Promise Broken, page 12
“Looking all sad and shit,” Promise added.
“So, how long you plan on freezing him out, P?”
“I ain’t freezing nobody out, Mouse. I told him when I saw him that we were good,” Promise recounted.
“If y’all good, why you keep ducking him?”
“That’s not true,” Promise argued.
“Promise, every time I bring his name up or suggest linking up with him you change the subject. I know he hurt your feelings that day, but that was the booze that had him talking out his ass. Keys always been a good friend to us. I think it’s time the two of you hash this shit out already.”
“Speaking of booze,” Promise said, changing the subject, “he smelled like he’d been drinking when I saw him.”
“I hear he’s been getting a little too friendly with the sauce since he got that new gig at the hotel,” Mouse informed her.
“What new gig?”
“On weekends he plays piano in the hotel lounge. I think one of his mom’s church friends hooked him up with the job. I guess being around all that free alcohol got to him.”
“But Keys ain’t no big drinker,” Promise pointed out.
“No, he never really has been but you know he carries that gene. You forget that his daddy and granddaddy were notorious drunks. It was only a matter of time before Keys got triggered,” Mouse said as if it was no big deal.
“Ain’t nobody tried to talk to him? We already seen that he ain’t built for that shit and that drinking could go bad for him,” Promise said in a worried tone. She was still kind of pissed at Keys, but didn’t want him hurting himself.
“I ain’t his momma. If you’re so damn concerned, stop playing him at a distance and reach out.” Mouse challenged.
Promise wanted to argue with Mouse, but there was no denying that she had a point. Mouse had managed to forgive Keys, at least to the point of speaking to him again, if not hanging out, but not Promise. She held onto the old resentment of the argument and in doing so, she missed the red flag. Keys was the lone male of their group, but Promise had always been like a protector of his. Not to the point of getting in fights for him, though she would if she had to, but Promise was always the one who kept him out of trouble. He was naive and easily influenced, and Promise always acted as a buffer between him and the bad things lurking. She felt that by alienating him she had left him defenseless, not only against outside forces but his own demons as well. She needed to fix things.
Before Promise could articulate this to Mouse, Asher appeared. He was wearing a red Nike tracksuit and a crisp pair of Jordan 11’s, the black-and-red design. Promise wasn’t sure if it was the way the sun was shining on him, or if it was the weed, but he looked almost celestial. Their eyes met and they had a whole conversation without either of them saying a word. Promise could’ve lived in his gaze forever, but it wasn’t to be.
“Sup, you gonna stand there gawking at my girl or you gonna speak?” Mouse spoke up.
“What up with you, shorty?” Asher tore his gaze from Promise and focused on Mouse.
“Creeping, you know how that goes,” Asher said in his cool voice.
“I hear it’s a lot of that going around since Zul touched down,” Promise said. It was just something for her to say to include herself in the conversation.
Asher gave her a disapproving look. “If I were you, I wouldn’t go around bumping my gums about shit that I’m clueless about. Some people could take it wrong, ya know?”
Embarrassed, Promise just nodded and wished she’d just kept her stupid mouth closed.
“What happened to you earlier? You were supposed to come back to the spot, and B-Stone was looking for you,” Mouse interjected, picking up on her friend’s embarrassment.
“I had some shit to take care of. Y’all didn’t fuck up the count, did you?” Asher asked.
“That’s above my paygrade, but not as far as I know. Lil dude y’all had in the spot found himself in a situation though.” Mouse proceeded to tell him of the incident involving B-Stone dangling the boy out the window.
“That dude be doing too much.” Asher shook his head. B-Stone had always been a strange nut, and prone to unpredictable fits of violence, but lately he had been worse than usual. It was likely due to the angel dust and pills, and the Zul situation probably wasn’t helping. Asher had already heard about the shooting in front of the supermarket and now this. Somebody was going to have to have a talk with him about his recent antics before he did something that made the block hotter than it already was. Asher had no intentions of volunteering to have the talk, but he would take it to Ab or maybe Saud to see if they could get through to him. “Y’all seen Milk today?” he changed the subject.
