Page 8 of Aryan
“Give it to me,” he barks, holding his hand out.
“Aryan, why are you so mad? What is this?”
“None of your fucking business, Brooklyn. Hand me the damn box. Now!”
“Aryan,you better back that shit up and talk to me like you got some goddamn sense. No one talks to me like this, not even you! I will throw this bitch against the wall and let the chips fall where they may. Now I suggest you act like you have some sense and ask me for the box like you know who you are talking to,” I grind out between clenched teeth. I know I have come a long way.
There was a time that if someone would have been foolish enough to talk to me like this, I would have pistol-whipped their ass and put them in ICU. I don’t know what this box is, and I don’t give a fuck; what I care about is the fact that he’s obviously lost his damn mind.
He takes several breaths and is obviously struggling to get his anger under control. Eventually, he says, “Please give me the box, Brooklyn.” I stareat him before I slowly hand him the box. He takes it from my hands and walks out of the suite, slamming the door so hard a picture falls off the wall, shattering on the floor.
I grab his gift, come down the ladder, and grab my weekender bag. In record time, I am packed for a few days. I grab my blanket and leave before he makes it back, leaving his gift on the table in the closet. I don’t go to the spare bedroom this time, but I do stay on the compound grounds in the pool house.
Even though it is the middle of the day, I head to shower, throw on some pajamas, crawl into the bed with my blankie, and try not to go back in the main house and shoot Aryan, I am over this.
I am dragging today after not sleeping well and not eating. I had a plethora of missed calls and text messages from him, but I turned my ringer off. But today, I look like death warmed over, and my patience is at an all-time low. So, when Thomas Dalton walks his ass in the cafeteria and makes a beeline directly over to me, I immediately send a prayer up to help me not cuss his ass out and get fired.
“Brooklyn, is everything alright? You look like hell and are even pricklier than usual.”
Did this mother fucker that looks like a broken thumb really let that disrespectful shit come out his mouth?“First of all, it’s Dr. Maxwell, Dr. Dalton. Second, I am fine, and even if I wasn’t, it’s none of your business, and you’d literally be the last person I would confide in,” I tell him without thinking twice.
“Wow, Broo...” The look I give him makes him switch up real quick. “Uh, Dr. Maxwell, and here I thought we were friends,”
“You thought like Nelly.”
“Nelly? Who is Nelly?” he asks, genuinely perplexed.
“Nelly was the idiot who thought cat shit was jelly. Leave me alone, Thomas. I am being as cordial as possible, okay, and in a minute, I am not. So, if I were you, I’d turn around and go back to wherever you came from. Today is not the day,” I tell him. I would feel bad about taking my frustration over Aryan out on him, but I am honestly frustrated with him, too. This ignorant bastard was waiting in my office with a plastic surgeon when I got to work to talk about the procedure to remove my tattoos. And if that shit didn’t already take me aback, I find out he has already paid for it.The delusion is strong with this one.
I politely explained to the Dr. that I was, in fact, not getting my tattoos removed, and he could vacate my office. I was so pissed off I walked out of my office after the surgeon, leaving Dalton standing there looking stupid.
“Well, clearly, you are being too emotional to have a rational conversation, so I’ll leave you be.”
“That’s your safest bet,” I tell him, cutting him off, and finally, one or two of his working brain cells start working, and he walks away. I would’ve taken this tray and bashed his face in my past life, but I am no longer that girl. I swear, between Aryan and Thomas, I am going to slide back to my old days and beat someone's ass. I can see that people are taking my kindness as a weakness. I take my lunch to my secret spot to be alone and center myself. Thank goodness today is a short shift, a couple more hours, and I can head home. I open the door to the roof, propping it open with the rock, and head to the corner where I have a chair and table set up. Taking a seat, I think about the woman I’ve become. After my mom died, I ran the streets hard. I took part of the life insurance policy my mother made a priority to pay so she could leave me something in the event of her death and went and bought a car. A 2005Dodge Charger,black on black, tinted windows, chrome rims, and a banging sound system. It caught the attention of Supreme, one of the founders of the Breeds street gang in Mobile. He was gorgeous, tall, dark, and handsome, the dark-skinned version ofTupac. Next thing I know, I’m known as Majestic, the female version of Supreme, and I am leading the Breedettes, the all-female gang counterpart to the Breeds. That man meant the world to me, and I thank God every day that I was never caught doing the things I did in the name of love. I hurt people and worse, ran drugs, was a mule for cash and drugs, played decoy, and the list continues. One day, Supreme and I were together on the block and saw one of the leaders of the G-Boys, Chaka, and his girl Frannie. Before I knew what he was going on, he made a U-turn, rolled up on them, jumped out of the car, and punched him. I was out of the car next, dragging Frannie’s ass up and down the street. One thing about me is I know how to throw hands. This was back in the day when we fought if someone disrespected you, but I didn’t count on Frannie having a switchblade in her bra. I didn’t even know that she had cut me until I started getting dizzy. The next thing I know, I wake up in an emergency to Lennox stitching me up. Lennox says to this day she saw something in me, something special. I think my mom sent me to Lennox because that woman ran me down, and she had zero fear. She stayed after me, and when Supreme died in my arms from a drive-by, I knew I had to get my life together, and Lennox was the first person I ran to.
