This guy isdefinitelygoing to be trouble.
Chapter 6
Canon
“So, you have a sister?” Ian asks, a mischievous smile growing slowly on his face. I give him a ‘stand the fuck down’ look, and he throws both hands up showing he means no harm. “Okay, okay. So, what’s big daddy Kane like?”
I’m trying to remember why Ian and I are friends. Each passing second makes me regret the decision to give him the time of day.
Ian and I met about a year after I entered foster care. He wasn’t another orphaned kid, but rather a kid I ran into when walking to school every day. Our first encounter was right outside the middle school we both attended.
He was being held up by the collar of his wrinkled shirt, laughing in his bully’s face while a group of kids circled around them. The bully was about to pound his face to oblivion, but I stepped inside the circle, slow clapping.
“You get off on bullying kids who are three times smaller than you?” I said to the eighth grader who looked like he lived in the gym.
“Who the fuck are you?” his head jerked towards me, spittle flying from his mouth and landing on my dirty white canvas shoes.
“The better question would be, are you prepared to get your ass beat by a sixth grader?” I chew my gum lazily, and I don’t know what look I’m sporting, but the eighth grader stares me down for a second before deciding to place the scrawny kid back on his feet. He grabs his bag, throwing it over his shoulder and shoving his way through the crowd towards the entrance of the school. I turn on my heel, headed in the same direction when scrawny kid runs up from behind me, trying to keep up with my pace.
“Wow, that was awesome! What are you, like the hood batman?” I ignore him and keep walking, hoping he’ll get the hint that I’m not one for unnecessary conversation.
“I’ve never seen Brock so scared. The name’s Ian, but you can call me panty snatcher.”
I quirk an eyebrow at this nickname, knowing I’ll never in my life say those words together in a sentence. “What’s your name?”
“Get the fuck away from me,” I warn. He’ll find out soon enough that being around me is a curse.
“Kind of long, but I like it! Nice to meet you get the fuck away from me.” He follows me around all day, showing that we’re in the same classes, nagging for my attention until I finally give in.
He’s been attached at my hip ever since, and now I’m really regretting stopping him from getting his ass beat. We’ve gotten into fights together, got into the streets together, and he’s really the only other person I would consider family besides Mason.
“Kane is trying way too hard,” I say, staring out the window at the endless graffiti decorating the local building walls.
We’re in his beat down pick-up truck headed to do business with Rouis, the leader of The Southside Crew. The Southside Crew is a lowly gang that doesn’t have as much weight in the streets as the Owl Brotherhood, but they have the numbers and have been running the southside of LA for years. It wasn’t until Rouis took over a couple years ago that they started creating an even bigger name for themselves.
We need to make some extra cash and ensure that the Owl Brotherhood doesn’t come for my neck, and Rouis is the perfect guy for the job. He’s an old friend of ours that we met through some street dealings growing up and has proved to be a solid and trustworthy companion.
Ian’s truck coughs and sputters as we drive up the steep hill leading to the Southside Crew hangout spot. We don’t spend money on anything that isn’t a necessity, hence why we live in a trailer and why Ian revived this truck from the scrap yard. I even thrift some of my clothes, doing it way before it became a trend on the internet.
“Can you blame him?” Ian’s voice cuts into my thoughts, “He doesn’t know anything about you, so of course he’s scrambling to pick up the pieces. I say give him a chance.”
“You give everyone a chance.” I mutter, shaking my head.
“Yea, if the price is right and if the pussy’s tight.” I look at him in disgust and he just winks at me.
We pull up to the rundown building that once was an old library, long abandoned due to losing funding. About fifteen guys, dressed in dark navy-blue outfit variations and white flags hanging from their pants pockets, eye our car cautiously. Several place their hands behind their backs, reaching for what is likely a pistol tucked in their waistbands.
It’s not until we turn our headlights off and climb out of the car, that they ease up, smiles spreading on their faces.
“Aye its Cay and Ian!” Someone calls from a few feet away, causing everyone else to lower their defense.
“What’s up, Rex.” I dap up the person who owns the voice, pulling him into a quick hug while slapping his back. He goes to do the same to Ian before walking ahead of us towards the buildings front double doors.
“Rouis is inside. It’s good to see you boys still alive and well.” Rex is Rouis’ right-hand man which makes him second in-command of the Southside Crew.
Two guys push the doors open for us as we walk up, each of us giving a nod in acknowledgement.
“The dynamic Duo!” Rouis calls from where he sits in the middle of the main building floor. What used to be a librarian’s desk is now a comfy dark navy couch with a rectangular brown coffee table in front. Guns and magazine clips decorate the table while a few women in bikini tops and jean shorts wipe the guns clean and load them.