’t move.

She was locked in, watchin’ us like a horror movie.

Then I saw her eyes flicker to somethin’ nearby.

A rock.

A big, solid, brick-lookin’ ass rock.

Before I could say nothin’, she snatched it up—

And brought it down.

CRACK!

The sound rang through the alley, echoing off the walls.

The junkie’s body jerked.

Then went limp.

Kiesha stood over him, the rock still in her hand, her chest rising and falling fast.

She was shakin’.

Eyes locked on his body.

I scrambled up, pantin’, blood drippin’ from my arm.

"Kiesha."

She ain’t move.

Ain’t blink.

Just stared.

"Kiesha!"

She still ain’t respond.

So I did somethin’ I ain’t never done before.

I smacked her.

Not hard. Not to hurt her.

Just enough to snap her back.

She blinked. Gasped. Looked at me like she ain’t even know where she was.

"We gotta go, Kiesh." I grabbed her arm. "Now. Let’s go!"

I pulled her along, draggin’ her out the alley.

As we passed, the old white lady was still givin’ head, completely unaware of what just went down.

But then, behind us—

A rustle.

Like someone else was there.

Watchin’.

Me and Kiesha exchanged one last look.

Then we ran.

Fast.

Straight to her spot.