SAVAGE

15

The door opened and revealed Sawyer. He stood there with his eyes planted on Jersey who answered to his knock. She was a beautiful sight to see—In his opinion. She was covered in a sweatshirt with some sweatpants. Still, she managed to look good in her casual fit. Her short hair was moisturized and defined with big, spiral curls that seemed to frame her gorgeous, brown skin.

"Damn..." Sawyer cursed under his breath. He had witnessed a lot of beauties in Brooklyn, but Jersey was rare. She was different to him—her beauty was just unmatched. She was tall with a slim built. She had unique features like her oval shaped face, cartoony-brown eyes, dark, heart-shaped lips, a wide nose, large ears that protruded a little, and deep dimples that sunk in both sides of her cheeks.

Suddenly, Kelli raised up from the couch and made her way over. She stood beside her friend, looking like a beauty as well. She stood there with her colored weave pulled into a bun. Kelli had a small, narrow nose with pouty, thick lips and a full face. Her caramel skin was blessed with a tattoo that sat on her wrist. It said—Robenne—her mother's name with a small heart.

Sawyer could sense a big difference between the two women just by their looks. Kelli was the wild one, while Jersey was the laidback. Kelli looked as if she loved going to parties and turning up as if she was the only person in the room whilst Jersey looked as if she was more of a stand-offish person who liked to observe the scene before making any moves.

"So, you're Sawyer?" Kelli questioned him nosily. She made sure to examine the guy thoroughly. He was a handsome dude—long, neat dreads, beautiful skin, nice height and body. He had a baby-face, which had her questioning his age.

"The one and only, baby." Sawyer replied while spreading his arms.

"Cocky, much?" Kelli asked while raising her eyebrows.

"Nah, I'm just letting you know. I'm the one and only." Sawyer replied coolly. "I'm far from cocky."

"Uh, this is my best friend—Kelli." Jersey interjected, wanting to change the subject.

"Nice to meet you."

Kelli pursed her lips and said, "Mm-hmm...so let me ask you this, Sawyer? How old are you?"

Silence fell upon them as they looked at each other. Jersey stared at Sawyer attentively, as if she would miss him stating his age. She waited patiently for him to say something, but she knew he was going to respond with some bullshit when he leaned his head to the side and sucked his teeth.

"I'm nineteen." Sawyer replied, feeling some kind of way. He didn't like exposing his age to people.

"Nineteen?" Kelli reiterated while gaping her mouth. She glanced over at Jersey who wore a slight frown on her face. "b***h, you knew?"

"No, I—I didn't." Jersey countered while looking at Sawyer. "Why didn't you tell me you were nineteen?"

"I didn't think the s**t would matter." Sawyer remarked. "Why you tripping? I'm still older than you."

The girls looked at each other in suspense and Kelli couldn't help but to laugh. She pissed Sawyer off and she could tell he was upset by the way his face softly flushed. His tan skin couldn't hide his feelings at all.

"Actually, I'm older than you." Jersey informed him. "I'm twenty-two."

Sawyer couldn't believe his eyes. All this time he thought that Jersey was younger than him. Judging from her youthful face and physique, he assumed she was at least seventeen or eighteen.

"Shit..." Sawyer trailed off. "Is it gone' be a problem with us?"

"I mean—"

"Hell yeah." Kelli interjected her girl with a head nod. "You cannot date a child, Jersey."

"I ain't no f*****g kid." Sawyer cursed while drawing his eyebrows together.

"Kelli, just let me handle it." Jersey pleaded with a look of irritation on her face. "We're not even dating."

"You cannot date a kid, Jersey." Kelli repeated while putting emphasis on every word.

Jersey was tired of Kelli being in her business. She rolled her eyes, shifted her weight on her right leg and said, "For the last time—we are not dating. We're just going out for food. Now get out of my business." Kelli turned her nose up when she noticed her friend pointing towards the couch.

"That's how you really feel? Okay. Well, go ahead then."

"Come on." Jersey instructed Sawyer as she made her way outside the door.

Sawyer couldn't lie and say he wasn't offended by Kelli. In his opinion, she made him feel like his age was a problem. He felt like it wasn't a problem at all. He was a grown ass man who had his own s**t.

_____________________________

Malcolm leaned on the archway, basically taking the scene in. The lights inside the room flickered on and off due to the faulty wiring. The building was old, large, and infested with critters. Roaches and rats scrammed around in excitement, the wiring was exposed from the roof and looked chewed through. The carpet smelled of mildew and was pulled up—thanks to the rats. Everything was terrible about the place—from the broken furniture, to the exposed pipes that could be seen from the ceiling.

"So, why am I here?" Malcolm questioned his workers. His voice sounded so authoritative and serious. He had a deep voice that was raspy yet attractive.

"We found some shit." Q, Malcolm's worker announced while holding his hand out. Q was one of Malcolm's enforcers. He worked alongside Micah, who was also an enforcer.

Malcolm looked over and noticed the burner. He narrowed his eyes in suspense since it was the same burner that he gave to Rudy. He examined the two men before speaking.

"Where did y'all find this?"

"Deshawn's house." Micah answered while looking at his boss and friend with a nonchalant expression. "He had it buried under a lot of dirty s**t in his hiding spot."

Malcolm narrowed his eyes in suspense. He was looking for the killer and the killer was right in his face all along. He grabbed the phone and it revealed some interesting facts. Deshawn was the troll. He sent Jersey the messages. Malcolm looked away from the phone and allowed his hand to tighten around it.

The messages told everything: Deshawn killed Rudy in the apartment building. Deshawn sent those threatening messages to Jersey.

"Wake that nigga up."

"Don't mind if I do." Micah replied as he looked around the room, which made Malcolm give him a suspicious look. Micah grabbed a bucket that was sitting in the corner, basically catching the water from the dirty, leaking roof. The water overflowed in the bucket and it was brown from being inside a filthy container. Bugs floated at the top, along with a putrid smell.

Swish!

Deshawn moved around in distress as he tried his best to catch his breath and fight the water off. He gurgled and groaned as if he was really drowning, which caused Micah to laugh out. Both Malcolm and Q stayed quiet. They figured Micah would pull a crazy stunt—he was the extreme one.

