Page 1 of Cause When You Love Someone

Ishmael

S o Far Gone/ Fast Life Bluez

After eleven years of dealing with the same shit, one would think I would be used to visiting the hellhole to mediate the beef between my mama and her favorite crackhead, but convincing two lost souls they shouldn’t be together never got old.

“What’s up, Ishmael!”

I lifted my head toward the clear sky, acknowledging the corner boy sitting on the hood of an abandoned car.

Though I didn’t associate with many who lived in the Paradise Projects, I knew most of the people who roamed the premises.

Despite its name, the low-income building provided everything but the essence of a getaway.

Profanity and noise from disobedient children filled the air.

Unkempt grass littered with broken toys and beer cans brought down the property value.

People treated the territory like a landfill, and on any given day, the block resembled a scene from The First 48.

My mom’s unit was located on the first floor, which made it easy to hear her and Khalil argue as I stepped into the building.

“I’m serious this time! You gotta find somewhere else to stay. I can’t do this shit no more!”

“You don’t have a choice, Mariah! I ain’t going nowhere. My mail comes here. You can’t put me out.”

I released a closed-mouth chuckle, hearing the high school dropout assert his dominance. He couldn’t find time to fill out a job application, but he had time and the desire to research something that only benefited him—go figure.

“Khalil!” I heard my sister yell. “You are getting on my nerves, and I know you stole my money. I need to wash. Give it back and leave!”

The tremble in Isabella’s voice added speed to my stride.

“Little girl, stay in a child’s place! I didn’t take shit from you, but if I chose to, oh well. Everything under this roof belongs to me.” He paused. “And I do mean everything.”

The loaded statement put my Nike slides into sport mode. My back teeth rubbed together as my mind jumped to conclusions. I marched through the partially open door and invaded their incomplete circle in the center of the living room.

Red bruises riddled my mom’s light skin, and her short hair reached for the popcorn ceiling, like the outside of a porcupine.

Khalil’s dark skin appeared moist, and his wet tank top hung low like he had been chewing on it.

Swiftly, my focus jetted to Isabella. Aside from her slender nostrils dancing from anger, the petite princess appeared untouched.

“You good, Izzy?” I asked, studying her face.

“I’m all right. I would be better if he”— she looked at Khalil—“gave me my money. I know he has it.”

I pulled my beanie down until it touched my brows. “How do you know that?”

“Because his dumb ass?—”

“Watch your mouth. You’re too pretty to speak that way.”

She threw her hands in the air as a whistle slipped through her lips. “I don’t want to hear that, Ish. He came in here, talking about where I keep my stash. When I went to check it, the box had nothing inside. I even changed the spot every few days like you told me, and he still got me!”

I stared between my mom and her moron. Khalil sported a straight face, yet the woman who birthed me couldn’t even look at me.

She also could hardly keep her eyes open.

I snarled, thinking about how the brickhouse had downgraded to a hut.

The glow that once painted her skin had turned into a shadow.

Her raccoon eyes spoke louder than she did most days, and patches of missing hair made her look sick.

Had she not been the root of my nightmares, I may have had sympathy for her.

I grimaced. “You are one cold bitch. You stole from your child? You’ve been doing the same shit for almost thirty years.”

Isabella’s arms collapsed to her sides as the light in her honey-colored eyes dimmed a few notches. “Wait. What?”

“Tell her what you did, Mariah,” I demanded without raising my voice.

My mom waved me off and wandered over to the couch with a cigarette between her index and middle fingers.

“Ishmael, your tall ass may be able to punk people in the streets, but your four-eyed ass don’t run shit in here!

I keep telling you, Izzy doesn’t need all the money you give her.

She’s starting to be tight like your cheap ass, and we got bills. ”

“ You have bills,” I clarified. “I don’t give my sister money to take care of two bums who don’t want to do shit with their lives. You’re not turning my bread into pills.” Khalil’s low growl caught my attention. “Do we have a problem?” I quizzed.

“Your mouth is the problem. Watch how you speak to?—”

I snatched the gun from the waistband of my sweatpants and shut down his empty threat.

“If I ever hear you say some shit that insinuates you can or will violate my sister, I will kill you and everyone close to you,” I declared, cutting my gaze in Mariah’s direction.

“Izzy, go put on a sweater and some shoes. We’re about to step out for a few. ”

My sister’s sad eyes dwelled on our mom before she disappeared down the hallway.

