Addicted 2 Moni

Weight of The Truth

For Megdawg23 it's longer now 😂
🚪🤛🏽🚪🤛🏽🚪🤛🏽

Dewayne POV

"Who is it?" I roll over in bed, eyes barely open.

"Aye man, these lil niggas here," Rico says from the other side of the door.

"Aight." I sit up, stretch, then finally push myself to my feet. I throw on a shirt, slide on my slides, and walk out the office.

The crew's already posted up near the front of the warehouse, and a bunch of kids, all different ages and sizes, are standing there like some damn orphan gang. I clock 'em immediately—some with hard eyes, some looking lost, others just tryna hold it together.

"So it's true. You back," one of the older ones says—can't be more than seventeen.

"Yeah," I nod, stepping closer. "This ain't a permanent stay. I'm just here to clean some shit up real quick."

I scan the crew. "Now, which one of y'all is Muhammad?"

A tall, lean kid steps forward—dark skin, probably about 5'11, eyes sharp like he done seen some real shit. "That's me, yo."

"How old are you, son?" I ask, giving his outfit a once-over. Everything on him says struggle but pride.

"Turned eighteen yesterday."

"Word? Happy belated, young blood," I nod. "Lemme ask you somethin... Why you out on the streets?"

He lifts his chin slightly, not cocky—just owning his truth. "Mama's a crackhead. Graduated high school, but after that... didn't have shit. So I hit the block. Took in these kids like my own—ain't nobody else looking out for them."

I glance at the group. Three of 'em gotta be under ten. Four teenage girls, and one of them's clearly pregnant—barely standing straight.

"That yo seed?" I ask, nodding at the girl.

"Nah, that's Talia. She just joined us. Got raped by her pops."

My jaw tightens. "Come here," I say to her, my voice softer now. She hesitates, then steps forward slowly until she's close enough for me to rest my hand gently on her arm.

"How old are you?" I ask.

"Sixteen," she murmurs, eyes cast low, embarrassment all over her.

My chest aches. Shit like this always get me tight in the heart.

"How far along?"

"I don't know. Maybe four, four and a half months."

Some of the crew murmur under their breath. Snoop's already stepping forward.

"Give me your daddy's address," he says, taking her gently by the hand. Talia nods and they walk off without another word. I already know what Snoop bout to do. Ain't no tolerance for that type of evil.

I turn back to Muhammad. "So how you protectin' these kids?"

He lifts his shirt, showing the grip tucked in his waistband. Silver 9mm, like he proud of it. "Taught a few of 'em to shoot, too," he says.

I nod. Kid's real. No doubt about that. He ain't perfect, but he's trying to do right in a world that gave him all wrong.

"Where y'all staying at?" Rico asks, pulling out a wood and sparking it.

"Old movie theater off 5th and Grant," Muhammad replies. I know the one—abandoned for years. No heat, no water. Rough conditions.

"I can get y'all in a better spot," I start.