"Wake your ass up, it's judgement time." Micah continued.

Deshawn's eyes fluttered as he looked around. He leaned his over and groaned out in pain. He had been beaten severely by both men—Micah and Q. One of his eyes was swollen and raw. He had a large gash on the right side of his forehead. His face was swollen, due to being punched multiple times. He looked over at Malcolm with his good eye that was still bruised.

Malcolm moved from the archway and made his way over with ease. He stood there with his hands in his pockets, observing the battered guy. He didn't want to say too much, only enough to leave Deshawn with.

"You killed Rudy..." He trailed off. "And terrorized his cousin. Why?"

Deshawn was stubborn and mean. Even in his condition, he still decided to withhold information from Malcolm.

Micah grabbed his chin roughly, causing the guy to yelp out. "He asked you a question motherfucka, so answer it."

Deshawn huffed and puffed in pain while doubling his lips. As he huffed, blood splattered from his mouth, causing Micah to slap him for getting it on his hand.

"Chill the f**k out." Malcolm ordered while holding his hand up. "I want to hear what he has to say."

"He wasn't saying shit..." Micah trailed off, feeling angry. "Answer him b***h ass nigga before I cut yo' tongue out."

Deshawn gulped down his bloody saliva, it tasted like he had swallowed a bunch of old pennies. He looked over at Malcolm and gave him a stern look.

"You might as well answer my question." Malcolm spoke calmly while fidgeting the ring on his right, ring finger. He looked serious and the words that left his mouth sounded serious too.

"I w—was ordered to—by Nieko." Deshawn spilled, wheezing out in pain.

"And did the fat fucker tell you to harass his cousin or is that just something you wanted to do?"

"Bi—b***h was getting herself involved." He struggled to speak as his voice cracked with every word.

"Curiosity killed the cat, huh?" Malcolm recited, bringing up the old text that Deshawn had sent to Jersey. The badly beaten man looked over at Malcolm nonchalantly. He didn't have any regrets at all. He felt like Jersey was trying to intervene in Rudy's situation, so he looked at her as a witness.

"And you thought you could get away with stealing my truck." Malcolm continued in a calm tone. "The truck...had nothing on it. But you figured it would be some money or drugs on it, right?"

The room was quiet, a little too quiet for Malcolm's liking. He doubled his lips at the battered guy before him and balled his fist in anger.

"Right!" Malcolm exploded. "You figured you made a quick lick off me!"

"I—I did." Deshawn agreed. "T—too bad I only got a case of vodka."

Malcolm sighed drastically while leaning his head over. He rubbed his eyeballs, trying his best to relieve the tension and stress. He looked over at Micah, shooting him a veiled glance before looking back over at Deshawn.

"He's useless..." Malcolm spoke clearly while swallowing his spit. "Get rid of him."

Micah wasted no time following Malcolm's orders. He pulled his gun out and aimed it at Deshawn's head. When Malcolm turned around, he heard the quiet zaps of the gun.

Zap, zap, zap!

Micah had handled it.

Deshawn was gone.

Before walking over the threshold, he turned around and eyed both Q and Micah. His thick, naturally arched eyebrows drew together in suspense. "Find Neiko's army...I want them dead. All of them. Spread the word—get everybody together."

That was the mission. The people who worked for Nieko had to go. Malcolm couldn't risk letting them live, that was never in his plan.

_____________________________

Sawyer knew his way around Manhattan, so he took Jersey to this quaint pizzeria place. She wasn't expecting much, but she wasn't expecting him to take her to a pizza joint. It was called Patruno's Pizzeria—a small, shop that was located between a bookstore and a fitness center.

The place was owned by Italians, a family with wholesome spirits. They made sure to provide great service to their customers and they treated everyone with respect. They had been in the same spot for over forty years and was very popular for their great food.

Jersey was impressed with the shop. It had a cool, rustic style. Bistro décor covered the faux, brick walls. The shop had simple, wood floorings that looked spick and span. The bar was in the front, along with the menu to order anything you wanted.

Both Jersey and Sawyer copped a square-shaped table that was decorated with a red and white tablecloth. As soon as they sat down, a waitress waltzed over and happily took their order. The pair sat in silence since the awkward tension was still there. Kelli had ruined Sawyer's day and Jersey silently contemplated on her relationship with him. She was trying to convince herself that his age didn't bother her, but deep down inside, it did.

She wasn't really an expert in dating, but she preferred older men.

Why? She was just attracted to them. They had more wisdom and experience. Dating or conversing with a younger guy just didn't seem right to her. In her mind, Sawyer reminded her so much of her brother—Laurence. She hadn't seen her brother in years, but he just reminded her of him. Both Laurence and Sawyer were closer in age.

Jersey looked over at him and watched as he tapped away on his phone. She took the opportunity to fully check him out. Sawyer's long locks was neatly plaited. He barely had facial hair, but he did have brown stubbles of hair growing on his chin. He narrowed his dark brown eyes in concentration as he stared into his phone.

The man was fine as hell...maybe his age wouldn't be a problem for Jersey.

Soon, the waitress brought over their drinks. A lemonade for Jersey and a coke for Sawyer. Finally, he pulled his attention away from his phone and pulled his straw out of the paper. He dropped it in his glass and darted his eyes over at Jersey who was busy opening her straw as well.

He looked over at her beauty. Jersey was a laidback woman—a minimalist. She wore no makeup, but that didn't take away from her natural beauty. Her skin was blemish free—thanks to her good genes and daily consumption of water. She sat there looking like something was disturbing her—it was written all over her face. Her wide nose wrinkled in disappointment.

"I'm not trying to be rude." He announced while licking his bottom lip. "I was just checking some s**t out."

She darted her eyes left to right and cleared her throat before speaking. "Oh—okay."

Sawyer sat up in his seat and leaned over a little. "I don't want to be disrespectful to you."

Jersey raised her eyebrows and darted her eyes over at her drink. Expertly rotating her straw around, she swirled the ice with the fresh, squeezed lemonade.

"I think you already did that. You practically ignored me the whole ride over here." She reminded him casually.

