Everybody expected Jalen Carter to crash out after prison. Instead, he came home trying to be a father. Trying to stay free. Trying to move differently. Trying not to lose himself again. But Amir Johnson makes that shit difficult. His best friend has been attached to his side since they were kids, still loud, still reckless, still the only person who can get under Jalen's skin without trying. And the closer they get, the harder it becomes to ignore the tension building between them. Now with his baby mama wanting their family back, old street problems resurfacing, and feelings neither of them knows how to handle... everything they built together could either save them- or destroy them..

he saved me and i saved him📚 Read to find out!!

Copyright. ©️ 2025 All Rights Reserved. She's always been theirs, Even when she didn't know it... They grew up together They protected her while she thought they were abusive.... She left them, They became RUTHLESS. Menace's to society.... Years later, she returns back home, Only to be reminded.... She always been THEIR POSSESSION. Written By: Nilda Jay Began on: 5/28/2025 Completed on: 11/22/2025

"That's the problem now Ian gon keep chasing you forever Ariès, baby getcho shit together" "Ain't nobody gone be as obsessed with you as I am." I told him He smiled "I'm already knowing take these off" Read ig idk bitch I'm bored it's gon be funny tho

"And I'm back wit your hoe, I'm just singing riddles. I'm like '𝘭𝘢-𝘭𝘢-𝘭𝘢', tell ya boyfriend I'll kill'em." © 2022 | ru33ian May 2022 - Present. SLOW UPDATES!

"so you gon up dat bitch on me??" dayvon asked as he stared at harmony like she'd grown another head. "you killed my sister. we'll forever be at war behind that." harmony spat as she held her gun in his face.

"ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ʙᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀʙʏꜱɪᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴɪɢɢᴀ, ᴍᴀ." 17 ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴏʟᴅ, ᴛᴀ'ʀʏᴀ ʜᴏʟᴅᴇɴ, ɴᴇᴇᴅꜱ ᴀ ʙᴀʙʏꜱɪᴛᴛᴇʀ-- ɪꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴏᴍ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʜᴇʀ. ꜱʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ 18, ʙᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. ʜᴇʀ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛᴀ'ʀɪꜱʜᴀ ʜᴏʟᴅᴇɴ, ʜᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴛʀɪᴘ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴡᴀɪɪ. ꜱʜᴇ'ꜱ ʟᴇᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴛᴀ'ʀʏᴀ, ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ᴀ ʙᴀʙʏꜱɪᴛᴛᴇʀ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙᴀʙʏꜱɪᴛᴛᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴠᴇʀʏ ꜱᴇᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴀ ɢᴀɴɢʙᴀɴɢᴇʀ. ʜɪꜱ ɴᴀᴍᴇ, ᴅᴀʏᴠᴏɴ ʙᴇɴɴᴇᴛᴛ, 21. ᴛᴀ'ʀʏᴀ ᴅɪᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ꜱʜᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ɪɴ ꜰᴏʀ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙᴀʙʏꜱɪᴛᴛᴇʀ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀʜᴏʟᴅ ᴏꜰ ʜᴇʀ.

The porch still remembers. The silence still hurts. And him? He ain't dead... but he might as well be.