​Chapter 14: Hot Wings & Trouble

Me and Kiesha ain’t say a word the whole way back.

We just moved.

Fast.

Heart racin’, thoughts spinnin’.

By the time we made it to her spot, we was both breathin’ heavy, hands still shakin’.

Kiesha fumbled with the keys, finally pushin’ the door open.

Her crib was quiet.

Her mom worked all day at the bank, so she was never home till late.

Her pops?

Ain’t been around since she was nine.

Nigga dipped out, said he couldn’t deal with her mom’s constant resentment and reminders of his cheating ass ways.

It was just Kiesha now.

And for today, it was just us.

We went straight to her room.

No music. No TV.

Just silence.

We sat on the bed, staring at each other.

Both of us tryin’ to process what the fuck just happened.

Finally, I spoke.

"We gotta forget this shit ever happened, Kiesha."

She blinked slow.

"If anybody asks, we was here all day." I kept my voice low, firm. "Nobody can know what went down in that alley."

She nodded, but I could see the way her fingers twitched in her lap.

Then—

Her phone rang.

She snatched it up, looked at the screen.

Kirk.

She answered quick.

"Nigga, pull up. Me and Joe in trouble."

I whipped my head toward her, slappin’ my forehead.

"Kiesha, goddamn! I just said don’t tell nobody!"

She gave me a look. "Nigga, it’s Kirk."

I sighed, shakin’ my head.

But she was right.

I trusted Kirk.

While we waited, Kiesha grabbed a fresh towel and headed to the bathroom.

The shower turned on, and for a second, I just sat there, starin’ at the floor.

Then, after a minute, I got up and grabbed a towel too.

Needed to wash the sin off me.

By the time I was done, Kiesha was already dressed in some comfy-ass shorts and a tank top, sittin’ on her bed with her legs tucked up.

I threw on my sweats and a white tee just as we heard a car pull up outside, bass thumpin’, beat knockin’—GangStarr.

I smirked. I already knew that was my nigga Kirk.

That’s all he play.

​

Kirk walked in like he already knew we was on some bullshit.

"Y’all niggas stay gettin’ into some shit, huh?" he muttered, settin’ a bag down on the bed.

The smell hit instantly.

Hot wings.

Lemon pepper.

My stomach growled loud as hell.

"Damn, Kirk, you a real one," Kiesha sighed, diggin’ in.

He smirked, pullin’ out a bottle of Orange Crush and a fat-ass blunt.

"Knew y’all dumbasses ain’t eat yet."

We sat on the bed, dippin’ wings, sippin’ soda, and finally breathin’ for the first time since the alley.

After a few minutes, Kirk lit up, takin’ a slow pull before passin’ it.

Then he leaned back, exhalin’.

"Aight. Talk."

We told him everything.

The alley. The junkie. The fight. The rock Kiesha smashed into his head.

By the time we finished, Kirk was just starin’ at us.

Then he sighed, rubbin’ his temples.

"Man... I knew this rock was gon’ have y’all on some crazy shit."

Me and Kiesha said nothin’.

"Y’all need to lay low," Kirk muttered, sittin’ up. "I’ma ask around the block, make sure ain’t nobody see nothin’."

Then he turned to Kiesha.

"You good?"

For the first time since we got back, she hesitated.

Then, slowly, she shook her head.

And I knew.

She regretted it.

For the first time since we started smokin’ rock, Kiesha probably wished she never took that first hit with my J-azz.

Commercial break

​

Meanwhile, Across Town...

Across town, Dante was loungin’ at Lia’s place, kicked back on the couch like he ain't have a worry in the world.

A blunt burned slow between his fingers, his free hand lazily tappin’ against his knee as he let the high settle in. TV on low, feet propped up—he was coolin’.

From the kitchen, Lia hummed to herself, rummagin’ through a glass jar, fingers siftin’ through fresh buds.

Dante watched her for a second, then his gaze drifted to the table.

Her phone sat unlocked, screen dimmed.

On instinct, he reached for it.

No real reason—just habit.

But the moment he scrolled through her call log, his gut twisted.

A number he ain’t recognize.

It stood out—recent.

He squinted, thumb hoverin’ over the digits.

Somethin’ felt off.

Who the fuck is this?

Without thinkin’, he pressed call.

Raised the phone to his ear.

And waited.

––––––––

Back to Joe Perspective

​

My StarTAC buzzed on the nightstand.

I picked it up, still leanin’ back on Kiesha’s bed, wings in one hand.

Flipped it open.

I knew it was Lia’s number—probably tryna see ya boy.

"Was up, baby girl?" I said smooth, lickin’ lemon pepper off my fingers.

"You get rid of that nigga?"

Silence.

No response.

I frowned.

"Lia?"

Then—

Click.

They hung up.

I stared at the phone.

Kirk and Kiesha both looked over.

"Who was that?" Kiesha asked.

I licked my lips.

"I don’t know."

My stomach twisted.

Maybe she ain’t mean to call.

Maybe somebody had her phone.

I shook it off.

Wasn’t nothin’ to worry about.

Right?

​