Sawyer was so upset and embarrassed by Kelli that he ended up taking it out on poor Jersey. She asked him a question in the car, and he replied hastily, causing her to give him a look. After that, they stayed quiet for the entire ride. She quickly noted to herself that she would never go out with him again, but her feelings changed once she realized why his behavior was so hostile. Obviously, Kelli had bruised his ego from humiliating him about being young.

"My bad." Sawyer apologize while dropping into his seat. He intertwined both of his hands as he eyed Jersey attentively. "I was still f****d up about what happened."

"Why are you letting this get to you?" Jersey asked while moving her shoulders.

"Because your friend humiliated me." He remarked while flaring his nostrils. The memory replayed over and over in his head, making him madder.

"Kelli is Kelli, Sawyer. I'm sure she doesn't really care about your age."

Sawyer nodded his head as if he agreed with Jersey, but he didn't. He swiped his tongue over his teeth and sat back up, getting in real close to her. "Tell me this, Jersey. How do you feel about my age?"

Her eyes darted left to right in suspicion. She had been thinking about his age since the silent car ride. Jersey folded her arms and sighed deeply before speaking.

"I don't know, Sawyer..." She trailed off in confusion.

"Shit..." Sawyer cursed, feeling more humiliated and down. Rejection was something he didn't like, and it caused him to grow hotheaded. The muscles in his jaw tighten in irritation as he narrowed his eyes.

"I mean..." Jersey trailed off again, trying to reason with him. The look on his face scared her and it looked too familiar. Whenever she said something Quintin didn't like, he would get upset and knock her upside her head. Malcolm gave her that same look whenever he was in one of his moods. She let out a shaky breath, trying her best to calm down. She had to tell herself that she was in a public place and Sawyer wouldn't dare hit her with a lot of people around. Hell, he probably wouldn't even touch her at all. Jersey's opinion.

"It's just that, you remind me so much of my brother since you're closer to his age." She admitted, fidgeting with her fingers. "And—and I can't see you as a guy I would date."

"Damn, you laying it thick?" Sawyer expressed. "I remind you of your brother?"

"Sawyer, I don't know what you want from me. But I specifically told you that I wasn't looking for a relationship when we first met each other." Jersey recounter, thinking about the first time she had an encounter with Sawyer. "Right now, I'm trying to get into college and...make a living for myself."

He nodded his head in agreement while rubbing the thin patch of hair that sat on his chin. Slowly but surely, he calmed down. He realized he was frightening Jersey, from the look of slight terror that had her pushing into her seat.

"I just hope...this doesn't affect anything." She spoke up while eyeing him.

"I just wanted to get to know you." Sawyer stated, scoffing a little. "I mean—I really liked you. But it's cool, I understand."

Silence rushed over them as the waitress walked over with two personal-size pizzas. Expertly, she sat each personal, wooden pizza platter down and asked if they needed anything else. Jersey said no and thanked the kind woman for her services.

When she left, Jersey pushed her pizza near her face and watched as the steam rose from the delicious looking pizza. The round, dough was baked to perfection with just a bit of crustiness and brownness. The Neapolitan pizza was covered in tomatoes, basil, and delicious melted mozzarella cheese.

Jersey broke away from her pizza and looked over at Sawyer who was busy cutting into his. A look of solemn stitched his face, causing her to draw her eyebrows together. She parted her lips to speak while grabbing her utensils that was wrapped neatly in a napkin.

"We can still get to know each other...as friends." She dictated while giving him an assuring look.

Sawyer didn't reply quickly. He took a bite from his pepperoni pizza and chomped on it before speaking. "So, are you turning me down because you and Malcolm have something going on?"

Jersey was taken aback by Sawyer's question. She tried to remain calm and not reveal anything, but she could see through him. He was being petty and pretty much acting his age—nineteen.

She drew her eyebrows together and asked, "What makes you think we have something going on?"

"Well s**t, he's doing every damn thing for you. Like you his girl or something. Got you staying in that nice ass apartment in the Upper East." He ranted while eyeing her suspiciously. 

"You're making me think you f*****g him or something. I know one thing—the rent aint cheap there."

Jersey swallowed the rest of her food, swiped her tongue over her teeth while wiping her mouth with a napkin. She pointed her finger at Sawyer, and said, "I'm not f*****g Malcolm." She replied honestly while frowning "...You just said that you understand me, Sawyer. And yet you're sitting here acting your age. You're letting your feelings get in the way."

"That's something I have to work on." He remarked, still shooting her a frosty glare. His nose flared in aggravation.

"You barely know me." Jersey blurted out while bugging her eyes. "You shouldn't get this mad over someone you barely know. I'm just saying."

"Well excuse me for wanting you."

She waved him off while looking around the pizzeria. The shop was busy and filled with workers and customers. A family sat beside them with their infant, Jersey nosily looked over and noticed that the couple had a baby. A girl. She assumed the baby was at least five months old. She rolled her eyes in irritation since the baby was wailing loudly. She guffawed while shoving a slice of pizza in her mouth.

Jersey didn't care for babies, at all.

They required too much time, which she didn't have. She would never harm a baby—ever. But she just didn't have the patient for one. The labor. The blood. The pain. The crying. The getting up at midnight. The stinky diapers. The sacrificed time. The no-no's and don't touch that. She did not look forward to being a parent.

The Hispanic woman beside her held her whiny baby up and tried her best to calm her. The baby just placed an uncomfortable look on her face. She looked pretty in her blue dress that matched her blue bow in her head.

Jersey placed her attention back on her table. Her lousy table. Going out with Sawyer was a terrible idea. She was never doing that again. Their talk had turned into a debate. A heated debate.

She needed something sweet to calm her nerves, so Jersey decided to order herself some dessert.

_____________________________

Malcolm pulled up at his second apartment that was in Manhattan. He used the place whenever he had business to handle in that area. Now, he was letting Jersey and her friend, Kelli crash there. Before hopping out of his ride, he leaned his head on the steering wheel and rubbed his eyes, yet again.

He was exhausted. 

He had a bar that was located in Brooklyn. Malcolm's business was doing so well that he decided to open up another one. It would take time to plan out—since he had a lot to consider, but he was going to get everything done. Also, he planned on using his business degree soon.

Malcolm had legal money in his bank to spend and he wanted to use some of it to build an advertising agency for marketing. He planned on being independent, so he was looking forward to starting an in-house and digital agency. It would probably be difficult in the beginning, but he was willing to take the risk.