That afternoon, we were out on the block like usual. We stepped into the corner store to grab something to drink because it was hot as hell that day. I remember he got a strawberry soda, and I grabbed a push-up ice cream bar. As soon as we stepped out of the store, he asked for a taste of my ice cream, pulling me into his arms as I extended the treat to him. As soon as he was close, I pushed the ice cream in his face, making him laugh and push me back. It was at that exact moment a car drove by and opened fire on him. I remember screaming as I watched his body dance under the barrage of bullets before they finally raced down the street. Blood was all over the place. I couldn’t figure out where to try to stop the blood because he was bleeding everywhere. I sat in the pool of blood, holding his body, trying to stop his life from seeping out on the sidewalk. He reached up, grabbing my face with his bloody hand. Youknow where everything is. Get it and get out of here. I love you, Brooklyn. I’ll always love you.
When his hand fell away from my face, I knew he was gone. I scooted from under him, jumped in my car, and headed to our stash house. I took the money, drugs, and guns, threw them in the car before heading to our apartment, grabbed the burn bag, went out back, dropped it in the steel trash can, and set it on fire.
Made a call to drop the drugs and guns, took the money, and got in the wind. I took care of business like Supreme told me to do. I brought everything to the other leader of the Breeds, his brother Big Time.
“My brother must be dead if you are bringing this stuff to me,” he says, looking down at me.
“He is,” I say, choking on tears.
“Who did it?”
“Chaka,” I tell him because even if I didn’t, the streets knew, and they were already talking, so it was just a matter of time before he found out.
“You were always a good partner for my brother. I could use a right hand like you,” he says, putting the invitation out there, but no, I could never, but I needed to say it in the most respectful way possible. Big Time didn’t deal with what he perceived as disrespect well. “I…” I start but once again choke on the tears in the back of my throat, threatening to suffocate me.
“Yeah, I figured you really loved my brother. It was more than a partnership for you, too. I respect that. “If you need anything, you know where to find me,” he lets me off the hook, but I want out of this life. If I hadn’t smushed the ice cream in his face, making him push me away, I would have been laid out on that sidewalk with Edreece, aka Supreme.
“Thank you,” I simply say and turn to leave him with the knowledge his brother is gone. Once that was done, I knew I had to talk to the cops, so I headed back to Mobile. I was immediately arrested for fleeing a crime scene and questioned for hours. Grief made it easy not to talk, and no matter what they did to me, it couldn’t compare to the pain I felt losing my first love. The first man to make love to me, to accept me, teach and train me. He comforted me as I dealt with my mother's death, and when my stitches were out, he sat by my side when I got my tattoo to cover the scar. Edreece showed me a side of him he didn’t show anyone else; he was a huge nerd, and had he had someone positive in his life, he could have worked on Wall Street. His mind was sharper than most CEOs. He talked to me for hours about business matters and investing. He had an exit plan; too bad he didn’t stay alive long enough to execute it. He also trained me to know what to do if I ever got arrested. When they finally realized none of their scare tactics were going to work on me, they finally allowed me to have my one phone call, and I called Lennox.
She got me a lawyer, who got a deal for me to do community service, and Lennox was more than happy to put me to work in her clinic, and the rest, they say, is history. Once my legal issues were over and Supreme was buried, I shaved all of my hair off. I felt like I needed to release all those old spirits and connections. I was going for red but somehow got a peach color instead and actually fell in love with it. And all of that shit was easier to deal with than the shit I am going through with Aryan. The love I had for Edreece and Supreme, to the sides of one man, pales in comparison with how I feel about Aryan.
It scares me to think of what I would put up with to keep Aryan in my life. Taking a deep breath, I return to the present and realize it’s started raining, and I have been up here way too long. I hurry to straighten up and rush back into the hospital to finish my shift.