“Early this morning when I got to the Trap, but not since,” Mouse told him. “You seen him, Promise?”
“Nah, why?” she lied.
“I need him to run me to that big liquor store on Springfield. My car been acting funny and Cal went to see one of his sisters at the county in Trenton. Milk is the next man up with a set of wheels.”
“What’s wrong with the one across the street?” Promise nodded in the direction of their local liquor store.
“They ain’t got what I need. I’m trying to snatch up a case of champagne,” Asher informed her.
“What’s the special occasion? Stone’s birthday passed already.” Mouse was curious.
“Nah, not a birthday but just as much a reason to celebrate. The lil homie Clay just got a full-ride scholarship to Alabama A&M to play ball, so we gonna have a little something for him at the hotel,” Asher informed them.
“You mean the big quiet nigga who be out in front of the store sometimes? I didn’t even know he could read, let alone was going to school,” Mouse said. She knew Clay more by face than anything. Sometimes she would see him posted up with the boys, but never for too long and never when something was going on. When the block was active one of the older homeboys would always make him leave. Mouse always thought that it was because he was soft. She had no idea that they were actually trying to look out for him.
“I could fill a book with the things that you don’t know, Mouse,” he teased her.
“So, I guess our invitations must’ve gotten lost in the mail, huh?” Mouse asked.
“This ain’t that type of party. Only a few select people will be there, this ain’t no shit for the whole hood. We’re trying to keep it small, crew only,” Asher told her.
“Oh, so I ain’t a part of the crew?” Mouse questioned.
“I don’t mean it like that, Mouse. We fucks with you, but you ain’t quite there yet,” Asher told her. He wasn’t being rude, only honest. Mouse had only been with the team for a hot minute.
“I see how it is.” She tucked her head and turned away from him. The slight had hurt Mouse because she thought she was really one of them.
“We don’t need to go to their party, Mouse. It’s probably gonna be whack anyway, with a bunch of whack-ass bitches being thirsty,” Promise said, defending her friend.
“Shorty, you don’t even believe that. You know how me and my crew roll. Any broad that parties with us is gonna be primo, not no mud-ducks. I only keep company with women who are about that,” Asher boasted.
“So, that means a few of your girlfriends are gonna be there then?” Promise asked. She wasn’t sure what made her ask such an inappropriate question other than the fact that she was trying to get a reaction out of Asher. She had seen enough of him to know how he got down and she knew how to bait him.
Asher gave Promise a look, taken aback by her bluntness. This was a side of her that he hadn’t seen before and it intrigued him. “I ain’t got multiple girls, just acquaintances. I’m selective about where I stick my dick. And not that it’s any of your business, but I have never stuck my dick in any of the girls who’ll be at the hotel tonight . . . at least as of yet.” He grazed her hand so that there was no mistake about where he was coming from.
“I hear you talking, big time.” Promise gave him a playful smile.
“You need to do more than hear me, you need to really listen,” Asher shot back. “I’ll tell you like this; it ain’t my party to be extending no invites, but if you should happen to find your way there I wouldn’t be mad at seeing you.”
“I’ll think about it,” Promise said, nonchalantly and busied herself examining her nails. She needed to clip them because they were chipped and uneven.
“You talk a lot of shit lately, Promise. There’s gonna come a day when we’ll see if you’re willing to back it up. You ladies be well.” Asher walked off.
Promise watched Asher as he disappeared up the block and felt her brain going somewhere carnal. Promise was still technically a virgin. One time she had let a dude put the head in, but he came before he could fully penetrate her so it didn’t really count. She’d been sour on sex since then, but Asher was a different case. She would happily give it to him and wouldn’t care if he came within two pumps, or twenty. Asher could do no wrong in her eyes. There was something about that man that made her itch and she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to hold out before he finally got around to scratching it.