He was heavily interested in marketing, so he figured an advertising agency would be great. First, he would build his business off the ground, gain employees with skills, and soon have clients like Nike and Apple wanting to work with his company on a specific product or service.

"I need a drink." He said to no one in particular.

Everything was finally starting to come together. Rudy's situation was now put to rest—which made Malcolm feel a little better. He had to go through a couple of niggas, just to get the situation settled, but he figured it was all worth it.

He exited out of his Jag and made his way to the apartment. It took him a minute to make it up there, but he did. He stood in front of his designated location and knocked on the door. He did three firm knocks.

Knock, knock, knock

Malcolm could hear heavy footsteps approaching the door. He furrowed his eyebrows in suspicion. He assumed that Jersey had a man over, so he prepared himself for the worst. His jaw clenched in anger as the assumptions overflowed his brain. He felt like it was disrespectful for her to do that.

The door swung open, revealing Ryder. He shared the same expression as his friend—both men had the same assumption. When they noticed each other, their hardened expression eventually soften.

Ryder leaned his head while allowing his boy to walk inside.

"The f**k are you doing here, man?" Malcolm asked nosily as he walked inside, taking the scene in. He noticed that Kelli was sitting on the couch. He placed his attention back on Ryder and shook his head. He didn't understand why Ryder was still entertaining Kelli when he had a whole girlfriend who was due to give birth soon. He figured his boy would f**k Kelli a few times and drop her, but he was still hanging around.

That wasn't good.

Malcolm liked Hope, she was a good girl. He felt like she was a better person for Ryder, in all honesty. She had been with him for a couple years and dealt with his bullshit. Still, he felt the need to cheat and take advantage of her.

"Hey, Malcolm." Kelli greeted while giving him a faint smirk.

He only nodded his head. Kelli was okay in his opinion; he just didn't care for her too much. Malcolm had peeped her out a long time ago. She wasn't f*****g with Ryder because she liked him. She only stayed around because he was throwing money and d**k her way. Anything Kelli wanted; Ryder tried to get it; From what Malcolm could understand, she was still with her boyfriend—Travis.

He wasn't feeling it, at all. But he was going to mind his own business. Ryder was a grown ass man and he knew better. The s**t was going to hit the fan, eventually.

"I was handling something." Ryder answered his friend while locking the door. "She needed a part for her car, so I went and got it."

Malcolm furrowed his eyebrows while looking back and forth between the two. His thick eyebrows drew together, causing a glare on his handsome face.

"Did you handle that business?" Ryder asked, referring to Deshawn.

"I did..." He trailed off while leaning on the couch. "Where Jersey?"

"Oh, Jersey." Kelli smirked while rolling her eyes. She was going to tell Malcolm where her friend was. She knew that he had a soft spot for her. Plus, she was still salty about the way Jersey dissed her earlier.

"Yeah, Jersey." Malcolm repeated, tucking his hands into his jacket.

"She's out, babysitting Sawyer."

It took Malcolm a minute to process what she had said. He stood there, wrinkling his nose in confusion. His honey-colored eyes darted over at Ryder and then Kelli, in suspense. "What?"

"I'm saying, she's out on a date. Rocking the cradle and s**t—with Sawyer."

"...Stop lying." Ryder disputed while waving her off.

"I'm not."

He sucked his teeth while copping a seat beside Kelli. "Man, Sawyer is her driver."

She rolled her eyes and said, "That she's now seeing."

Malcolm didn't say anything about the situation. He had other important things in his mind. Instead of replying to Kelli, he just pulled out his ringing iPhone and read the incoming message he had while avoiding the others he hadn't read.

"So..." Kelli trailed off as she looked over at Malcolm. "Why are you here?"

_____________________________

Lunch with Sawyer went left. Jersey wasn't expecting for it to go so wrong. After their heated discussion, they ended up eating lunch in total silence. The pair didn't even try to get to know each other or spark up a conversation. They just shot each other looks whenever they figured they weren't looking.

Sawyer made sure to blast his music the whole ride over to the apartment. Jersey wasn't a fan of loud music in the car since it made her ears pop uncomfortably. Instead of complaining about it, she just leaned on the window, watching how everything quickly merge in colors.

When they pulled up to the apartment, Sawyer glanced at her. He bit down on his bottom lip, observing her closely. Suddenly, he leaned over and turned the music down. He let out a deep sigh and said, "Your stop."

"Yeah..." Jersey trailed off while grabbing her to-go box that held some of her pizza. She was in a bad mood, so she didn't get a chance to finish it. She placed her hand on the handle of the door and quickly removed it. Jersey looked over at him and narrowed her eyes. "Actually, can I talk to you? We need to come to an understanding."

"Shoot..." Sawyer replied, half interested in the conversation. He placed his hand on the passenger's headrest. Jersey gave him a quick look since she caught on to his attitude.

What's with these men from Brooklyn? Seems like they always have an attitude with me. She said to herself.

"I uh..." Jersey trailed off while sighing. "From now on, I think we should keep things strictly professional between the both of us."

Sawyer leaned his head to the side and placed his eyes on Jersey. She watched as he licked his pink, bottom lip. He still didn't seem too interested in her truce, so she decided to get out of his car.

Jersey collected her things and hopped out of his Lexus. As soon as she walked around and touched the pavement of the sidewalk, Sawyer pulled off. That was completely unprofessional and against the rules, but she was going to let it slide.

However, Jersey was sick of men who couldn't handle rejection. She strolled to the apartment building and made her way inside. The desk clerk greeted her warmly as she walked over to the elevator.

_____________________________

The doorknob jiggled, causing the people in the room to place their attention on it. However, Malcolm didn't. His eyes were glued to his phone.

Jersey pushed the door open and narrowed her eyes when she noticed both Malcolm and Ryder inside the apartment. She closed and locked the door behind her.

"Did Sawyer behave himself?" Kelli questioned her friend with a sly grin.

Jersey didn't say much because she didn't have the energy to do so. Instead, she decided to roll her eyes. On her ride up, she felt sick to her stomach. Heat rushed over her body while sweat beaded her forehead.

