“What’s good Rouis. I see you brought me something to snack on.” Ian licks his lips as he eyes the women down.
“Down boy,” Rouis playfully warns, but still with a tad bit of seriousness in his eyes. “That’s enough ladies. Thank you.”
The women get up slowly, one biting her lower lip as she stares at me with lust in her eyes. Once they leave the room, it’s just the four of us. Rouis gestures to the now vacant spots on the couch and I walk over with Ian in tow, taking a seat at the far end.
“I’ve come up with a plan to keep the brotherhood off your trail. It’s not guaranteed to keep them away from you for good, but it will help us get the jump on anything they have planned.” Rouis starts, sparking a blunt that he grabs from his pocket.
“What you got?” I ask, leaning forward and resting my elbows on my knees.
“One of my guys will get officially recruited, so he can gather intel and let us know what the brotherhood is planning. This way, we stay a few steps ahead at all times, ready for whatever.”
I scratch my chin, liking the idea, but before I can voice my concerns, Ian cuts in.
“You sure that’s a good idea? I mean, how are you going to convince them that a Southside Crew member, one of their main opps, is actually switchingsides and turning on his family?”
Rex cuts in, already prepared to answer this question.
“We caught one of our guys stealing from us and planned on taking him out the old-fashioned way,” he pounds his fist, cracking all of his knuckles in unison, “but figured this was the perfect opportunity to help our intel guy show his new loyalty to the brotherhood. We’ll give the thief to him so he can kill a Southside Crew member in front of them. If that doesn’t show loyalty, I don’t know what does.”
It sounds like it’s going to work, but we won’t know for sure until it happens.
“Sounds good. Onto the other reason we’re here.” I say, glancing from Rex to Rouis. Rouis stands up, finishing off his blunt before putting it out and leaving the roach in the ash tray.
He jerks his head to the side, beckoning us to follow him as he leads us to the room in the back of the building. He shows us a box of shipments, pointing at the one we’re supposed to be delivering to the docks. We’ll get our payment as soon as the delivery has been confirmed.
Once Ian’s truck is loaded up, we thank Rex and Rouis, dapping them up again before climbing into the car. It’s not until we’re a couple miles down the road that Ian breaks the silence.
“I’m worried the plan won’t work,” he states simply.
“Don’t worry. Just focus on the endgame. Our business. Once we have that, we’re home free.”
His face is still scrunched in worry when we deliver the shipment to the docks. I snap a picture for Rouis to see and he instantly sends a few hundred bucks to my bank account.
“Focus on the business,” I repeat to a quieter than usual Ian.
He nods as he pulls his truck out the lot, heading for home.
Chapter 7
Demi
Shopping has never been therapy for me. Dipping in and out of expensive boutiques actually repulses me, making me wonder why women are obsessed with draining their bank accounts.
For Amethyst, unfortunately, it’s the best therapy she’s ever had.
We’re inside of a fancy boutique located in the heart of downtown Los Angeles. Blouses, sundresses, and silk scarves are on display, dressing white mannequins with skinny model shaped bodies. I glance down at my thicker hips, boobs that barely fit into the palm of my hand, and my stomach with a small amount of grabbable fat.
I love my body, and even though you don’t really see my body type plastered on a lot of these magazines, that just makes me love it even more. I don’t strive to be anyone else because I feel like being me is more than perfect.
“Oh em gee, Demi! This dress will look perfect on you!” Amy calls from somewhere behind a clothing rack. I follow her voice until I see her standing in front of a floor-length mirror, holding up a dress on a hanger for me to see.
“Oh wow, it’s…colorful.” I’m more of a nude, neutral color kind of girl. Give me a nice dusty pink colored dress and I’m set for life. The dress Amy holds up is anything but nude, sporting colors that scream at you from miles away. You could probably use this dress as a traffic stoplight.
There’s a mix of bright green, pink, purple, yellow, orange and even blue, wound together in scribbled lines and shapes. It looks like an art project from a pre-school.
“Isn’t it gorgeous?” Amy places the dress against her torso, looking at herself in the mirror.
“I think you can pull it off more than me. You’ve got that whole Disney princess vibe down and this looks like something they might wear to a tea party.”