“Ishmael.” Khalil called my name with less bass in his voice than minutes ago. “Why are you coming at me sideways? I’ve been around Izzy all her life. She’s like my daughter.”

“But she isn’t your daughter.” I frowned.

“You can treat Mariah how she allows you to, but you will treat my sister the way she deserves. This is the only time I’m going to warn you.

” I put my gun away and faced Mariah. “I’m taking Izzy to grab a few things for school.

I know you didn’t get her anything during spring break. ”

She sucked her teeth. “That’s your problem! You spoil her, then get pissed when I can’t keep up.”

“Bullshit. If it were up to you, Isabella would believe she’s only supposed to get her hair done on her birthday, and men are supposed to lay up for free.”

“Whatever, Ishmael. Just have her ass back here before eight. It’s her turn to cook.”

I drove my hands into my pockets to keep from putting them around her neck.

Even after all the trauma she had experienced, Mariah continued to be a shitty person.

She was selfish, money hungry, and found more worth in the men she fucked versus the kids she birthed.

As a kid, I witnessed her do anything for a dollar, including pimping us both out.

“Izzy! It’s time to go!”

The longer I stood in the apartment, the more I risked the chance of having flashbacks that would challenge my self-control.

Right as I thought to rush to her room, the pre-teen resurfaced with her purse in hand, baby hair swirled across her forehead, and her neck draped in gold necklaces she talked me into buying.

“Hold on!” Mariah struggled to her feet while wagging a cancer stick in the air. “When did you get the new necklace?”

The jealousy in her delivery boiled my blood. “Let’s go, Izzy.”

“Did you ride your bike?” my sister quizzed with a smirk.

“Of course not. I couldn’t ride a bike to rescue my princess.”

I wanted to pick my Isabella’s brain the instant we were out of Mariah’s earshot, but I waited until we got in the car and made it a few blocks away before I lowered the music.

“Why are you huffing and puffing?” I wondered aloud.

“Because I know you want to have a talk.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about my feelings, Ishmael.”

“I respect that,” I replied, knowing the feeling all too well. “Can I ask just one thing?”

She nodded.

“Has Khalil ever . . .” My top lip trembled before I could continue.

“I know what you’re asking me, Ish. The answer is no. Hell no! Khalil plays crazy, but he knows you will cut off his fingers if he touches me. Plus, you trained me well.” She karate chopped the air.

“Good. Have you eaten breakfast?” I followed up.

“Not yet. I had plans to go to the laundromat before all the drama started.”

My eyes tightened at the corners. “You’re making your life hard. You wash clothes at my house any other time. Today shouldn’t have been different.” I gripped the steering wheel. “This wouldn’t even be a conversation if you came to stay with me.”

“You know I can’t do that. I can’t leave Mommy alone. Khalil isn’t someone to rely on.” She sighed. “Things got crazy today, but they aren’t always bad, especially when she’s sober.”

I hated that I could relate to Izzy’s experience. Vividly, I remembered my auntie offering me a room after I got released from jail, and I declined. The idea of leaving my mom alone felt worse than dealing with her friends, her man, and her pill habit.

The sound of Isabella fishing through my middle console caused me to rip my eyes from the road.

“Get out of there.”

“Why? You didn’t want me to find this?” She raised a taser in the air. “I guess this means you’re taking over the security firm for Shiloh.”

“I haven’t made a decision, but if I take the position, I’m not doing it for Shiloh.

I’m doing it for me. You,” I declared. “Honestly, I don’t know how I became involved with the firm.

One minute, I’m working as an executive assistant, and the next, he’s printing business cards with my name on them. ”

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

My shoulders twitched. “Over the years, I’ve gotten used to using my brain to make money.”

She squeezed my arm. “Now, you get to use that body.”

When Shiloh shared his plan to launch a private security firm under our car club’s name, I thought it was another way to wash money. Shiloh was good for starting a business he could use for multiple purposes, but to my surprise, everything was legit.

“Seriously, Ish!” Isabella slammed her back against the passenger seat. “Why did you park all the way back here? We’re almost on the last row.”

“The first few rows are reserved, and the middle is for valet.”

Her lids went low. “You are so cheap. Now, we have to walk a mile to get to the entrance.”

“I’m not cheap. You’re frivolous. Besides, I don’t hear you complain when we walk from one corner of the mall to the other.”