Kelli stood up and made her way over. She held a look of concern as she examined her friend. "Are you okay? You don't look so good."

"I don't know..." Jersey trailed off while coughing in the crook of her left arm. She was so frustrated with herself that she didn't see Malcolm staring at her.

"Jay, your lips are swelling, and you have something forming around your neck." Kelli pointed out.

"Damn, you do." Ryder concurred as he looked over at her. "What did you eat?"

"You definitely ate something you're allergic to." Kelli co-signed.

"Well, I had pizza at Patruno's Pizzeria. The Neapolitan pizza."

"What else?"

"Damn." Jersey cursed while clenching her teeth together. "The cannoli cheesecake."

"It must've had cinnamon in it."

Jersey struggled to breathe as she marched into the back of her room. Desperately, she tossed her things and headed for her dresser. She rummaged through her drawers, trying her best to find her EpiPen.

"I know I put them in here." She said to herself while tossing her clothes out.

"You can't find your EpiPen?" Kelli asked, peeking into the room.

"No."

"But you need it or...we'll have to take you to the hospital."

Jersey shook her head no, she hated hospitals. They always terrified her. Going to visit someone was easy but going for herself was difficult.

"Give her a Benadryl."

Their eyes flew on the person with the deep, yet soothing and raspy voice. Malcolm stood by the door, looking over at Kelli with his honey-colored eyes.

"You sure that'll work?" Kelli asked, raising her eyebrows.

Malcolm shrugged his shoulders coolly and said, "Only if you want her to live."

Kelli sucked her teeth proceeded to leave the room. She had some Benadryl from her last cold.

"I'm not sure I can take Benadryl." Jersey called out, not looking at Malcolm. He made her nervous and for some reason, he kept his eyes trained on her. "My doctor recommended EpiPen—"

"Well, you can't find your f*****g EpiPen." He remarked snappily while drawing his eyebrows together. "Just take the damn Benadryl."

Malcolm noticed the solemn expression that appeared on Jersey's swollen face. He sighed in irritation because she frustrated him. He hated how defiant she was. Instead of standing near her room, he decided to leave. He would have to come back another time—when she was settled in.

Kelli made her way into the room and gave Jersey the pills and a bottle water. After taking the medicine, she stripped out of her clothes and dropped down on the bed.

_____________________________

Indian cuisine did happen, but Jersey wasn't included. The Benadryl she took did help her allergic reaction, but she still felt nauseated. She spent the rest of her day in bed, sleeping off the sickness; Vena made her way over later and she made sure to check on her friend throughout the whole night.

The next day had rolled in and Jersey felt so much better. She laid on her back, listening to the ticking of the clock that hung on the wall.

Tick...tock...tick...tock

The sun beamed inside her room from her window, causing a great ray of light to hit her beautiful, brown skin.

She pulled herself out of bed, still dressed in her bra and panties. Jersey held a discomfort look on her face as she held her stomach. The Benadryl had knocked her out, so she didn't get a chance to use the bathroom.

Jersey grabbed a shirt and some yoga pants from the floor. Her clothes that she tossed out of her drawer was still out and sprawled everywhere.

"I'll just have to clean that up later." She said to herself while pulling her shirt over her head. She followed up by putting her pants on next. After pushing her feet into her slides, she made her way outside her room.

Jersey placed her slim fingers on her stomach and plodded right into the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her lips and face weren’t swollen anymore; however, she had a little dry skin on her neck from the incoming allergic rash.

"I'll just moisturize it." She said to herself. "It'll go away."

Jersey wasted no time using the toilet. As soon as she wiped, she cursed to herself silently.

Hello, Bloody Mary.

The fresh, pinkish blood imprinted the tissue and gave everything away. It was time for Jersey to start her period for the month of May. She rolled her eyes while tossing the tissue in the toilet. She wiped herself again and reached into the cabinet to grab a maxi pad. She noticed that she only had a few left.

"Damn...I need to go out and buy some more." Jersey complained. After fixing herself, she flushed the toilet and washed her hands thoroughly.

She made her way to the front and noticed that Vena was lounging on the couch while Kelli paraded around the kitchen, cooking breakfast.

"How are you feeling?" Vena questioned her as she held a nonchalant expression on her face.

"I'm alright." Jersey trailed off. "Hey, Kelli...you got any Advil? My cycle is on and I'm cramping."

"In my room, yes. It's on the dresser." Kelli answered as she eyed her friend. "Help yourself out."

"Thank you." Jersey replied while heading for the back room.

"I'm glad your period is on. It's good to know that you haven't been tainted and impregnated by Malcolm." Kelli commented.

"Girl." Jersey waved her off. "We used a condom and had s*x once."

"It only takes one time to get pregnant." Kelli thought out loud while squinting her eyes. "That one time can actually ruin your whole life."

"No raw s*x, huh?" Vena called out with a sly grin. "Damn."

"Better safe than sorry." Jersey retorted while shrugging her shoulders and walking off.

"Yeah, her sorry ass gave him one of my condoms." Kelli spilled with a smirk and playful eye roll. She looked over at Vena sneakily who was looking back at her.

"For real?" Vena asked while gaping her mouth. "They f****d in your old apartment?"

Kelli never put two and two together. She knew that Jersey took a condom, but it never came to her mind that she f****d Malcolm in her apartment.

"Bitch." Kelli called out while looking at Vena. "You know what—they probably did f**k in my old apartment."

"But where?" Vena questioned her nosily.

Jersey made her way towards the front. She didn't realize that she had eyes on her. Instead of showing any recognition, she just grabbed some water, took three pills, and waited for the pain to go away.

"Let me ask you something, Jay..." Kelli called out while turning the stove off.

Jersey sighed while taking a seat at the table. "What is it?"

"Did you f**k Malcolm in my old apartment?"

Jersey sat still as her eyes moved back and forth—from Kelli to Vena. Kelli held a look of concern while Vena laughed uncontrollably.

Instead of lying, Jersey decided to tell the truth. She didn't feel the need to cover it up anymore.

"Yes."

"Hell nah." Vena blurted out as she chuckled.

"What?" Kelli snapped while furrowing her forehead. "Where at?"

Jersey took a minute to answer, which caused Vena to start dancing and singing off tune.

"Tell ussss...where youuu fucccked him attt?"

