Page 20

Aku snickered, accepting the blunt Zaire had in rotation for just the two of them.

Niah wasn’t really a smoker, but she had been taking shots with an old man crew that seemed to enjoy her young company— in the most innocent way.

Between the music and more shots, they’d dropped gems on her about men and what to avoid.

Zaire laughed. “Let her cook!”

Her skin was warm, mouth sweet from the jungle juice somebody poured in a red Solo cup, and her heart—for once—felt light. Aku smiled so much, her face became numb.

Then she saw his lanky figure stalking up to the festivities.

He wasn’t looking at her, though. He was talking to someone near the domino table, eyes half-lidded and smirking like he ain’t just shift the gravity in her entire chest.

He had on a white tee but it fit differently tonight. Silver chain swaying with every step, loose braids tucked under a fitted fresh kicks on his feet and a flag tucked into his back pocket.

She licked her lips - just as high as he looked, but she remembered he wasn’t a smoker., or maybe he was a liar?

Zaire peeped the way her joyful movements stopped and followed her line of sight. “There go yo’ boy,” he said and even though she had yet to take her eyes off Malik, she could hear the laughter in Zaire’s voice.

“Zaire, stop being messy.” Aku rolled her eyes, still puffing on the blunt. She felt she needed it more than him anyway.

More blue flags appeared out of thin air when Like What ’s beat dropped. It was a real low rider, west coast type of song and Aku could tell Crescent loved it.

It made every Crip on the block start grinning like it was Sunday and the Lord Himself just hit the speakers.

A circle formed without invitation. Malik stepped in like his body was made for this shit. Those red eyes and old braids shouldn’t look as sexy as they did on him.

His fingers twisted as they all yelled out things Aku couldn’t hear, since she was too busy watching his lips.

Malik’s left foot lifted, as his right foot dragged slowly across the pavement.

His shoulders dipped. Fingers snapped. Then he doubled back on the beat, hopping low, twisting his knees just right, crip-walking like it was muscle memory…

like he’d learned it long before he could even walk.

Smooth, precise, beautiful...

Pure unfiltered culture and Aku was even more infatuated with him. She’d been with Devin who was a known Blood, but he never showed out like she was witnessing Malik do. The smile on his face looked genuine and made her smile too.

Aku’s head bobbed to the beat and her mouth dropped when Zaire found himself in the circle, hands twisting up with Malik’s as they did their walk.

Other boys joined in, adding their own flair, throwing up signs not as a threat, but as a badge of brotherhood. They weren’t bangers tonight. They were just home…dancing. Happy to be alive, and Malik was the damn star…at least in her eyes.

He hit a hard spin, dropped into a glide, and caught himself mid-step, eyes flicking up for half a second, adding a charming wink, but he didn’t break his stride.

And somehow, that made her stomach twist even more.

Aku almost melted to the ground when his eyes locked on hers, winking sexily and making her pussy ache in the process. If nothing else came from her brief time with him, Aku felt it was only right she at least get a parting gift—dick.

“Girl,” Gran Betty’s voice popped up behind her like a bad habit. “You still hangin’ around the Crescent like you belong here?”

Aku turned with a slow smile, still catching her breath from Gran Betty’s grandson. “Funny, I ain’t see your name on the sidewalk.” She fired back with a glint in her eyes.

Gran Betty grinned. Her hair was in a pineapple, nails the color of Caribbean water, and her shirt said, ‘I like my money where I can see it—hood rich.’

“You lucky you cute,” Gran Betty jested, sipping from her drink. “Lik been real quiet since you galivanted out the house the other morning.

Aku sipped her own drink. “So you keeping tabs?”

“I got eyes,” Gran Betty said, but her tone wasn’t mean, just nosy…familiar - like a neighbor who couldn’t help but know your business. “He was pretty messed up, just so you know.”

Aku didn’t flinch. “He’s allowed.”

“You gon’ fix it?”

“I didn’t break it.”

Gran Betty raised a brow, shrugged, and turned to watch Malik hit another clean walk. “Boy fine, though. Like… fine fine. Don’t let him stay single too long. Crescent got shooters.”

Aku laughed but said nothing…she knew. She could see the girls drooling as they watched his tall frame move.

Malik danced like he had nothing to prove, but everything to express. The past, the pain, the joy, the pride. His set wasn’t just a color—it was family. It was Pharaoh. It was Crescent Park stitched into his bones.

