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 25
Under the white and blue strobe lights, it's easy to relish in the success of opening my own club. The dancefloor is packed with brown and black bodies rubbing against each other. Trap music pours from the DJ's speakers, bursting whatever is left of the eardrum I had from waiting by the train with Caesar. Tight, bodycon dresses mix and mash with classy T-shirts and designer shoes and a part of me is happy with the turn out. Then, I look over at Simon at the bar in his black jeans and black T-shirt and the success of the night doesn't feel quite the same.
As usual, he's scouting the club with a grim look on his face. For the first time in a long time, his hair is tamed into long braids. I guess it's his way of making an effort towards the classy dresscode I enforced for the club. His all-black ensemble is tied together with black and white Vans so his fashion statement ain't saying much. Still, the nod to his former self by way of the braids, makes up for his lazy attempt at elevating his everyday look.
I must stare at him for a second too long, because he sees me and raises a drink in my direction. There's a half-smile on his face that I don't return. I'm too busy focusing on the brown liquor in his glass.
Since taking the time to watch him at the trap yesterday, I've been compiling all the things that make up Simon to see if I get a clear image of Daddy. The murder of the crackhead was more than an indication of the DNA coursing through his veins but so was his cool and calm collection of himself afterwards. I've never seen Daddy exhibit the kind of rage the streets glorify when talking about him. But I can only imagine it looked a little like Simon losing control yesterday.
And as bad as yesterday seems, it wouldn't be the first time Simon showed signs of explosive behavior. All those fights I overheard between him and Mama makes sense now. I'd be pulled awake by Simon losing his temper and Mama screaming at him until her voice went hoarse, all 'cause Simon wouldn't stop stealing from stores. The fights plus the damage to the cop cars that led to his arrest feels like blaring warning signs that I chose to ignore.
After watching him kill someone in a crowded neighborhood, I can't keep looking the other way. I can't force myself to look away from the drink in his hand either. If it's true that he does have a bipolar disorder, then alcohol will only add fuel to the fire.
Simon's smile grows worry lines at the corners of his mouth the longer I stare at him. I'm about to walk over to him when Caesar occupies the space next to me, blocking my view of Simon.
"I been looking for you since you opened the doors. I'm starting to think you been ducking me," He says.
Unease settles in the pit of my stomach having him stand so close to me. For once, his presence doesn't incite the kind of stomach ache that usually comes with butterflies. Nah, this is straight stomach flu virus type of disgust. Those five words beside Keyana's name in his phone clouds my vision, making me regret ever letting him back into my life-- let alone, back into my club.