Jersey rolled her eyes at Vena before speaking. "We had sex.... on the couch."

Vena couldn't help but to laugh out loud once again and that caused Kelli to place both of her hands on her hips.

"Jersey!" Kelli lashed out. "I paid good money for that couch."

"You don't even have it anymore." Jersey shrugged her shoulders. "Plus, I wasn't really thinking at the time. I just...wanted sex."

"Check you out..." Vena trailed off with a cheshire grin.

"Y'all get on my damn nerves..." Kelli aired out while fixing her plate. "The food is done."

Vena wasted no time jumping up, but Jersey didn't seem to move. She didn't quite have an appetite. She watched as her friends fixed their food. They piled bacon, eggs, and pancakes on their plates.

"So, how was your date?" Vena questioned her friend nosily. She only knew about the situation from Kelli.

Jersey shook her head and said, "I wouldn't call it a date. We only went to get food."

"It was definitely a date." Kelli argued. "Y'all went out to get food and y'all talked. Date."

"It was not a date." Jersey corrected her. "We went to a freaking pizza parlor and ate there. We barely had a conversation because the whole time Sawyer called himself trying to have a debate with me."

"About?" Kelli investigated.

Jersey blew out some air as she looked at her friends who stopped what they were doing.

"You bruised his ego and that f****d up the mood. Then, he asked me how I felt about his age."

"And what did you say, Mamita?" Vena interrogated.

"I told him that he reminded me of my brother—Laurence and that killed everything. He accused me of seeing Malcolm and... that was stressful. From now on, I want our interactions to be strictly professional between us. Nothing more, nothing less."

"See." Kelli pointed out, "I told you that you shouldn't date a kid. Sawyer's nineteen, Jay. I don't give a f**k about his ego—f**k that."

"But still, Kelli...some things you have to keep to yourself."

"Look, it is what it is. Like I said, Sawyer is too young for you and well...he showed you that yesterday. That nigga ain't ready for a relationship at all. Don't waste your time."

_____________________________

Four men marched inside the bar pushing heavy dollies that contained large boxes. Dock made sure to keep everything in stock—especially the liquor.

The delivery men were dressed in navy green uniforms. On the left side of their suit—in the front, was an embroidery that said: Malcolm's Bar. An identification card was clipped on their uniform as well.

Malcolm wanted everything to be authentic, so he went out the way to give his employees the best. He made sure everything was well organized and presentable.

"How many boxes on the dolly?" Dock questioned one of the delivery men as he stood there, left hand tucked in his pocket.

"Just six." The delivery man answered while holding a clipboard in his hand. "We have more on the truck."

Dock noticed the guy trying to give him the clipboard. He assumed he wanted him to sign his signature. Instead of doing that, he just shook his head.

"I'm not signing anything until I know for sure that everything I ordered is in my presence."

The delivery guy nodded while pushing the dolly further in the bar.

As soon as Dock turned around, his eyes met with Malcolm who was just walking in. He carried a look of stress and stubbornness as he touched the back of neck. His light, honey eyes looked pierced and narrowed as he checked out his surroundings. A few people spoke to him verbally, but he only gave them a simple nod.

Suddenly, a crashing noise snagged everyone's attention, including Malcolm's. He looked over and noticed that many boxes were turned over and now on the ground. The liquid from the broken glasses seeped through the boxes, letting Malcolm and Dock know that some of the alcohol was now ruined.

Everybody went silent, they were too busy watching the scene before them. The customers in the bar knew that Malcolm wasn't the friendliest or easiest to deal with. They watched as he calmly walked over to the puddle of mess.

Dean nosily muted the television that was hooked on the wall. He held the remote in his hand as he watched attentively.

Malcolm looked at the damage and mentally calculated how much money he'd lost. He placed his piercing eyes on the one who was responsible for it. The average-height delivery man stood there with a stuttering chest. The color drained from his light skin as he waited on his outcome from his boss. He didn't mean to break the glasses; he was actually trying his best to keep the boxes from falling off the dolly.

"That's a lot of damage." Malcolm spoke up, stating the obvious. He surveyed the guy, scaring him. "So, Marvin...are you certified?"

"I am." Marvin answered nervously.

Every employee who worked on the delivery trucks had to take a six-week class in order to be employed. Delivering wasn't easy and he wanted his employees to know that. Instead of wasting his time with unprofessional people, he came up with the idea to get a class for his business. It was costly, but Malcolm wasn't missing that money.

"Then why are you f*****g up?"

"I...uh." Marvin trailed off while looking around at the mess. "The stump—was in the way. I didn't see it coming in."

"This is costly...all of this damage." Malcolm stated while frowning. "But don't worry, I'll get my money's worth—out of your check. Get back to work."

"This mess needs to be cleaned up." Dock announced, adjusting his jacket.

Marvin gaped his mouth in disappointment. He couldn't afford to lose money at all. He knew that he was in a win-lose situation. Trying to negotiate with Malcolm was not something he wanted to do.

Sarai, Malcolm's employee, made it her mission to help by cleaning up the mess. She grabbed the mop and immediately started mopping up the liquid.

The customers decided to go back to what they were doing, but some continued to be nosy.

Malcolm cursed underneath his breath as he looked over at his uncle. Dock stood there, slightly shaking his head.

"Is this what I'm paying them for? To break my s**t?" Malcolm asked with his hand pointing towards the mess.

Dock watched as his nephew made his way to the bar. Malcolm took a seat and he sat beside him.

"It was a mistake, s**t happens." Dock replied, excusing Marvin's f**k up. "We'll just have to get that stump fixed. A couple of delivery men stumbled on their way in."

"It's a mistake that's costing me." Malcolm stressed out while looking over at Dean. "Dee, pour me a glass of Scotch on the rocks."

"Scotch, this early?" Dock questioned his nephew while raising his eyebrows. He noticed the tired expression that Malcolm possessed.

"I need it."

"What the hell has you so grumpy this afternoon?"

"I got a lot of s**t on my plate." Malcolm mumbled.

Dean grabbed a clean glass and tossed a couple of ice cubes in before pouring the scotch in. After filling it up, he pushed it over and Malcolm wasted no time consuming the liquid.