It was Jules. His chest tightened, just thinking about that night and how colors created wars. Aku noticed the change in his facial expressions. There was something there. Something that clung to him like a wound that never healed.

And even from across the crowd, even with no words exchanged…he still pulled her in…

It was later now, and people started to clear out but the old head was still spinning tracks.

Niah and Zaire left hours ago, but Aku was sitting there, listening to Gran Betty talk shit and watching her slap bones on the table.

She had smoked too much, drank even more.

Her smile had been stuck on her face for so long it was starting to ache, but she didn’t want to stop smiling.

She didn’t want the night to end. She just wanted to be right there, kicking it with Gran Betty and the neighborhood legends who slapped bones on the table like it was a championship game.

She felt him…Malik. Tucked somewhere in the shadows, watching her. His eyes crawled over her like they always did—slow and observant.

Aku just kept pretending she didn’t feel him, as she talked shit right along with Gran Betty, slapping hands when they said some fly shit. The moment made her miss home.

She missed home, not the beach house, not even Madison Heights… Home.

The place where Solar kissed her forehead every morning and French called her his whole damn heart.

She’d been calling daily, texting, and checking in, but it wasn’t enough.

She needed to see them. Curl up between them.

Get reminded of who she was when love didn’t feel like it was in the cards for her.

When her schedule cleared, Aku was going to book a flight to Emerald City. Being in Malik’s hood around his people made her miss her own.

Myesa walked out the Houston, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “You still here?” she asked with a teasing smirk.

“I was promised cake,” Aku joked, holding up her plate.

Myesa laughed and eased down beside her. “Well, long as you know Crescent cake hit different.”

“Everything in Crescent does,” Aku said, licking her fork.

They sat for a beat before Myesa nudged her with a shoulder. “I see why he like you. You got spark.”

Aku chuckled, but didn’t respond right away. She noticed how Myesa’s tone wasn’t sharp, wasn’t prying. It was matter-of-fact—like a woman who’d seen too many girls come and go, to waste energy on being petty or just talking.

“I like y’all too,” Aku said finally. “Ran into you and Gran Betty the other morning, remember?”

“Oh we remember,” Myesa grinned. “You left a whole bra in the living room…bet we all remember.”

Aku shook her head laughing. “I was tryna sneak out smooth. Y’all wasn’t supposed to see me.”

“Baby, can’t nobody sneak outta Crescent…doors creak and eyes stay open.”

That’s when the screen door opened and Malik’s father, Anthony, stepped out. He was dressed in a muscle tee and Nike slides, still smelling like cologne and charcoal from the grill.

“You the one got my son all twisted up?” he asked, eyes soft but tone deep.

Aku sat up straight. “I’m…probably the one you think I am.”

Anthony snorted. “C’mon now. I’m messin’ with you.” He handed her a cold bottle of water, then leaned over and smacked Myesa on the butt on his way down the steps. “You been out here talkin’ her ears off?”

Myesa rolled her eyes but smiled. “Go’on somewhere, Tony.”

Anthony chuckled as he headed toward the yard where some of the older men were still talking near the grill. The love was loud—blunt and familiar. You could feel it in how he touched his wife, how he watched over the block like it still had a piece of his youth in it.

“You and Mr. Tony been together long?” Aku asked, curious.

“Since I was seventeen,” Myesa said, eyes twinkling. “He had a big mouth and a gold chain. I was young and cute and liked trouble. Then we grew up and made a home.”

Gran Betty added to the conversation now that she was done playing bones. appeared behind them, glass of dark liquor in hand. “That girl askin’ ‘bout y’all love story?”

“She nosy,” Myesa said, grinning. “But she alright.”

Gran Betty sat on the opposite side of Aku, who was now sandwiched between two generations of hood women who knew how to keep a family together through damn near anything.

“I’ll say this,” Gran Betty offered, leaning close. “That boy look like Myesa, but he got my heart. Big, too big sometimes. He won’t say nothin’ if he hurtin’. He’ll just go quiet. You gotta see him.”

Aku’s mouth parted slightly, surprised by how tender her voice had turned.

“And if you gon’ love him, don’t play with it,” Gran Betty said just as Ralo got up fussing that he wasn’t playing with them anymore. She replaced him in his seat, back at the table. “He’s rough, but he worth it.”

“I’m not loving him,” Aku said, maybe a little too quick.

Myesa and Gran Betty looked at each other and then burst into laughter.

“Okay then,” Myesa said, clearly not believing a word.

Gran Betty just pursed her lips focusing on the table.