Ace of Spades Sneak Peek(31)

He turns to look at me now, eyes red, but I think it’s a mix of whatever the fuck he’s been taking and tears. I step even closer. He moves back like I’m gonna hurt him.

Dre tries to act all hard, but he’s not. He’s this teddy bear who needs to be hugged and kissed and loved.

I know this because I know him. I’ve known him for years, been friends with him for years—despite Ma’s disapproval. We love the same music. That’s how this all started. Tupac, Biggie—they made our friendship. Rap, R&B, Soul, we love that shit.

We used to lie on his bed for hours, listening to the oldies till day was night, before his ma kicked him out when he was fourteen.

I remember the first time he kissed me—we kissed way too late if you ask me. I’d been dating Scotty for a few months at that point. I didn’t even know Dre liked me until that moment, or that I liked him.

The memory clouds my brain.

“I’m sort of seeing someone,” I tell him, despite my heart racing like I just ran a marathon and won.

Scotty, I’m seeing Scotty. I shouldn’t feel like that’s suddenly something I don’t want.

He scoffs. “Rich white boy, huh?”

I want to kiss Dre again …

“Yeah, rich white boy,” I whisper.

“Get out.” Dre’s deep voice cuts through my memories.

My eyes are watering as I shake my head.

He comes close to me now. “Get out. Please, get out.”

Closer …

I shake my head again.

He presses his head against mine, digging into my skull, but I don’t care. I grab him and he kisses me, long and deep, and I cry, tears tickling my chin as they leak down my face. I hold him and we kiss and kiss until he’s pushing away and shouting.

“Get out.” He shakes his head, moving back a little. “Get the fuck out!” he yells, wiping his face roughly. I jump back as the doors burst open.

Two of his boys bust in. Leon is one of them.

“Want us to drag him, Dre?” Leon asks, his eyes avoiding mine.

I look back at Dre, who looks at me with red eyes that are glassed over with regret.

“Just get him out. Don’t want him dealing my stash anymore.”

The knife in my chest turns and my heart crumbles. I close my eyes as they drag me away, pushing me down the stairs so I stumble. They shove me out so hard that I fall to the ground.

I can feel so many eyes on me. The boys outside—the boys I was made to be scared of—ready, waiting.

There is silence before it happens. The wind rustles through the trees nearby. A lighter clicks. Then footsteps.

And before it happens, I remember the first time Dre told me he loved me. It was days after we started dating and months after the first time we kissed. Only weeks after I’d ended things with Scotty. We were listening to music in his apartment, the place he was before here, arguing over senseless shit, and he just said it. I remember thanking him for his honesty, and we started laughing. I said I love you hours after, and everything was so light. Was that wrong? Us saying that so early on?

The first blow hits my side and I hiss.

I love you.

The second blow hits harder. I think that this, paired with Dre’s words, is as painful as a gunshot.

I love you.

The rest of the blows come at once, puncturing me over and over. Someone punches my eye and I scream.

I love you.

I feel it swell up. I can’t see. I can’t see. I can’t—

“I love you,” he tells me, straight after telling me I’m dumb for thinking Destiny’s Child is better than TLC.

“Thank you for your honesty,” I tell him, even though I’m dying inside. I look at him and he looks at me, eyebrows slit in a way that makes him look weirdly attractive, and eyes dark and lusty.

He smiles at me. “That all I get?”

I wrap my hand around his neck, bringing my head closer.

“I said thank you, though…”

There’s a pause and then we are laughing for no reason.

He is smiling when he kisses me, leaning in and kissing me. And I feel so light.

God, I feel so light.



* * *



I don’t know where I am. I was in front of Dre’s, and now I’m here in a room, lying on what feels like a bed.

I let my fingers brush against the material beneath me.

“You’re awake,” a deep, invisible voice says. My heart skips a beat.

I spot the shimmer of a figure in the corner. Using my good eye, I squint, trying to see if it’s someone I know or at least recognize. He’s tall, with brown skin, eyeglasses, medium black dreads, and shaved sides. He looks about my age. But that’s all I can really see; my eye hurts so bad …

“It’s Terrell,” he starts. “Terrell Rosario—I saw how badly they hurt you and brought you back to my ma’s place. Hope that’s okay.”

Terrell. Sounds familiar … I think.

My whole body throbs, like pins have been jabbed into the really sensitive spots. I can only imagine what my face looks like, when I can’t even open my right eye.

I nod.

“I put some water on the bedside table,” he says, pointing to my left side. I look over and there’s a blue plastic cup.

“Thanks,” I say.