Drummer Boys Got Initiated

This should probably be an explicit chapter, but I'm too tired to make the radio edit...maybe I'll do that tomorrow. So I'm just giving an explicit warning here for now. It's hot. And violent.

The song, Hot Girl Bummer...love it. Perfect for the way Bodie is feeling at the end of his initiation. About Jasmine and the crew. He's just gotten in and he' s already through.

Bodie, a little more than twelve years ago

I ain't ever looked over my shoulder in my own hood. TJ and I have been like brothers since we were five years old, and that made me a friend of the Sixers. Nobody in this hood crosses people that Daemon Turner considers family.

But the last few days, I've tensed every time I hear rough voices coming up behind me.

TJ got jumped in last week. He limped around the next day to show me his new gang tat on his neck—the Letters MOB with the number six inscribed inside the O. He said the beating wasn't that bad, they plied him with liquor and weed afterward, and took him straight to the tat parlor.

But he is the gang leader's brother, so he might have mostly gotten a pass on his initiation. I'm not sure if I can expect the same treatment. I know mine is coming any day, and I know Dae likes to make it a surprise to see how a brother reacts under pressure, so I'm kinda tense right now. I've been in my share of fights, but the point of a jumping in isn't to fight back. It's to take it like a man.

I relax when I realize the voices behind me belong to my little punk neighbor from across the street and his friends. I pull out my key as I take my porch steps three at a time and unlock the door beneath the pale porch light. It's a Saturday night—I just finished unloading the day's product, but I'm still home before my mama. She has a good part-time gig waiting tables at a high end restaurant in mid-town...the kind of place where people buy bottles for the table and the bill runs up quick...and so does the tip. She makes a lot a cash for two shifts on the weekends, but she closes on Saturday nights and never gets home before 1am.

It's not even eleven yet. I have time to grab a shower before I head to the stash house to turn in my take. I kinda dread doing it, because every damn time I finish a week all sold out, Daemon gives me more to sell the next week. It's not cool to come back on Saturday's with too much product in hand, but it's getting harder and harder to get to class, work my cover job as a landscaper, and run around all over North Atlanta servicing all my customers. Something's gonna have to give. Definitely no more marching band for me in the fall. Maybe no more school period.

I didn't want to check my burner on the street in case I was about to get jumped, but I've gotten a bunch of texts between the train and here. Three cold texts from unknown numbers who have crazy fucking convoluted gamer slang, but they all mean the same thing—asking for a sack of weed. I laugh at their white boy paranoia and text back,

Mission Failed.

Try another brother.

I go careful-like, but dealing is just business. I ain't got no time for spy-games and anonymous drops and shit. I tell all my customers if they want to pass my number on, they need to let me know, and I need a call from the new prospective client, not a text. This ain't no on-line, automated pharmacy. I need to get a feel for a dude.

However, once they are established, a buyer can ask me straight out for what they want by text. No worries about being blunt, my burner phone is prepaid and not attached to me at all.

I scan down my texts. There's another from an established client who knows the drill.

Stoner:

Yo, it's Nate in Duluth.

Are you up top tonight?

Could use an eighth.

He means am I still north of the city.

Me:

Sorry dawg.

I'm down low and tapped out.

Stoner:

Bummer. Catch you tomorrow?

Me:

Definitely.

Text me after 2.

I think we're done, but he texts back.

Hey, you seen Molly around?

Hmmm...not sure if I can deliver that deal, Nate. We had an unexpected run on ecstasy for spring break, I'll have to see what's rolled into the stash house today.

Me:

Yeah, I seen her around.

She might ride up with me tomorrow.

Stoner:

Cool, my friend wants to meet her.

Me:

Molly ain't a cheap date right now

She's in high demand.

Stoner:

That's cool.

My friend is kind of a rich asshole anyway.

I laugh. Every rich asshole has a friend who is a richer asshole.

Me:

I hear ya, Dawg.

Hit me tomorrow.

I put my burner on charge as I whip off my shirt and turn on the shower to warm up. My real phone pings. It's Jasmine.

Hey can we talk?

I mean, can I come over?