Her eyes drifted down the block, in the direction of her house, and landed on a red Honda Civic. She probably wouldn’t have noticed it had it not pulled up only seconds after Asher, taking its time when it bent the corner, like whoever was inside was trying to get a good look at who was on the corner. The Civic parked a few cars down from the liquor store, but no one had gotten out. They were just sitting there. At first Promise suspected that it might be the police, but the boys in front of the store had made at least five sales that she saw and nobody had jumped out of the Honda. She was about to point the car out to Mouse but got sidetracked.
“Girl, what the hell was that?” Mouse asked excitedly. She had seen Promise pop fly with some of the lesser soldiers but never expected her to pull something like that with Asher.
“I . . . I don’t know,” Promise said honestly. Now that Asher was gone she had a chance to really think about what she had just done. It was the weed . . . it had to be. There was no sense in worrying about it at that point. What was done was done. She just hoped she hadn’t come on too strong and spooked him.
“My girl was talking that talk!” Mouse said proudly.
“Yeah, but we still got dubbed on the party,” Promise said disappointedly.
“Girl, you hear shit, but never pay attention. Asher done already told us we good . . . well, if we get in we’re straight,” Mouse clarified.
“So, what? We supposed to just show up at the party and hope we don’t get embarrassed when we try to get in?”
“No, silly girl. We’re getting invited,” Mouse told her. She pulled out her phone and dialed a number. “Hey, big daddy. I need a solid from you.”
CHAPTER 14
Asher walked up the block with one hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, trying to force down the erection that Promise had given him. It was like whenever he was around the girl he turned into a horn-dog. She’d never made any advances toward him before that day and didn’t dress provocatively. She was actually quite plain-looking, but there was something about the white girl that turned him on.
Anybody with eyes could see that Promise was sweating him. It probably wouldn’t take much on his part to finally get her to pry those creamy thighs open and let him in, but where was the fun in that? The biggest thrill of any hunt was always the chase. He knew the way he played her hot and cold had her mind going in a million different directions, but it was all a part of his plan. He didn’t want Promise just to like him, he needed her to lust after him. Asher had to stoke the fire in her belly enough to where she felt like she would be incinerated if she didn’t have him, and that’s when he would finally put the fire out.
Turning his thoughts from Promise, he texted Milk again. This was the third time he had texted him since their initial exchange. When he’d hit Milk earlier he had agreed to give Asher a ride to the liquor store. They were supposed to meet on the block, but Milk was nowhere to be found. The final text Asher sent was to tell Milk to meet him at his house because he was tired of waiting on the block.
Asher had to move swiftly going back to his place. Before he left to meet Milk, he had gotten rid of Ruby. She wasn’t happy about it, thinking she was going to hang around and play house, but Asher wasn’t with it. He told her that he had some moves to make and was sending her home so that if his mom came back and found her in the condo she wouldn’t trip. It was total bullshit. Asher’s mom liked Ruby, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. That would only make her try and sink her claws deeper into him. He’d broken her off a piece of dick and now wanted to be left alone so he could pursue other interests, like the chicks who would be at Clay’s celebration.
While Asher was walking he couldn’t help but feel like he was being watched. From his situation earlier, he had learned to follow his first instincts. He stopped, pretending that he had to tie his shoe, and spared a glance over his shoulder. There was nothing out of place as he could see, nobody following him, but the feeling remained. Instead of going directly to his complex, he ducked into the store on King. The woman who owned it and Asher were tight. When they first opened and she was having trouble with the locals, it was Asher who put the word out that the fish market was sacred ground. They hadn’t had a problem since. He was always looking out for local establishments when he could and they would be eager to return the favors. This is why when he asked the woman in the fish market if he could slip out through the back door she didn’t hesitate to unlock it for him.
