✔Paint Me a Murder | Book 1

Chapter 7: Meet the Gang

The high made Kazimir feel invincible, like he could conquer the entire world then enjoy some donuts afterward. It tricked his mind into making him strong, when in reality, the drug weakened him.

What happened to his goal of moving someplace new to start over? Kazimir couldn't remember when he gave up on himself again.

The buzz still lingered, but the intensity of the high had faded. Emmett pushed himself off the bed, moving over to the window to close it after he'd finished his smoke. Kazimir's gaze lingered on the popcorn ceiling as realization settled in.

He'd agreed to join a dangerous gang. Probably not the wisest choice on his end, but he'd made worse mistakes while high.

A noteworthy one being the time he tried to steal some drawing pens and a pack of honey buns at a little shop back home. He was lucky the security guard didn't have him arrested by the police when he hid behind the register counter, as if nobody witnessed him crawl across the floor to evade them. Kazimir was too embarrassed to ever show his face at that store again.

"You wanna meet some of the other gang members?" Emmett asked.

The room spun around as Kazimir sat up. He blinked a few times, letting everything settle back into place. "Right now?"

Emmett nodded. "Yeah. I think Charlie and Alfie are still downstairs. They were eating breakfast in the lounging area."

Those names weren't familiar to Kazimir. What kind of people were they? Jordy had told him how vicious gang members could be. He'd always warned him to stay away from the gangs. Perhaps Kazimir needed to learn how to listen better. What if they tried to beat him up or force him out of their place?

Kazimir rubbed at his bare arms, covered in old track marks. The rainbow heart tattoo on his wrist stuck out amid the scarring. "Should I be worried? What are they like? I don't want to make a bad first impression."

"Don't worry. You'll be fine," Emmett replied. "Just ignore the fat one."

Kazimir frowned at that. "Fat one? That's mean."

"You'll see what I mean," Emmett replied, making his way around the bed to stand in front of Kazimir. "Come on. I promise they won't hurt you."

After considering it, Kazimir succumbed. He stuck close to Emmett like a new stray puppy as he led him down their turf's hallway. Marijuana drifted through the room as they stepped inside. A plasma screen television adorned the wall, playing a football game on mute. The coffee table wedged between two old couches was covered with magazines of naked ladies and drink coasters with beers.

Kazimir felt so small compared to the two rough-looking dudes on the couches. He cowered behind Emmett, gripping the tail of the gangster's black shirt like a safety blanket. He wanted to curl up and hide in bed. Would those guys try to jump him if they didn't want him there? There was no way Kazimir could fend either of them off in a fight.

"You should've saw it. I ain't never saw a guy lose conscious so fast. I had him in a headlock, begging me to let him go. Motherfucker even pissed his pants. Can you believe it?" Obnoxious laughter filled the room.

Kazimir trembled behind Emmett as he peeked out to see the white, beefy man with a neck beard talking, taking small breaks to stuff his BBQ pork sandwich in his mouth. He had tattoos everywhere, but the one that stuck out most to Kazimir was the one on his forehead that read: Thug Life. He dropped bits of pork on his white shirt, then picked it off to eat it.

"Yo, Emmett! You should've saw me beating the shit outta that bitch – who the fuck is that?" He waved a chubby finger in Kazimir's direction. "How many times do we gotta tell you to keep your boyfriends to yourself?  This ain't a brothel, you know?"