I get a weird feeling in my chest and it travels straight down to my dick. I can't help it. I haven't seen Jasmine in a couple of weeks, but the first time a girl goes down, I'm betting it leaves an impression on every guy.

My thumbs feel frozen. I don't know what to say. She's been avoiding me ever since it happened. I mean, I get it. The whole moment was kind of crazy, and maybe she regrets it. I'd just kissed her for the first time a few minutes before and she...well, she surprised me big time, taking charge like that. And even though it was a fast move, and she definitely knew what she was doing, I got the feeling she was real...nervous or conflicted or something.

I felt bad for letting it happen.

Okay, I mean, I felt great, but then I felt bad after she left.

I felt like she thought she had to do that or something, because we've been hanging out for awhile now, and I've been paying for coffees and a few dinners and stuff.

But it's not like that. I'm not like that.

I'm not expecting a return on the little things I do for her. Then again, I'm not tryna not be with her, either.

I just don't know how to tell her that. I don't want to make her feel embarrassed about the sudden suck-off she gave me, but I don't want to make her think I didn't like it, either.

I liked it. I just don't only like that. I like her.

How do I show her that?

Should I move quick to return the oral favor? So she's knows I'm down to be more than friends?

Or maybe I should just...be cool, see how she's acting?

Shit, this is all kinda fucked up confusing.

I realize I've left her hanging without a text response. I quickly thumb:

Yeah, sure.

Come over.

After a long moment of debate, I add...

My mom won't be home for a couple hours.

Jasmine:

Good.

Good, she says. Yeah. Okay. Good.

I know from experience that it takes exactly eighteen minutes to walk from her place to mine. I grab a five minute shower—leaving the bathroom door open just in case she's not at her place but somewhere closer by. Before I can even get dressed, I hear the screen door creaking open and a couple of soft raps.

I throw on a pair of basketball shorts and a tshirt and open the door, a big goofy grin on my face.

"Hey, gi—shit, Jasmine." I pull her into the house, taking her head into my hands, forcing her face up as she tries to turn away from me.

A real black eye on a real girl don't look like the tv version. It's not some pretty smear of makeup artistry. Her left upper lid is still swollen, making her eyes look uneven. A dark bruise colors the outer corner. Beneath her eye the speckle of blue bruising is already starting to fade.

This happened a while ago—a week maybe—and it's still pretty brutal.

Her braids are back, and I smooth my hands over them. A million questions runnin' through my mind, but the stupidest one pops out. "Are you okay?"

Jesus, dumbass, of course she's not okay. Some asshole punched her in the face.

"Yeah, this is...not what it looks like," she says, biting her lip. "Girl fight. You know that girl, Trina? I saw her in the liquor store and I accidentally laughed at her outfit." She rolls her eyes and gives me a grin. "I couldn't help it, she looked like a damn hoochie."

I close the door behind her. "Trina did this?"

She moves through the living room to my bedroom door. She looks back at me with lyin' eyes. "Yeah."

Then she walks into my bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed, crossing her legs, smoothing her hand over the gray comforter, tracing the grid of the plaid.

I follow her, and pull the chair from my desk, sitting in front of her. "Jasmine, don't lie. I've seen Trina fight. She pulls hair. She slaps. She scratches with those scary ass nails." I tip her chin up to look at me. "I ain't ever seen her throw a punch. Who the fuck hit you?"

She doesn't answer.

"Some dude push up on you at a club or something? Somebody from this hood? Cause if he's a Sixer, the guy in charge of them don't play like that. He doesn't like for his boys to beat on the girls that live here. Just tell me who, and I'll take this fucker's name to the stash house tonight. He won't bother you again."

Jasmine stares at me like I'm a zoo specimen. Tears start to slide down her face.

"I can't do this..." she stammers as sobs start.

I don't know what she's talking about, but I can't stand to see her cry. I'm off the chair and beside her on the bed in a second, holding her close. "It's okay, Jaz. I swear, it will be okay," I murmur in her ear. The sobs only come harder.

"It's really okay." I know why she's crying. I guess I've known all along. It wasn't some random that hit her.

