Insecure (Completed)

25

A/N: Stayyyyy coming for Yaz 😭. She's allowed to give Mari a second chance even if y'all wouldn't 🗣. Aight I'm calm 😊. Short chapter ahead.

Devonte

There was a lotta shit I could have told Yazmine about Malik that I chose to keep to myself. Starting with the fact that Malik was my cousin.

See, people know about the fact that after my momma's suicide, I was taken in by my Aunt and Uncle. That's my pops sister and her husband. They never had kids.

On my mom's side, I had an uncle, who was now dead, a victim of the streets he used to run, and he had a son. That was Malik. Malik was crazy as hell. And even though we were blood cousins, we never had love for each other. Malik was missing a couple screws, and he also was a ruthless nigga. He killed people for fun. His shit never affected me because I did my best to stay out of the drug game.

Andre was another story. It got to a point where Andre had to move outta my Aunty house because of all the beef he had. I ain't even know how it started, but they both did so much grimey shit to each other, it wouldn't end until one of them was dead. I just never expected Amari to bring an old feud to my front door.

This wasn't even about Amari. Yeah, it was fucked up he hit her, but tryna to play a nigga like Malik was real life playing with fire. Hoes loved drug niggas. They loved the money, the luxury, the lifestyle drug niggas provided them. But shit wasn't all dollar signs and champagne. These niggas wasn't sweet. And Malik? Nah there was no way he would just let being hoed slide.

I couldn't tell Yazmine that shit though. Let her think I cared about Mari. I needed Malik dead for other reasons.

I could tell my talk of bullets had Yazmine scared. She knew me as Devonte from Unity college. She ain't know me before I came here. I been through some shit, and there were times I had to do shit that would keep most people up at night. I ain't ask for that life, but I had to live it.

She couldn't relate to my upbringing. As a child, constantly being exposed to all the fighting and shooting gangbangers did. Even what happened to my sister, though I wasn't really a witness. I knew why niggas did it: for the money. And I never wanted for anything as a child, except maybe some acknowledgement from my father.

When he got locked up, our whole lifestyle changed. We ain't have the latest shit, we barely had food and the lights on. So Andre got back into the streets, first just as a corner boy, then working his way to being one of the most powerful niggas in the game.

I loved my brother. And I knew he was willing to let me in on his empire, but that wasn't what I wanted. I ain't want success off of drugs. Most niggas could achieve that. I ain't wanna always be looking over my shoulder. I ain't wanna be just another nigga selling drugs. I wanted more.

While Yazmine took her shower, I dialed Andre. "What's up, Lil bruh?"

"Nun good. Malik back."

"Fuck! His ass supposed to be dead!" That's another thing I hadn't told Yaz. Andre shot the fuck outta Malik two years ago, and nobody had heard from him since.

"Well he ain't. He beat the shit outta my girl's friends. Or used to be friends or some shit."

"Fuck is he doing on that side of town? This shit not good at all. I thought we deaded that nigga."

That was yet another thing Yazmine didn't need to know. The night they shot Malik, I was there. The first and last shootout I was ever apart of. My ass ain't even mean to be there. You hear about being at the wrong place at the wrong time? That was me, that night. Next thing I knew, bullets were flying. I wasn't strapped, I never needed to be. That night, I never wished so hard for a gun.

I thought I was gonna die. I was seventeen, and I thought I was about to die. The drug game? It was some scary shit. It wasn't nothing to be proud of.

The drug game wasn't made for everyone. It was death, and drugs, and money, and betrayal, but mostly just death. Sleeping with one eye open type shit. That's not what I wanted in life. I wanted something different, which is why I came to college.

"Well dead him again, damn."

"Aight, Tae. See if ol' girl knows where he be at. Oh and pops got his release date. Aunty told me you coming home Thursday. Well, so is he."

"Yeah well I ain't thankful for that." I hung up, wishing everything wasn't starting to become so complicated. Going to college was supposed to be my chance to focus on my school, and my music, and my football. But the past loved to creep up on a nigga.

A nigga was stressed. I had hoes tryna pin babies on me, a girlfriend I wasn't being transparent with, a cousin I wanted dead, a father getting out of jail, and a brother who put drugs on the streets. Add that to the fact that midterms were coming up and I ain't know what the fuck was going on in Spanish.

I needed to smoke. I found my stash and lit up, feeling my mind ease as my high kicked in.

By the time Yazmine came out of the shower, smelling like flowers that I couldn't recall the names of, I was floating.

To my surprise, Yazmine ain't even say nothing. She been told me she wasn't really into smoking or drinking so I expected her to at least throw some shade. Instead, she reached for the blunt, and I gave it to her.

She inhaled, and coughed a bit, but inhaled again. Soon we had a rhythm going. Inhale, exhale, pass.

"You know Trey ain't wanna let me smoke with him," she said lazily. She was tracing circles on my chest.

"Word?" Inhale.

"Yeahhh," she laughed. "Talking about he don't wanna corrupt me."

Exhale.

"So I guess that means I'm corrupting you then," I stated.

Pass.

"I don't mind when you corrupt me," she whispered.

Damn, looking into those eyes, with all that black hair falling down her back, and that flimsy shirt riding up, I didn't mind it either.

I was trying to corrupt her with my dick.

And when we finished the blunt, she let me.

A/N: The past wont let my nigga Devonte go y'all 😭 He don't wanna be in the game, he just wanna rap and go to class, but sometimes you can't hide from the thing you hate most