Tapping his chin until he looked, I bent down until I had his eyes. “Keep your eyes on me. I don’t want your soul to depart alone.” Right when his eyebrows creased, I began to use my favorite weapons of choice, my two fists and beat him mercilessly. Lifeless.
His body had dropped to the ground from the force of my hits. That wasn’t going to stop me. I can’t say how long I used his body as my personal punching bag or when I slipped into that dark haze where no one existed but me and my demons. My face felt moist and I knew it wasn’t because of me breaking a sweat. Several times my hands touched bone, cutting into my flesh, making me even angrier knowing that I’d have to see my doctor in the morning for a tetanus shot.
“Amell, that’s enough.” One command and the robotic movement of my fight ceased. “How many times do I have to tell you to use your gun?” Mitch lectured, throwing a towel my way. Once I finished wiping down my hands and face, I looked at the towel and grimaced. Not a speck of white in sight.
“How many times do I have to tell you why I won’t use it?” I shot back with the same steel in my baritone. Not giving one last look to Henry’s dead body or Mitch, I left out the warehouse and popped the trunk of my car.
The twenty-four hours in my day left room for uncertainty things could happen out of my control so I needed to keep at least two duffle bags of clothes in my trunk. Being in the streets my days weren’t always peaches and sunshine. There were grim days that resulted in brain matter being left in my beard from being too close to a target. Blood on my shoes. Teeth in the pockets of my pants. Fingernails snagged against my shirts.
A bunch of evidence that I never wanted to bring over the threshold of my home. I dressed simple when it came to daily operations. Mostly in sweats or jeans that never cost me over twenty dollars, plain shirts, and black boots. The soles on the bottom of my boots had enough dips and holes that I could place nails or pin needles inside, making it more painful when I fought my battles with my boots.
“My brothers called them my killing boots.”
Cassian and Atlas weren’t oblivious to my lifestyle. I never hide anything from them. I refused to. I wanted them to see it all. See what I endured every day so they could make better decisions than the ones I made. Keeping that mentality is the only reason why I hadn’t completely moved out of Clover and Mitch’s house yet. I had a downtown condo by the intercoastal, but I only stayed there after I finished a job that left me feeling completely numb and dead inside.
“Those days were beginning to merge with my everyday life, and I didn’t like that.”
Guns were my specialty. Never would deny that and Mitch used it to his advantage. I took my first hitman job on my seventeenth birthday. Sometimes I feel like my life is a Hollywood action script.
Point blank period, the killing of my dad led me to a life of taking lives.
“What the fuck,” I barked standing in the middle of the doorway drenched in water.
When I opened the door to my entrance on the estate a bucket of ice-cold water fell on me followed by feathers being tossed in my face. I knew from that annoying cackle of a laugh it was Cassian. The damn boy lived off pranking people. Half of the time I never paid him any mind. Figured it was his own coping mechanisms but the older he got I realized my brother was just a certified grade-A asshole.
Tugging my shirt over my head I used it to wipe the feathers and water off. Atlas peeked his head around the corner with a smile on his face while Cassian stood right in the open laughing his ass off.
“Cassian, I swear. One of these days you’re going to feel the heat from my gun.”
“Go ahead and shoot me so I can tell the honeys at school that I got battle wounds over them pussy ass boys they be crushing on.” At sixteen I expected him to have a child by now, and I know that’s sad to say but Cassian sexed any girl that had legs. He tried to use his mack game on our neighbors, Yazlyn and Georgia, but they refused to even look at him other than the little annoying boy they grew up with.
Atlas on the other hand was a damn genius. Like me, he skipped two grades and was a freshman in high school. His mind at fourteen made me thank God in prayer on many nights. He turned out to be the complete opposite of Cassian and I loved that. His dreams were to have his own chemist lab so he could make vitamins and other natural herbal medicines for the hood. Instead of working at Publix or some other store like the kids his age, he made his money by making vitamins and other natural supplements that he sold.
“Hey, Amell.” Atlas finally stepped out into the hall and dapped me up.
“We waited up for you. I wanted to sit and do my homework together.”
“I made some fried wings and loaded baked potatoes. Might not taste like Clover’s but it’s close.” Cassian brought over the mop and dustpan.
This was our norm now; living with the Kalmins and trying to have a normal life. Even though I stayed in the streets most of the day I always put their needs first. Every teacher’s conference and school event I was present. They never had to worry about not seeing my face or having my support. To show them that there was more to life than the streets I enrolled at the University of Miami once I graduated high school.
Night classes weren’t an option for me. All though Clover offered to watch them, my brothers were my responsibility. I spent as much time with them and dipped into the streets once they went to sleep. During the early part of the morning, I went to class. It was hard running off of three hours of sleep, but it was worth it. Our life, our new norm, we were making it work.
“Are you working Saturday?” Atlas sat across from me with his books laid out on the table.
“Depends if you want to do something. What is it that you want to do?” Out of both of my brothers I worried about Atlas the most. Cassian, unfortunately, was just like me but with a sense of humor. He had a very violent streak to him and had no problems doing what was necessary to protect those he loved. But Atlas, the kid had too big of a heart to physically hurt anyone.
Several times he offered to make me a pill that would kill someone within five hours instead of shooting them. I’d never classify him as soft but the reality of it is true and that made me even more protective over him. He saw me more as a father than a big brother, or maybe it was both. Either way, he clung to me more than Cassian and that scared me.
Atlas always wanted to hang out with me in the hood and had I not been so deeply invested he’d be my shadow. His future was the future I never got a chance to live, and I’d do anything to make sure that innocent light in him stayed shining.
Looking off smiling, he slid a piece of paper across the table. “I won homecoming king for the sophomore class. Usually, parents walk the crowned court on the field during half time. Instead of Mitch and Clover, I want you to walk with me. But…I-I know you don’t like crowds so it’s okay if you don’t want to.” That quickly his confidence diminished.
“You got a jersey for me to wear? I may have enough time to go to the Flea Market and have one custom made.” Watching his whole face light up erased everything negative I faced today.
“Already taken care of. Clover and I went there after she picked me up from practice. The whole family is going to be geared up representing you, kid.” He and Cassian slapped hands.
“The whole family…”