"You can tell me. Was it...somebody you are with? I mean, somebody you stay with? I know there's a reason you don't ever invite me to your place," I murmur. "It's okay. I swear. I don't care if you been talking to me but you stay with some other dude. It's like that sometimes. People do what they have to do. I get it. Just...tell me. That house where you stay is all fixed up. Somebody's taking good care of you. A Sixer? One of the higher-ups put you there? He do this to you?"

I'm tryna run the list of Daemon's lieutenants, but most of them are nearly thirty and Jaz is so young. I think about that fucker that messed up his football ride at Auburn last year by testing positive for cocaine. He's back in the hood but he still acts like a big man on campus. "Is it Antonio? You stay with Antonio? You can tell me. Nobody likes that fucker anyway. Daemon will order him a beat-down for sure..."

She's shaking her head negative on my shoulder. Her lips feel soft against my throat, where she's taking shaky breaths, trying to control her sobs, but I try not to feel it. This isn't a moment like that. The girl needs help.

I pull her away gently and meet her gaze. "Please, Jasmine. Let me help."

"You're too good, do you know that?" She smiles at me and puts her hands on my face. "Too good."

She kisses me on the cheek and leans her forehead gently against mine. "When I'm with you...I feel like me," she says. "Not like a girl that stays with a dangerous guy and gets punched in the face."

I don't know what to say to that, so I don't say anything. I just cup her jaw with my hands, wiping away her tears with her thumbs. We stay like that, our foreheads pressed together, until she stops crying.

"Bodie," she says hoarsely.

"Yeah, Jasmine?"

"Make me feel like me. Just for a little while," she whispers.

I put my lips on hers like its the most natural thing in the world, and it must be the right thing to do, because she kisses me back. We make out long and slow...giving each other soft sucks, our tongues teasing each other. She tastes so sweet and she's so soft beneath my hands, as my fingertips roam her face her neck, her back.

There's a warning light flashing in my head to go slow, but I can't stop. I've sampled most of the wares in the stash house, and they are nothing compared to this girl. Jasmine is the best drug by far.

"You're so pretty." I murmur as I put the lightest kisses near her busted eye. "And sweet. And smart. I'm so sorry you got hurt. I would never hurt you, Jasmine. You can trust me," I tell her, pulling her a little tighter against me. I never really felt up a girl before, but my hands slide easily beneath her crop top, the heat of her sides setting fire to my fingers.

She stills my hands, and I lower them back to her waist and I grin into her lips. "Sorry."

She shakes her head. "I...no...I mean...it's okay...I..." she looks down at my lap and then looks away. My boner is pretty obvious in the basketball shorts. "I'm just gonna go to the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

"Sure. Okay," I say, a tiny bit confused. I'm not sure what's happening here. "Do you uhm...you want me to get us some snacks? We could watch a movie or something..." I gesture at the new tv on my dresser.

"No, I don't want a snack," she whispers. Then she tugs at my t-shirt and pulls it over my head. I'm so surprised that it takes me a second to help her remove it.

"Jaz—"

She puts a hand over my mouth and plants a kiss on my pec, right over my heart. She looks at me with amber eyes. In the dim light of my bedside lamp, I see they are threatening to spill over with tears again. "I like you so much, Bodie. I really really do."

"I like you too, Jasmine."

"That's not my real name," she confesses.

"I figured." I trace her pink pillow lips with my thumb. "You wanna tell me?"

"Not tonight," she says, and she looks up at the ceiling for a second, blinking away the tears. "I'll be right back, okay?"

She slides away through the open door into the bathroom. I scoot back against my headboard, staring down at the boner in my lap that is so hard it feels like a steel bar. "Chill the fuck out, dude," I mutter. "This is not really about you, right now."

He ain't tryna hear that. Pretty sure it's him that makes me check the time on my phone. 11:20. My mom won't be home for ages.

Pretty sure it's also my dick that makes me check the nightstand table for the box of condoms my mom put in there a while back.

I shut the nightstand door hard. "Seriously, dude. You're getting way ahead of yourself," I chastise him.

Maybe not, he seems to answer back as Jasmine steps to the doorway in a black lace bra and matching panties. She's stunning—every inch of her beautiful skin smooth and crying out to me. She has a tattoo—a bower of jasmine on her left hip. I'm dying to touch it.

