08 | Chapter Eight
March, 2014 | Brooklyn, New York
Somehow, I found myself back in Brooklyn. It wasn't a mistake, I knew it wasn't for Tyson had texted me early this morning. His text came through at two o'clock in the morning. I wasn't asleep, I hardly went to sleep anymore for there was always something that was pondering in my brain. This time, it was that video from Trader Joe's two days ago. I had seen that jail cell somewhere, there was no doubt about that, but where? That was the only questioned that was left, well at least until I find out more information. I drove their by myself, telling Joey that I was looking for a job. It was probably a dumb move considering Joey knew how long it takes for someone to get through an interview: he had been through them plenty of times. However, I could only pray that he would save his bitching for later.
Tyson's house still looked the same way it did the last time I was here: ghetto.
I rang the doorbell and Tyson answered quickly for he knew that I was coming. I entered into his house, the smell of weed and the sounds of voices and music floating from the kitchen. I sent Tyson a questioning look. This was suppose to be him and I. I didn't already feel comfortable with just him around, now he was adding other people to the group. He walked behind me, gently shoving me towards where the noise was coming from.
"What the hell?" I questioned him.
He didn't answer as he continued to lead me to where the people were: the kitchen. I instantly saw a group of people sitting down on a small round table. There was one person at the stove and two girls sitting on the counter besides them. "Nyson doesn't like that I told you so much about Reid. Whatever he asks you to do, just do it." Tyson whispered in my ear before he headed towards the table where the other's were. By now, I was the topic of discussion as all eyes were averted to me. I glanced around the room. I spotted Tyson and he was sitting next to someone who resembled him heavily.
"Isis, Isis, Isis." stated the boy who resembled Tyson.
He was very fair in completion. Though he looked like Tyson, he was a lot more attractive. He had soft brown hair. His hair was styled back with some gel in what looked like a 60s type of hairstyle. His attractiveness, however, did not stop the fact that he knew my name without me even introducing myself. I took a step back, glaring my eyes at me. "What do you want?" I questioned, crossing my arms. That did me no justice as his eyes averted from mine, and down to my shirt (a white low cut top) where my cleavage was spilling over. It was probably a bad idea for me to wear this out: a shirt and black skater skirt, but I had to make Joey believe I seriously had a job interview.
I dropped my hands to my side.
"I don't know who the hell you're talking to babygirl, this is my house." The stranger insisted as he threw his hands in the air as if to say "look around bitch." I pondered on who this could be again. It wasn't until now that I put two and two together. We were in Brooklyn, and at Harlem Tech, Samantha informed me that Nyson lived in Brooklyn. This stranger lived in Brooklyn, and heavily resembled Tyson.
"Nyson." I stated coldly.
He smirked and nodded. He turned around, heading back towards his seat. "And you seem to know a lot about me, eh? I mean, asking Samantha who Tyson was as if that was going to help you find out where Reid is." Nyson smirked at me. The way he spoke was very cool and calm, and if he wasn't saying such hurtful things, I would probably feel at ease in his presence. And though I didn't know who he was, or what exactly he was capable of, but I knew he was dangerous. If the obvious knife scar raining down his left arm didn't prove it, the fact that he hid a gun in his waistband and a pocketknife in his shirt pocket definitely did. I rolled my eyes. "It was only because you had information on me that no one else did. I was curious. Big deal." I stated averting my eyes away from him. They landed on the two females that were standing by the stove. They looked very mean, the type of people that head gangsters and thugs dated.
