The Darkest Relations

The Beginning

1

The cool air ran across  my skin as I made the commute home. Why I made the careless decision to walk home in a neighborhood like mine I will never know. Voices of male predators who incessantly roamed the streets when the lights went dim could be overheard throughout all of Louisiana. It's a shame that this is the routine, after the sun goes down no one is safe. It has became such a routine that I had no choice but to show no fear, even if it was slowly consuming me with each step.  The footsteps that approached from behind me did not intimidate me at this point in time, only triggered a increase in speed.

"Adira. Adira." My name was called out. The tone was all too familiar, belonging to the one person who I wanted nothing to do with. "I know ya ass heard me." He growled, followed by his rough hands yanking me by my arm.

It was the exact person I didn't want to see, King. The last person I felt like dealing with. No matter how hard I tried I could never bring myself to hate King. He was irresistible, like he came right out of a magazine. Every NOLA girl wanted a piece of him. He was their dream and I was the one that got to call him mine. A title that held very little weight and did not mean much to him at all. A title that had gained me so many enemies, a title that had so many females would love to have was the same title that did not prevent him from cheating or lying or betraying me. A title that meant nothing to him yet it still managed to call so much heartache and stress. My heart could only take so much of being treated like some type of whore so eventually I packed my bags and left. To bad he did not get the memo.

"What do you want?" I spat at him as I tried to pry his hands off of me with little results. Fighting back was pointless, King was 6'4, 210 pounds, and spent most of his free time in the gym getting stronger, while I was a mere 5'3, 120 pounds, and could barely lift 50 pounds let alone win a fight against a former running back. 

"I want to not have to track down my girl."

"You're not tracking down your girl you're tracking down me,"

"You know what I mean."

"No I don't. I'd appreciate if you'd stop tracking me down. I'm not your girl anymore."

"Mayne stop saying that shit. And stop walking around like ya ass is single when you not. Shanicee got you acting like you ain't got no god damn sense." His jaw clenched in aggravation and his grip around my arm strengthened.

"I got plenty of sense Trevor," I spat while struggling out of his tight grasp.

"Don't call me that shit Adira. You know that ain't my name out in these streets. What I tell you about callin me that?" His eyes darted around, seeking someone who might've heard me but no one was in sight.

"Why Trevor? Are you embarrassed Trevor? I'm so sorry Trevor." I made sure to emphasize each Trevor. Making it clear that I couldn't care less about his empty threats.

"My name is King."

"Your name is Trevor Brad Harrison. You were raised in the suburbs. Even though you claim you're a thug you're not. Don't pull that thug shit on me. It may work for everyone else but I know the truth. You walk around here acting all high and mighty when in reality you're just mooching off of daddy's money."

His light complexion turned a bright shade of red, a clear sign of his intense anger. He took my arm back in his hand, his grip ten times more powerful "Why must you be so damn difficult? Why can't you just listen when I say something? You just always gotta do the opposite and then you wonder why I left you for Angel."King always knew just how to make me push my buttons. The name alone sent chills down my spine. Mother always told me that hate was a strong word and should not be used lightly, that's why I used it to describe my feelings towards her. I never knew what hate was until she did what she did. She portrayed the sweet innocent school girl act but I'm convinced, deep down she's a vixen. It's a shame though because she's actually a very pretty girl , if it wasn't for her committing adultery with my ex there was a possibility that we could have been friends.