I want to touch her all over.

"You're fucking gorgeous...but you sure you wanna come in here like that? I might lose my damn mind," I tell her.

She smiles at me, but she moves over to the bed too quickly for me to admire her beauty fully. For a flash I feel disappointed, but that disappointment evaporates in the fire she ignites as she climbs onto my lap and seats herself right on my crotch in the same instant she kisses me fiercely.

My hands are on her slim hips, on her belly, on her ass. "You feel so good. So good, Jaz."

"So do you." She moans lightly as she grinds down against me and I gasp a little, but try to cover it with a chuckle.

I can't fucking believe this. This is...crazy. But then her mouth is on mine again and I don't care.

I gather her braids in my hand and tug gently. She tilts her head back willingly, arching, giving me a full view of her pretty cleavage. I kiss down her sternum, as my hands slide slightly south of my kisses. I look up at her as my hands cup her breasts—still fairly sure any second she's gonna stop this. She puts her hands over mine and guides me in pulling the cups down, freeing her petite boobs. Still, they are perfect. A perfect handful, and the prettiest brown nipples I have ever seen.

"Gorgeous," I tell her again, teasing gently with my tongue. She moans and holds my head firm, grinding against me.

I just buck and suck for a few minutes. It feels so fucking good to me...her on me and beneath my hands at the same time. It surprises the hell out of me when she squeezes her thighs together and lets out a small squeal into the top of my head as shudders rip through her.

She gasps and lets my head go, staring at me in surprise.

"Did you just..."

"Yeah," she whispers hoarsely and then she's sliding off my lap, still looking surprised as she stands beside the bed, her hands clutched over her heaving chest.

"Off," she says, and I make to move off the bed, too.

"No," she shakes her head. "Your shorts."

"Jaz..." I fade away. It's a weak fucking protest and we both know it. I want her. Whatever she's willing to do for me, with me, whatever, I want her.

"Take them off, Bodie," she says, and lift my hips and slide them off.

I sort of expect her to give me a repeat of two weeks ago but she quickly unhooks her bra and slides her panties off.

"Oh shit," I gasp, but I don't protest as she climbs on top of me and slides against me.

I'm at the door of wet hot heaven.

"Fuck," I groan, pulling her face to mine, seeking her lips, her taste, her breath.

"I feel you, Jasmine," I tell her, giving her more friction, feeling fucking incredible as she moans into my mouth.

"I feel you, Bodie," she whimpers.

Then it sort of just...happens.

Our moves sync and I edge inside her. She stills, her eyes going wide, her mouth dropping into an O of surprise.

I tense. It's so fucking hard not to move, but her expression is not exactly giving me the go ahead.

"You okay?" I ask her.

She shakes her head in the negative, very slowly. "This isn't supposed to be happening," she whispers.

"You right," I tell her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...I didn't know it would happen so easy...am I...am I hurting you?" I ask through gritted teeth, dying to push in further, to feel her all up and down me.

She lets out a breathy laugh. "No Bodie, you aren't hurting me." She kisses me again, feverishly, but she lifts off slightly and by instinct I grab her hips, stopping her while I'm still an inch inside.

"That's good. I'm glad. It's not...I mean......can I...? Fuck, Jaz. It feels so fucking good," I squeeze her hips. "I didn't fucking know..."

She stops kissing me and grabs my face, searching. I feel heat rushing to my skin. "You didn't know?"

I try to kiss her again to stop the conversation, but she holds her head. "You never been with a girl before?"

I close my eyes and shake my head as I massage her hips.

"Oh, Bodie." Her voice is a sigh as she slowly rolls her hips and seats herself fully on me. I groan at how amazing she feels. So soft and hot and tight. "I didn't know that. I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" I mumble. She doesn't answer, she just hugs me tight and begins to move. After a few minutes, she stops kissing me and pushes me farther back on the pillows, raising up, her hips and spine rolling.

She's Venus, an ocean goddess in motion above me.

Goddess of beauty.

Goddess of love.

