At 17, Candyce's small worldview is maginifed when her big brother, Ace, invites her into his world as punishment. Ace may have been an overbearing big brother at home, but in the streets he was feared and respected as a young drug dealer, proving h...
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Chapter 5
"Candyce, now that you in this, I can't have none of this getting back to mama, you heard me?"
I roll my eyes. This was the third time Ace has warned me and it was honestly getting insulting at this point. I'm Santana's child too. I may be green to the drug game but the no-snitching rule been instilled in us since we started talking. No tattle-telling. If somebody did something to you, you handled that shit. If not, Daddy was gonna' handle you. He treated all of us like that. He never played that double-standard bs. And I'm actually glad for it. Cause now I can tell Ace to get the fuck off my back about shit I already know.
"Ace, I'm not no bird. Mama don't gotta know nothing. I wish I ain't know nothing, so why would I bring her into this?" I cross my arms over my chest.
"Besides, she'll kill both of us before Jefe gets a chance," I add.
Ace gives me a death glare, "Don't play like that. Angel ain't killing nobody in our circle."
I wrinkle my nose, "Angel?"
Ace nods his head while he puts a light to the blunt hanging from his lips.
"Yeah. No more of that 'Jefe' shit. That nigga ain't my boss no more," He says.
I laugh to myself. Ace blows smoke out his nose.
"What's funny?" He asks.
"Nothing," I say.
"What, you think this shit a joke?"
I roll my eyes.
"I just thought it was funny that we being threatened by a nigga named Angel. You know, angel of death and all," I say.
"It's all fun and games until he pulls the trigger next time," Ace says.
Was that really necessary?
"Learn how to take a joke, Ace, damn," I say.
"Aight. Next time I'ma be too busy laughing to stop him from killing you," Ace says.
"What happened to 'Angel ain't killing nobody in our circle'?" I ask.
"You wouldn't even be included in that if you wasn't sneaking out to wrap yo body around a pole," Ace says.
"Stripper, Ace. It's okay to say that I was a stripper."
"Yeah, well you just another name on Angel's hit list now," He says.
I act like I don't hear him mumble, "and it's all my fault," at the end of that sentence.
I stare out the shop window, tweaking for Caesar to pull up. He had dumped us at this coffee shop in the French Quarters while he went to handle something at one of the trap spots. He didn't specify what exactly the deal was, but Ace didn't question him so neither did I. I know Caesar and Ace were made to be some sort of business partners, but to me, it looked like Caesar did the bitch work Ace didn't feel like doing. Not to say he didn't have status. But whatever problem they had the trap, Caesar's phone rang, not Ace's. It's like even the men knew not to bring the bullshit to Ace.
