The Price ࿊f Peace

☮️:016

Somewhere in Oakland
Friday April 26th, 2024

Money was sat at his kitchen table in front of a bucket of soapy water with an old, frayed toothbrush in one hand and one of his Air Force 1s in the other.

Amir was scrubbing away with the toothbrush, relaxed back in his chair, a pre-rolled blunt behind one of his gold studded ears.

He was occupying his mind with cleaning the shoes instead of waiting for Kisses to call him again. She'd been hitting his phone every 30 minutes to an hour since 10 o' clock and chatting his ear off nervously.

He knew her. He could tell she wanted to talk about something, but she was beating around the bush. It was starting to get on Amir's nerves.

He had a feeling what the deal was, but he wasn't planning to speak on it. Unless she called him again.

Her antsiness was damn near contagious. Shit was making him itch.

Like clockwork, the phone rung again.

"For fuck's sake." Money sighed, picking up the phone and pulling it to his ear.

"Wassup, Kisses?" He asked her in a bored, tedium filled tone.

Kisses began to talk about something she knew he didn't care about, a beef in their hood stemming from a party. Obviously, she was trying to distract herself from something. And Amir was over it.

"Oh!" She yelled suddenly, startling Amir a little to the point that some of the bloody suds on his shoe dropped onto his tiled floor under the table.

Amir had just mopped when he woke up at 7, so he wasn't planning to do it again that day. Slowly pulling the phone away from his ear, he placed it on the table, holding the bridge of his nose in an attempt to soothe his irritation.

Picking the phone back up, Amir sat silently on his side of the receiver, patiently waiting for her to be quiet.

"Mind you," she continued, not missing a beat, "he the one who burnt her and she accidentally took it home to her man. Ain' that some shit?"

"Kisses." Amir cut her off with a sigh. "Fuck you keep callin' me for?"

Kisses stalled in her speech, he could hear footsteps stop pacing the room she was in.

Amir was naturally blunt, and in his defense, he had already tried to be patient. Kisses was the closest thing he had to a sister, to be honest, so it was that simple fact that made him remain nice.

Yes, that was him being nice.

Kisses took a moment before sighing, finally letting it out. "Cuban not answering."

Amir shrugged a shoulder, "Okay?"

"No, Money." She tried to clarify. "Cuban hasn't answered since last night when you told me ta' call her."

"I went to her apartment and everything." She told him, her breathing speeding up. "She won't answer."

Kisses was getting anxious again.

"So, what you calling me fa'?" He asked her, returning to the blood spattered shoe he was attempting to scrub clean.

"Camarro already went over there and he said she won't answer for him either." Kisses told Money who was still scrubbing his shoe indifferently. "We don't even know if she's in there."

Amir looked at the time on his screen, 12 o'clock P.M., with a sigh.

"Kisses," Amir cut in, sounding uninterested.