The alley behind the fish market stank to high hell. It was a mingle of rotting fish parts and piss. There was a fence that separated the market from the next property over and this is how Asher would make his escape. As he made to climb the fence he accidentally stepped on some discarded fish guts that got on the sides of his sneaker. “Fuck,” he cursed before pulling himself over.
The fence put him in an empty lot that sat behind the market. Asher could remember the house that had once sat on the lot. It was one of the nicer ones in the neighborhood until a few years ago. The house went into escrow when the owners fell behind on the payments. It was on the market for a while, but nobody was really interested in buying property in that neighborhood back then. Eventually it became a hangout for drug addicts and stray cats. People from the neighborhood complained to the city about the abandoned house and the things that went on in there, but nobody listened. This changed when the body of an eleven-year-old girl was discovered inside. She had been raped and strangled. The house had then sat as a reminder of something that could’ve been prevented. When the people in the neighborhood decided that they couldn’t stare at the house for another minute, the homies acted. They did what the city had refused to and got rid of it. Under the cover of darkness, Asher, Ab, and a few others had set the house on fire.
Asher exited the lot and looped around the other side of the street before walking to his complex. The closer he got, the more anxious he became. He was bugging. When his phone went off it scared the hell out of him. It was a text from Milk letting him know that he would be there in a few minutes. Dropping the phone back into his pocket, Asher went inside his condo. The first thing he noticed was the smell of something burning. At first, he thought that maybe his mother had left a pot on the stove, but as he crossed into his living room he realized that it wasn’t a pot he smelled burning, but a cigarette. By the time he realized it, it was already too late.
* * *
There were three of them in total. Men sitting in his living room like they paid bills there. He didn’t recognize their faces, but the guns they were holding spoke volumes as to their intentions. Asher went for his gun and realized that he had never taken it from under the mattress after he had left with Ruby.
“Looking for this?” A man emerged from the kitchen. A cigarette dangled from his mouth and Asher’s .380 from his index finger. This was a face that Asher did recognize. He was tall and light-skinned, with a low-cut fade and an ocean of waves going over the top. The blue suit he was wearing looked like it had been tailored to fit, with the jacket stopping just short of his wrists. He’d grown a goatee since the last time Asher had seen him, speckled with prematurely gray hair. It gave him a wizened look, like a worldly uncle who was always around to give advice to his nephews. It was the eyes that told the story of who he really was; cold and black.
Asher stood there dumbfounded, too afraid to try and run and too flustered to trust his words to talk him out of this. He was frozen. When he was finally able to get his wits about him enough to say something he muttered one word: “Zul.”
Zul smiled. “For a minute I was starting to think that I had been gone so long that you had forgotten my name.” He waited for a response, but Asher was silent. His eyes were on the .380. Once Zul realized what Asher was thinking he put the gun down on the counter. “C’mon, Ash. Whatever you’re thinking, it ain’t that. Relax, lil homie.” He motioned for Asher to have a seat on the couch. Asher didn’t move.
“You don’t hear the loc talking to you?” one of the men on the couch asked. He was an ugly brown-skinned dude who was missing a tooth in the front of his mouth. He cocked the hammer on his 9mm letting Asher know where this would go if he didn’t comply.
Asher sat on the arm of the chair, trying to keep as much distance between himself and Zul’s goons. “Fuck y’all doing in my pad?” he said, finally finding his nerve.
Zul clapped his hands in excitement. “There’s the little spitfire I know. The one who asks the hard questions. What am I doing in your house? Anyone care to take a guess?” His eyes swept the room before coming back to rest on Asher.
“Dig, if this shit is about what’s going on between you and B-Stone then I suggest you take it up with the nigga you got an issue with,” Asher said. He knew he was halfway throwing B-Stone under the bus, but the way he saw it he had to use whatever was at his disposal to survive this encounter. At the moment, all he had was his words and the knowledge of old resentments.