"I think you're handling everything the wrong way." Dock commented. "Drinking yourself to death is not helping you out."

Malcolm placed his eyes on Dock, giving him a look.

"The bottom line is; you're too young to be stressing yourself out like this." He continued, ignoring the look his nephew was giving him. "Stop overworking yourself and start living for yourself. You're twenty-five son, enjoy life while you're young. You don't want to miss out on your youth—I'm telling you. It's not a good feeling."

"I'm not missing out." Malcolm objected while shaking his head. He held the cold glass in his large hands, not much scotch was left. "I just...need to organize everything better. I'm trying to open up another bar and... I want to get my advertising business up. Plus, I'm dealing with other s**t—I just have a lot going on."

"Well, I think you are." Dock protested. "And if you want to lift some weight off your shoulders then I suggest you hire a personal assistant."

Malcolm scoffed in disagreement. He didn't want another person around him every day, all day. However, having a personal assistant would keep him from getting stressed out and he would have time to do other things.

"An assistant, you sure about that?"

"Hell yeah..." Dock trailed off. "I can help you find one if you're interested in it."

"Let me think about that, man. I already have a bodyguard—Arthur. I don't like being smothered by people. You know that."

"Your assistant does not have to be around you all day." Dock stated honestly as he looked over at Arthur who was sitting in the booth.

"I'm undecided still..." Malcolm trailed off as he sipped the rest of his scotch. After finishing, he pushed away from the counter and said, "I'll catch up with you later. I have a few errands to run."

_____________________________

The sound of the squeaking buggy annoyed Jersey. She was hoping she would run up on a good one, but all of the carts seemed stripped. Instead of complaining, she just grabbed one and started shopping.

She grabbed the snacks she was craving, a pack of pads for her menstrual cycle, and some Advil for the pain. After paying for her things, she made her way down the sidewalk with her yellow bags in tow.

Instead of getting Kelli to drive her, she decided to walk to the store. The walk from the apartment wasn't too far, which is why she decided to go on her own. She passed a few people and didn't get their attention, thankfully. She was sure she wouldn't get any attention at all since she dressed herself in loungewear. Jersey sported a long cardigan with a top and some leggings.

When she made it back to the apartment, she noticed that Malcolm's Jaguar was parked on the side. Jersey rolled her eyes upwards as she continued her walk. She knew that it was his apartment, but she didn't understand why he was popping up every other day without a good reason.

When he noticed her, he flagged her over. She tried to ignore him at first, but when he called her name, she stopped in her tracks. She stood there for a minute but eventually made her way over. 

Malcolm hit the locks and motioned for her to get in. Jersey sucked her teeth but did as told. She opened the door and hopped inside the Jaguar.

The smell of black ice and peppermint invaded her nostrils as she settled in. Malcolm's car was neat, and he had an air purifier that sat in one of his cup holders; Jersey assumed he had allergies.

Nervously, she moved around while clenching her bags. Malcolm made her like this—all shaky and unable to breathe comfortably. She found herself holding her breath as if it would make him angry.

Nervous.

Malcolm looked over at her—taking her whole appearance in. She glanced over at him and immediately looked over at her hands, fidgeting with them.

He furrowed his eyebrows because he didn't understand why she was acting like that with him. Jersey called herself now trying to avoid eye contact with him.

"You survived...I see." He spoke up, breaking the quiet spell.

"Y—yeah." Jersey replied awkwardly while clearing her throat. "The Benadryl worked...like you said it would."

She eased her eyes on him and noticed his intensive stare on her. He looked like a beautiful piece of artwork to her. Jersey realized that Malcolm had beautiful eyes. He had honey-colored eyes that had little specks of green in them. They went well with his delectable, brown skin.

Jersey didn't understand why he kept his eyes trained on her. In her opinion, the s**t was weird yet a turn on.

"Why are you over here? I know it's not to check on me." She asked him, trying to get comfortable.

"You're right about that." He replied honestly while moving his eyes from her. He looked around, quickly checking out his surroundings. Jersey just furrowed her eyebrows at his response.

"I wanted to let you that I caught up with the person who had Rudy's phone."

"You did? Well, who had it?" Jersey asked, looking at him for an answer.

"Deshawn...I'm not sure you know him. He uh...killed Rudy and took his phone."

"I don't know him..." She trailed off while shaking her head. "But how did you find out?"

"Just know that I found out with accurate information. I took care of him." Malcolm informed her while placing his eyes back on her. Jersey looked over at him as well. She knew exactly what he meant by that. "So, you're free to go back to Brooklyn, if you want."

"Um..." Jersey trailed off nervously. "I don't really have any place to go back to. If it's okay with you—I would like to stay here for a while. Just until I get back on my feet."

Malcolm didn't say anything for a while. He was too busy looking off, thinking. He heard Jersey sighing while moving around, trying to fidget with her bags. He looked over and noticed that she had a pack of pads inside one bag. He was thankful to see that. Condoms weren't always effective—he was just glad to see that she was buying them.

"I mean...you can stay." He acknowledged. "Just respect my peace of mind."

"Respect your peace of mind?" Jersey reiterated while squinting her eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm still paying for this apartment and it ain't cheap." He informed her. "I don't want no niggas coming and going. You understand?"

Jersey knew exactly what he meant. It was always the same with men. Malcolm wasn't different at all. He was paying all of the bills at the apartment and he didn't want men running in and out of the place.

"I guess."

"Don't guess. You need to know, understand, and respect." He corrected her with a calm expression on his face.

She rolled her eyes and said, "I'm not going to let any men come to your place, Malcolm."

"Good." He concurred while looking off. "So, you rocking the cradle now?"

Malcolm didn't want to bring it up, but he wanted to see what was up between Jersey and Sawyer. He wanted a reaction out of her.

Jersey's eyes shifted as she thought about his question. She knew that he was referring to Sawyer's nineteen-year-old ass. Jersey figured Malcolm knew already and it was because of her fat-mouth friend, Kelli.

"I'm not rocking anything." She corrected him, carefully choosing her choice of words. "I told him I couldn't see him."

Malcolm didn't reply back, so Jersey continued with her ranting.

"He got upset with me and... I just told him to keep things strictly professional between the both of us."

"And if he doesn't, you let me know."

