Loving A Gangsta

Chapter 14 (Friday)

Marcus's POV

When Ren leaves me, I can't help but feel pissed. She always doing this shit. Always walking away from me and running. That's what started this shit to begin with. If she wouldn't have ran off the first time, then she wouldn't have no reason to be mad, and we would still be good. I ain't no fucking prince charming. I don't chase after females, period.

I walk back to the car to see Trey still leaning on the hood. "Let's go," I say, jumping in.

"What you tell her?" he asks, getting in the passenger seat.

"She really did all the talking. I just told her how I was feeling, but I guess that shit ain't enough for her."

"The problem is, yo' ass keep going soft. She don't want that shit, nigga. How you gonna get with her like that? You gotta tell you ain't feeling her. That shit work with Nia every time," he says, smirking.

I smack my lips. "Nigga, shut yo' ass up. She ain't dumb. I'm just tryna show her that I ain't just messing with her emotions."

"Man, she really got you sprung, and you ain't even hitting that. Even Nia got that good, and I don't think about her twice when I been knowing her damn near all my life," he says, shaking his head.

"Yeah, but Nia a hood beat. Ren different."

"So what. Point is, you ain't even known Ren personally for two months. It's only been one."

"To be honest, I met her a long time ago, when I first got in the hood. I was a sophomore and she was a freshman. I mean, I was always with y'all and shit, but when I got my official, she was there. I talked to her before it happened and liked her ass ever since, but she don't remember," I tell him.

I don't know how a person can forget shit like that, but I guess it was a bad night for her, and I probably wouldn't want to remember it either. Besides, what I'm tripping for? Feeling hurt 'cause a female don't remember when we met. Shit, I don't even be remembering a female's name. I'm surprised I still remember it, so I don't give a damn if she forgot.

"She was watching when you got yo' put on? Damn," he says in shock.

"Hell nah! Her brother would've killed her for watching. She was on her way home from practice, and I gave her ride since I was going to her house anyway. You know what? I ain't telling yo' ass," I say, smacking my lips.

We had a moment that night, and I ain't telling nobody. I was a soft nigga back then. I was fifteen, and it was two weeks after my pops and mom died. I was walking through the hood, and some older niggas pressed me, basically tryna pick a fight. Luckily, Ant was there, and I guess he saw some potential in my soft ass 'cause he stopped them. On the real, I was just some little boy lost, and I had told Ant about everything that got me to that point. He took me in that week, trained me, got me joined in the hood, and raised me in his own house like he was my father. Even got custody of me.

I didn't have no other family, and the social workers was going to put me in the system, so if you think about it, I was blessed to run into the hood. But before I got my put on, Korrine tried to talk me out of it. She didn't want a sweet boy like me, as she called it, to get in a gang and become cold and hard, which I became. She talked about how she seen it happen to her brother and seen the hood kill her pops, and she didn't want the same thing to happen to me. I can't believe she don't remember that shit.

"Fuck it. I don't want to know how you turned into a simp nigga anyway," he jokes. "But you should try to talk to her again if you like her like you say do. They throwing a party tonight. You tryna hit or what?"

"Nigga, you on crutches."

He shrugs his shoulders and smirks. "I'm still sexy. These bitches know what's up."