In These Streets

Chapter 6

I slept through the afternoon and woke up around supper time, feeling much more refreshed and like myself.

My mother and Tadeus were still out, and I hurried to shower and get ready for the dinner Genesis invited me to.

I put my hair into a slick high ponytail. I had a pair of simple gold hoop earrings that I thought would be nice and opted for tight hugging jeans that flattered my butt and a sheer black top that was strapless. This time I wore my white stilettos.

Checking myself in the mirror, I was satisfied, feeling a bit sexy and risqué.

I looked at the clock, having enough time to write a note to my mother that I would be out late, though I knew she would be angry.

If I had disobeyed her back in Salt Lake, I would have already endured her wrath many times over, but because of everything that had happened, she was very different now. She no longer had the energy to be completely enraged with me for going out without telling her my whereabouts or breaking her rules in general. She would get angry and deflate, retreating back into her shell.

I quickly penned the note, placing it on the kitchen table as I heard a slight honk of a car horn outside. I grabbed my purse and sauntered out into the perfect California evening, the sun just beginning to set.

I reached Genesis's Toyota, settling into the passenger seat.

"Shit, Ambra, you look like a snack. You sure you don't like pussy?" Genesis joked as she pulled away from the curb.

Whatever business had consumed her earlier was obviously taken care of.

I laughed, feeling happy and surprisingly at ease, something that almost shocked me because it was so rare now.

"I'm sure," I replied, thinking back to Darius and his god-like features.

Anticipation blossomed inside me as I reminded myself that I would get to see him soon.

"Where are we going? I thought we were going to Darius's place for dinner?" I asked after a few minutes, noticing we were heading northeast instead of the opposite direction toward Lynwood.

Genesis snorted.

"Oh, it's Darius, is it? Iceman told you his name and gave you permission to call him that? What the fuck happened between you two last night?"

I glanced over at her, but she kept her eyes on the road, wearing a bemused expression.

"Nothing.... I, we... kissed," I mumbled, looking out the passenger window.

She didn't seem surprised by my confession.

"Iceman is my boss, and I would take a bullet for that nigga for all the shit he's done for me, but I think you're mad cool, Ambra. I'm just telling you this so you don't get all your emotions and shit fucked up. Don't think that shit means anything. I've known Iceman for years, and he has fucked lots of chicks. If he's interested in you, it's just momentarily for your kitty."

Her words stung, piercing me in my chest, but it wasn't completely unexpected. It was obvious Darius was a womanizer, but Genesis's confirmation still disappointed me and any hope of getting to know him better slowly dissipated.

"The house in Lynwood is Iceman's, but that's not his main crib. Strictly for parties and shit. The crib he lives in is in Beverly Hills," Genesis continued, oblivious to my deflated attitude.

"Beverly Hills?" I blurted.

"You'll see." She grinned mischievously at me.

"Dar - I mean Iceman has two houses? What does he even do for a living?"

"You'll have to ask him that; it ain't my place to tell you," she said, keeping her eyes on the road.

She didn't give me a chance to say anything else because she turned up her stereo system, Tupac's voice filling the car.

We drove in silence through the streets of Los Angeles, everywhere teeming with life on a Saturday night. Long, slim palm trees swayed gently, illuminated by the streetlights, and skyscrapers rose into the sky, all lit up like tall beacons. Pedestrians and cars littered every block, people heading out on the scene to experience The City of Angels and its nightlife.

Everything was a cacophony of lights and sounds and smells.

After an hour, we drove into Beverly Hills, with rolling green hills and quaint vegetation, passing the famous Rodeo Drive.

The area was evidently familiar to Genesis, who confidently weaved the car through traffic, taking a long street that branched up through a hill.

A few minutes later, she pulled into a driveway that was gated and stopped beside a console box that had a speaker and a number panel.

She efficiently punched in a series of numbers and the gate slid open. The driveway wound around some thick foliage and thirty seconds later we pulled up into the circular driveway.

Killing the music by turning the car off, Genesis opened her car door and gave me a wink.

"Welcome to Iceman's crib."

"Holy shit," I murmured breathlessly.