Page 4 of Addicted

I didn’t respond. I was already out the door, my heels clicking against the floor as I made my way to theexit. Aurora called after me, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.

My little brother was out there trying to get into the same shit that destroyed so many people I knew. The same shit that could get him killed or locked up. After everything I’d sacrificed, everything I’d done to give him a better life.

I pushed through the club doors into the cool night air, my keys already in my hand. My Lexus truck was parked in the employee lot, and I was in it within seconds, engine roaring to life.

As I peeled out of the parking lot, only one thought ran through my mind: Ishmael was about to get his ass beat.

***

The streets were mostly empty at this time of night. It was just after two in the morning. I flew through yellow lights, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tight my knuckles were screaming in protest. My heart was pounding in my chest.

What the fuck was Ish thinking?

I’d been busting my ass for five years to keep us afloat, to keep him fed and clothed and in a decent neighborhood away from all this street shit. And this is what he was doing? Selling drugs on some corner like he was built for that life?

He wasn’t built for shit. He was sixteen years old with a smart mouth and too much confidence. The kind of confidence that got young Black boys killed every single day.

I turned onto Central, my eyes scanning the street corners as I drove. Fifth and Central, Aurora had said. I was two blocks away.

My phone buzzed in the cup holder. Probably Aurora checking on me, or maybe Roman wondering what the emergency was. I didn’t look at it. My focus was singular right now.

Then I saw him.

Even from a distance, I could see him holding something in his hand, talking to some man who looked twice his age. I saw the man grab Ishmael by his shirt.

I didn’t even think. I slammed on my brakes, threw the car in park right in the middle of the street, and popped open my glove compartment. My fingers wrapped around the cold metal of my gun. It was a 9mm I’d bought two years ago after some nigga tried to follow me home from work.

“Indie, what the fuck—” Ishmael’s eyes went wide when he saw me coming, gun in hand. I was still in my work clothes. Jeans stretched tight across my hips, a crop top riding just high enough to show skin, and heels that clicked against the pavement with every step.

The man who’d been grabbing him turned around, and before he could say a word, I swung the butt of my gun and cracked him across the side of his head.

“Bitch!” he yelled, stumbling back with blood already dripping down his face and into his mouth, painting his gold teeth red.

“Indie, chill! What you doing?!” Ishmael tried to grab my arm, but I shook him off.

“Get in the fucking car, Ishmael. Now!”

“You just made a big mistake,” Gold Teeth said, holding his head. His boys had started to circle around us, and I raised my gun, pointing it at each of them.

“I don’t give a fuck about no mistake. That’s my little brother and he’s leaving. Now.”

“You know whose territory this is?” Gold Teeth was still talking, even with blood running down his face. “This is Stone’s corner. Yo’ little brother was out here trying to sell product that ain’t come from Stone. That’s a violation. A big one.”

“I don’t know no Stone and I don’t give a fuck about no violation,” I said, my gun still raised. “Ishmael, get your ass in the car!”

“Indie, please, just—”

Before Ishmael could finish, I heard tires screeching. A black van pulled up fast. The doors slid open and three niggas jumped out, all of them moving with military precision.

“Indie, we gotta go!” Ish was pulling at my arm now, panic in his voice. “We gotta go right now!”

I aimed my gun, but before I could even think about firing, one of them was on me. He grabbed my wrist and twisted it hard, making me drop the weapon. I screamed and tried to fight back, throwing elbows and kicks, but there were too many of them.

“Get the fuck off me!” I was yelling, thrashing as hard as I could.

Ish tried to help, swinging at one of the dudes, but he got grabbed too. They were bigger, stronger, and clearly trained for this shit.

Gold Teeth walked up and got right in my face. “Told you. You just fucked up.”