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I waited until she disappeared inside the shop before speeding off the property and back into heavy traffic. I reached my destination on the south end of King’s Cross just before you crossed into the Battery. King’s Cross was the second roughest part of town—Unity Garden being the first—and the place I’d first called home before my parents decided they wanted better for me and moved us to the suburbs.
Sunnyside was known around Idlewild as the Black suburbia since that was where all the well-to-do Black folks moved as soon as they came across a little money.
Maryle was the same, except it was mostly White people upgrading from the high rises in the inner city or escaping the Nine Hills bikers who ran Hilltop.
The two suburbs were separated by Midtown, Unity Garden, and King’s Cross. KC used to be called Third Ward until Joren, Roc, Golden, and I took over. The interstate ran directly through it from all four directions, so if any player wanted to move their product in and out of town, they had to go through us, hence the name King’s Cross.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” Giselle greeted me as soon as I got out of my car. Despite how cold it was, she was standing on her stoop in blue cotton shorts that looked more like panties, with her arms crossed over her braless chest covered by a thin tank top and a pink bonnet on her head.
Knowing what type of time she was on, I sighed and rubbed my brow. I know I promised Atlas I’d be good, but I didn’t expect to be put to the test this soon. I didn’t have a type, but if I did, it would be girls like Giselle.
Hoodrats were my fucking weakness.
They gave the best head, and I could get my dick sucked without them thinking they were my girl just because they made me come. They were just trying to survive from one day to the next and understood the game. Every encounter was transactional rather than emotional. They took what they needed from men and kept it pushing. But most importantly, they played their fucking position.
Clout chasers—suburban private-school princesses like Savannah, who’d had the world handed to them on a platter—expected me to fall at their feet just because they looked good and had okay pussy. They were shallow, couldn’t hold a real conversation for shit, and were the easiest to use. They were doormats, willing to do whatever I wanted because they were either looking for a thrill, wanting to piss off their rich fathers, or thinking it would make me wife them.
And then there were girls like Atlas.
Head in the clouds. Sheltered. Naive. Young. They demanded the fucking world based on absolutely nothing and couldn’t fuck without getting their feelings involved. I’d always stayed far away from her kind.
That was until my girl showed up on my doorstep and stole all my fucking focus with her fucked-up attitude and smart-ass mouth. Atlas didn’t fit firmly in one box, which might be why I couldn’t stay away, and why it felt like I couldn’t breathe when I wasn’t in the same room as her.
“What’s up, Giselle?”
“Nothing. Come on inside. I’m ready for you.”
Out of habit, I admired the way her ass cheeks hung out of the bottom of her shorts as I followed her inside the ramshackle house. Giselle had a makeshift salon set up in one of the backrooms. Yeah, I could have gotten my hair done at an actual salon, but I’d grown up with Giselle, and she’d been braiding my hair ever since I decided to grow it out in high school. She was talented as fuck, so I never had any reason to switch up on her.
And, yes, okay, I fucked heroccasionally.
I knew it wouldn’t matter to Atlas that it was before her time, so I’d avoided the subject altogether so that I wouldn’t be tempted to choke her ass when she got mad over nothing and pissed me off.
I sat at the bowl and let Giselle wash my hair as she filled me in on everything going on around the hood—mostly who was fighting, fucking, or getting money now. Giselle was my little spy, and I paid her well to keep her eyes and ears open.
When she was done shampooing and conditioning my hair, she blew it dry before oiling my scalp.
“So, what about you?” she asked me as she began sectioning my hair to braid.
“What about me?”
“Is it true?”
“Be specific.” I could feel myself getting irritated, especially after the morning I had. Fortunately, I was trying to change and become someone Atlas would be proud to call her man, so I took a deep breath and forced myself to chill.
“Is it true you’re fucking some young bitch now?”
I didn’t even try to pretend I didn’t know who she was talking about. “Aye, watch who you call a bitch. Matter of fact, who told you that shit?”
“It’s all over the city, Rowdy.”
“Aight.” I didn’t bother to confirm or deny it since it was no one’s business but mine and my girl’s.
My girl.
Fuck.
Even though I told Atlas I wasn’t there yet, I couldn’t help thinking of her as mine already. I didn’t know why I was stalling on making it official. My dick and mind were already there. I just couldn’t get my heart to cooperate. It had been a steel vault before her.