Jersey looked over at him and gave him a faint smirk. She didn't bother to smile big since she didn't want to shoo Malcolm away. She already figured he wasn't the happiest and friendliest guy to deal with.

Instead of prolonging the conversation, she decided to leave. Malcolm waited until she walked into the building to pull off.

_____________________________

Malcolm made sure to keep his body in shape. He stayed in the gym whenever he could. Thanks to his uncle's suggestion, he was able to get an assistant and clear his schedule. It was much needed, and he finally felt better.

He had a female assistant named Candace. She was only around to help him maintain his schedule. When Malcolm first met her, he realized how beautiful she was. She was average height, light skinned, and wore her long, relaxed hair in an auburn color. Her looks were nice, but she was strictly business and he was going to keep it that way.

He held his bag in his hand as he made his way towards his car. Malcolm had two contract phones and one burner—the iPhone was for his personal use while the blackberry was for business.  The burner was for...other uses.

When he hopped inside his Jaguar, he checked his phones. He had notifications from both. Two missed calls from the contractor that was on the business while a couple of messages from Tilly, June, and his mom that was on the personal.

Malcolm connected his phone to his car and called his mom. She answered on the second ring, sounding like herself.

"Where you been Max? I've been trying to reach you."

"My bad lady." He replied while pulling off. "I was at the gym, working out."

"Getting ready for your birthday?"

"Nah..." Malcolm trailed off while shaking his head. His birthday was the last thing on his mind.

"Well, you should. Do you know what you're going to do?"

"Honestly, I've been drowning myself with work." He admitted while sighing.  "I just started freeing my schedule, thanks to my assistant."

"What the hell are you doing with an assistant, Malcolm?" Frida asked. She wasn't used to stuff like that. In her opinion, having an assistant was just a waste of money.

"I just need help with my schedule. I have way too much s**t to deal with during the day." He cursed as he halted at the red signal light.

Frida sucked her teeth and said, "Who is this personal assistant anyway? I want to meet her—or him."

"Her name is Candace and you'll meet her soon. She's going to be around from time to time."

"We'll see about that. I still don't feel comfortable with you having a... personal assistant."

"You'll just have to get comfortable because I'm not firing her." Malcolm spoke with authority. His voice was calm but bold and stern.

"Oh, before I forget...your old friend stopped by here."

"An old friend?" Malcolm repeated while glancing at himself in the mirror.

"Yeah, Renzo...he showed up at my front door this morning. Looking for you. He looks different."

Malcolm furrowed his eyebrows as he thought about that name. Suddenly, it all came to him quickly. He remembered Renzo. Lorenzo Allen—one of his childhood friends; Malcolm was a couple of years older than him. They lived near each other back in the day—before they moved out of the projects. Lorenzo stayed in the apartment across from them with his stepmother, baby brother, and father. They would hang out all the time and catch up with each other after school.

He was surprised to hear that Renzo had showed up at his mom's house. He didn't like that—not one bit. From what he could understand, Lorenzo's head wasn't screwed on too tight.

 He did not want him around his momma or sister—at all.

Malcolm was a cold-blooded killer—but only to people who tried crossing him. He would never kill someone without an accurate purpose. Lorenzo, on the other hand, was a different story.

Growing up, he spent a lot of time watching movies and documentaries about murders and he stayed playing violent video games. Most of his conversations with Malcolm was about buying guns and other lethal weapons. Around that time, Malcolm was thirteen—young as hell. He didn't take his friend's words seriously.

Flashback

One night—unexpectedly, squad cars covered the entire block. The sound of sirens grabbed everyone's attention. Malcolm could remember the horrible scene vividly. Frida made her way outside her door and noticed a bunch of commotion going on across the hall.

Lorenzo's stepmother was crying and screaming as she kneeled on the floor. Blood covered her gown and that caused everyone's stomach to flutter and flip with nausea.

Malcolm remembered seeing a stretcher being carried out of the apartment. His heart raced as he thought about Renzo—he wondered if he was underneath the white sheet.

"Get him out of my house! I want him out!" His stepmother screamed with all of her might. Her face turned red as tears cascaded down her rosy cheeks.

Frida's mouth flew open when she noticed the police officers stepping out of the apartment with Lorenzo in tow. He held a nonchalant expression on his face as he got carried away, in cuffs. Blood covered his white t-shirt and dirty, khaki pants. His father—Eric stood on the side with a solemn expression on his face. He leaned on the wall, speechless.

The next day, Malcolm learned that Lorenzo murdered his own baby brother, Kenneth. Lorenzo had an argument with his stepmother about doing his homework. He grew furious when his dad took her side. Foolishly, Lorenzo went into the kitchen to grab a butcher knife. He marched right into his four-year-old brother's room and stabbed him repeatedly in the chest and stomach.

Flashback over

Malcolm was surprised that Lorenzo did it. He knew that his friend talked a lot about catching his first body, but he didn't think it would be his own blood. From what he put together; the situation turned deadly because of the treatment Lorenzo was getting from his parents.  He didn't get the love Kenneth received and that resulted in fatal jealously. 

Eric didn't want to leave his son in the dark. Instead of pushing away from him, he decided to help him—out of guilt. However, this resulted in his wife leaving him. Still, Eric pushed forward and made a way to get a lawyer for his son. He did this by working at a Baptist church, selling most of his valuable stuff, and selling plates out of his home.

Lorenzo had a decent lawyer—thanks to his father. The attorney was able to get Lorenzo's medical files that showed evidence of mental illness. With that information, the judge ordered Lorenzo to spend a couple of years in juvenile detention and the mental institution for the murder of his brother. 

Malcolm snapped back into reality and scratched his beard. "How he knows where you live?"

"Eric spotted me one day while I was outside. I'm assuming he told him." Frida admitted. "He was riding around in a Cadillac—you know he's a pastor now. He's preaching the word to people while taking their money at the same time. He even moved out of the projects and remarried."

Malcolm didn't care about Eric's life. He knew that the man had turned into a Baptist preacher and now had his own church in Brooklyn. Unfortunately, he didn't care. He was more concerned about Lorenzo knowing where his mom and sister laid their head at.

"I don't like that—him knowing where you stay. I'mma get this s**t straighten out with Eric and Renzo."