Page 1 of Cause When You Love Someone
Chapter 1
Ishmael
So Far Gone/ Fast Life Bluez
As I hopped out of my F-150, I prayed I didn’t have to kill anyone on the Lord’s Day. A call from my little sister pulled me out of bed sooner than I was ready, and the mention of our mama’s boyfriend acting like a fool prompted me to grab my burner and take a trip to the projects.
After eleven years of dealing with the same shit, one would think I would be used to visiting the hellhole to mediate the beef between my mama and her favorite crackhead, but convincing two lost souls they shouldn’t be together never got old.
“What’s up, Ishmael!”
I lifted my head toward the clear sky, acknowledging the corner boy sitting on the hood of an abandoned car. Though I didn’t associate with many who lived in the Paradise Projects, I knew most of the people who roamed the premises. Despite its name, the low-income building provided everything but the essence of a getaway. Profanity and noise from disobedient children filled the air. Unkempt grass littered with broken toys and beer cans brought down the property value. People treated the territory like a landfill, and on any given day, the block resembled a scene fromThe First 48.
My mom’s unit was located on the first floor, which made it easy to hear her and Khalil argue as I stepped into the building.
“I’m serious this time! You gotta find somewhere else to stay. I can’t do this shit no more!”
“You don’t have a choice, Mariah! I ain’t going nowhere. My mail comes here. You can’t put me out.”
I released a closed-mouth chuckle, hearing the high school dropout assert his dominance. He couldn’t find time to fill out a job application, but he had time and the desire to research something that only benefited him—go figure.
“Khalil!”I heard my sister yell.“You are getting on my nerves, and I know you stole my money. I need to wash. Give it back and leave!”
The tremble in Isabella’s voice added speed to my stride.
“Little girl, stay in a child’s place! I didn’t take shit from you, but if I chose to, oh well. Everything under this roof belongs to me.”He paused.“And I do mean everything.”
The loaded statement put my Nike slides into sport mode. My back teeth rubbed together as my mind jumped to conclusions. I marched through the partially open door and invaded their incomplete circle in the center of the living room.
Red bruises riddled my mom’s light skin, and her short hair reached for the popcorn ceiling, like the outside of a porcupine. Khalil’s dark skin appeared moist, and his wet tank top hung low like he had been chewing on it. Swiftly, my focus jetted to Isabella. Aside from her slender nostrils dancing from anger, the petite princess appeared untouched.
“You good, Izzy?” I asked, studying her face.
“I’m all right. I would be better if he”— she looked at Khalil—“gave me my money. I know he has it.”
I pulled my beanie down until it touched my brows. “How do you know that?”
“Because his dumb ass?—”
“Watch your mouth. You’re too pretty to speak that way.”
She threw her hands in the air as a whistle slipped through her lips. “I don’t want to hear that, Ish. He came in here, talking about where I keep my stash. When I went to check it, the box had nothing inside. I even changed the spot every few days like you told me, and he still got me!”
I stared between my mom and her moron. Khalil sported a straight face, yet the woman who birthed me couldn’t even look at me. She also could hardly keep her eyes open. I snarled, thinking about how the brickhouse had downgraded to a hut. The glow that once painted her skin had turned into a shadow. Her raccoon eyes spoke louder than she did most days, and patches of missing hair made her look sick. Had she not been the root of my nightmares, I may have had sympathy for her.
I grimaced. “You are one cold bitch. You stole from your child? You’ve been doing the same shit for almost thirty years.”
Isabella’s arms collapsed to her sides as the light in her honey-colored eyes dimmed a few notches. “Wait. What?”
“Tell her what you did, Mariah,” I demanded without raising my voice.
My mom waved me off and wandered over to the couch with a cigarette between her index and middle fingers. “Ishmael, your tall ass may be able to punk people in the streets, but your four-eyed ass don’t run shit in here! I keep telling you, Izzy doesn’t need all the money you give her. She’s starting to be tight like your cheap ass, and we got bills.”
“Youhave bills,” I clarified. “I don’t give my sister money to take care of two bums who don’t want to do shit with their lives. You’re not turning my bread into pills.” Khalil’s low growl caught my attention. “Do we have a problem?” I quizzed.
“Your mouth is the problem. Watch how you speak to?—”
I snatched the gun from the waistband of my sweatpants and shut down his empty threat. “If I ever hear you say some shit thatinsinuates you can or will violate my sister, I will kill you and everyone close to you,” I declared, cutting my gaze in Mariah’s direction. “Izzy, go put on a sweater and some shoes. We’re about to step out for a few.”
