Page 17 of On You 2

I pointed down the sidewalk toward the Polo store.

“We're here for your son.”

“That store looks like it’s closed, Amir.”

“Yeah, I know, but what size does he wear anyway?”

“Huh?” She turned her nose up in confusion.

“What size does Rj wear?”

“Like a 6T. Why?”

I unbuckled my seatbelt and grabbed the ski mask from the glove compartment that I just used to set the fire.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”

“Amir.”

Jasmine called my name as I climbed out of the car.

The streets weren’t crowded this late, with only a few cars sliding by while lights from the stores reflected across the sidewalk. I stood back from the glass entrance for a second before pulling my gun from my waistband.

I pointed towards the glass and shot five shots into the windows, making the glass explode. The store alarm started to ring loudly as I rushed through the now open window, stepping on shards of glass that were crunching underneath my sneakers.

After entering the store, I knew I didn’t have much time, so I spent the time I had moving quickly through the racks looking for the size she’d told me.

“6T, 6T”

My eyes bounced through the racks, grabbing anything fresh that could fit Rj. While grabbing shit in his size, I stumbled upon a rack full of Polo pajamas near the back and grabbed him one of those too because I knew that’s what he needed to be comfortable in that hospital bed. Plus, the button up top would be easier to put on him.

Sirens started wailing faintly somewhere in the distance, and I knew that meant my time was almost up.

“Shit.”

I moved faster, throwing everything over my arm before heading toward the front counter. Right before leaving back out, I dug into my pocket and dropped a thick stack of cash onto the register because I wasn’t a thieving ass nigga and I only did this to see Jasmine feel better tonight. Yeah, I could’ve waited until the morning, but she needed a win tonight. Shit, I know how fragile the mind can get when you're going through something, and every second off the edge counts. I don’t want shorty hurting herself because she feels like she can’t get a win out of life.

When I got back to the car, I yanked the passenger door open and tossed all the clothes into Jasmine’s lap before running around the car and jumping behind the wheel again. The store alarm was still screaming down the block, while sirens echoed in the distance, growing louder by the second.

Jasmine looked down at the pile of little Polo outfits stacked on top of her in complete shock, her mouth hanging open, while I sped off, making sure we were nowhere around when the cops got there.

"Amir, you really went and did that?" She shook her head, trying to hold back a laugh and failing miserably.

“Of course I did.” I glanced over at her quickly before looking back toward the street.

“I left enough money in there on the counter for the clothes and the window I broke.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” She started laughing. The kind of nervous laugh like she couldn’t believe what just happened, but the more distance we put between ourselves and the store, the more real the laugh became.

That was probably the most alive I had seen her act all day.

She kept twisting around in her seat, looking back through the rear windshield while clutching the outfits against her chest.

“Oh my God, if I go to jail because of you, I’m going to hurt you, Amir Quatar!”

“Don’t worry, your ass is not going to jail. That’s a promise. We got a way. There isn’t a cop in sight around us. Shit, you know how many New York stores get raided a year with no suspects found.” I laughed, even more relaxed now, driving slowly again to blend in with the flow of the traffic on this side of town.

Though we were far away, every pair of headlights coming toward us made Jasmine sit up straighter, thinking it was the police, and every time it turned out to just be another regular car, she’d let out another laugh.