Page 62 of Stay Dangerous

“Yes! Let me put on my shoes!” Rain ran inside the house, while her sister laughed at her.

They’d been passed around the crips in East Kenton since high school, with Rain even getting a concussion from fighting with one of the girls over her man once. They swore they knew Grimey and Sheisty, the heads of the G$ crips, but neither of them niggas were either of their respective baby daddies.

But sad bitch recognized sad bitch. The twins and Renelle were just as lost as the rest of us, so I didn’t call their bluff when they regaled me of their tales of fucking actual rappers and niggas with money.

“You sure you not gon’ get in trouble?” Rian asked me, a devilish smirk on her face. I made the dumb ass mistake of asking her to drive me to the clinic to get birth control, and ended up blabbing about having a boyfriend. If it weren’t for my poker face, she’d have known it was Rico, but all she got was it was one of Turkey’s friends, and I planned to keep it that way.

I waved her off while grabbing my phone to shoot him a text, since I knew she’d have me all over her social media. “What about you? Yo baby daddy ain’t from G$?”

Rian stood. “That nigga up in county. Shit, maybe my forever nigga could break me off something for his bail.”

“You so ratchet,” I cackled, slapping hands with her. She twirled and bent over to give me a mini twerk as Rain floated out the house with a backpack holding our bottle and some sunglasses. Renelle began to yell as we ran to the car they all shared, an old caravan.

Blasting the new Native Sons CD, we peeled off, and I couldn’t hide how giddy I was as I took my first shot of the day. I’d never been to East Kenton, but I’d heard the same stories as everyone else. That they were a different breed.

Even the air was different as we crossed over. The streets were cleaner, and more people were walking around. Even when we turned onto a gravel road, there were people milling about in front of a warehouse looking building.

The Kenton skyline was spraypainted on the front, withGeronimo Landon top of it in gothic font.

Rain swerved into the dirt parking lot and parked closer to the gate. I handed her the bottle, and we all took two shots each.

“Grimey’s mine, sissy.”

“Bitch, can you even fuck? Shouldn’t even be drinking anyway. Yo’ ass better had pumped.”

“Idid,” Rain whined. “Before Wynnie come over. I’m good. And I’m not tryna fuck him.”

“Then why you want him?”

“‘Cause. I’m single, and you not.” Rain winked before she turned to me. “It’ll be some young niggas in there, but you don’t go disappearing with none of these niggas, Wynnie. Take this.”

She handed me a switchblade, and my jaw dropped.

“How did you even get this?” I asked, taking it and tucking it inside my high waisted cut off shorts.

She rolled her eyes. “Grandpa insists.”

We nearly killed the bottle before leaving the van. My tolerance was like a grown man, much like them, so we had a nice buzz instead of being sloppy drunk. Men catcalled us, but since the twins didn’t care, neither did I.

We were let in without issue, and the blast of AC that ruffled my weave made me grin.

The space was open, with a bar, a stage, and sparse seating throughout.

A short man walked up to us, his eyes focused on me. I kept his gaze, even though my lip wanted to curl up immediately.

He wasn’t ugly, and he wasn’t even shorter than me.

But he was thirsty as fuck, and thirsty guys rarely handled rejection well.

“Wassup Twins. Y’all nigga not here,” he joked, hugging them both.

“Fuck you.”

“Shut up, Tim.”

Timkept his eyes on me, making me feel naked. “What’s crackin’? I’m Fave.”

“Wynter.” I placed my hand in his waited one, but he tightened his hold over my fingers.