"You feel so good, Bodie. The way you are looking at me is so hot," she murmurs, her fingers trailing my expression. "Move with me. Move me," she encourages, and I finally realize I should be matching her motions better.

It only takes a minute to sync up.

I have a lot of rhythm.

We don't kiss anymore. We just watch the pleasure on each other's faces as we move together.

"Bodie...don't come inside me," she murmurs. "Tell me when."

I nod, sweat bursting from every pore as I suddenly realize what we are doing. I'm bare inside her and I ain't got no business like that. I fumble for the nightstand drawer, pulling the pack of condoms out.

"It's okay," she whispers.

"No, it's not," I tell her and tear open the box. "I care about you. I don't want to mess it up. I don't want to mess you up."

To my complete shock, she starts crying. "What did I say? Shit, I'm sorry," I raise up, brushing a hand on her bruised cheek. "I'm sorry, baby..."

She shakes her head, grabbing the condom from me and tearing open the packet as she moves beside me on the bed. I'm trying to kiss her tears away while she's putting it on me. It's a little sad and a little weird.

Our foreheads are pressed together again. "We can stop," I tell her. "We can talk."

She's shaking no. "Make me forget everything but you. I want be underneath you, Bodie."

Christ, this girl is sweet. She's making me feel like a stud and the truth is I don't know what the hell I'm doing. But I've never lacked for confidence, so I climb between her legs and slowly lower her down.

"And I want to see you come again, Jasmine," I tell her. "Show me how to make it happen." I pull her hand to her center as I gently spread her and ease myself in. She sighs in bliss at our joining.

"God, Bodie...why does it feel so good?" she murmurs, running a lazy hand through my twists as I start to move inside her.

"It doesn't always feel this good?" I ask, kissing her collarbone, looking down between us at how she's using her other hand. I brace on one arm, push her fingers aside, and copy her motion with my own.

She lets out little gasps and happy sounds as she grips my shoulders. She has a lazy smile but her eyes are so wide, I feel like I could drown in them.

I sex this girl for what seems like a long time. The pleasure at the base of my spine builds and builds and I whisper her name.

"Jasmine. Jaz. Sweet Jaz."

I suck her throat. I don't know if it's that or the way I said her name or just my fingers, but something or maybe all of it puts her over the top and suddenly she's clenching me, inside, and with her legs, and with her hands. It's the best feeling I've ever known as I speed up to chase her ecstasy. I finish with her, flooded everywhere as she draws me in tighter and tighter.

I lay my head on her shoulder while still inside her, wanting the moment to last forever. She runs her fingertips up and down my spine, softly, tenderly.

"That was—"

"Yeah," she cuts me off. "It was."

She's pushing me gently by the shoulder and I ease off her. When I roll onto my back and look over at her, tears are running from the corner of her eye.

The amazing feelings of...amazement start to cool into something else as I watch her cry.

Wow. This is like jumping off a fucking cliff. Exhilarating at first, but the ground is coming up fast.

"You didn't do anything wrong," I say to her.

"I did. I really did." She puts her hands over her face.

I lean up on my elbow, tugging at her hand but she won't take it away from her face. "He hit you. That's a game changer in any hood, Jasmine. Whatever you were to him...he fucked it up, not you."

She's clutching my t-shirt to her chest. "I have to go. I've been here too long."

"Jaz...you aren't going back there..."

"I have to."

"No, you don't. Look, let me talk to my mom. She'll let you stay. I mean, probably not like this," I gesture between us, "but you can have my room. I'll sleep on the couch. Until you figure something out."

Jasmine is sliding off the bed, pulling up her panties, scrambling for her bra. She dashes to the bathroom. I follow her, only taking a second to deal with the condom and pull on shorts while she is getting dressed. She's looking around the bathroom frantic, like she's trying to see if she left anything. She grabs the tissue with the condom out of the trash and flushes it down the toilet. Then she snatches up the air freshener and shoves past me, her braids swinging as she dashes to my room, spraying frantically.

I stand in the doorway, my fingertips gripping the frame. "What the hell are you doing?"

"It smells like sex."

"Oh. Good thinking," I mutter. I really don't want to have a sex conversation with my mom tonight.

She tosses the can down and hops into her shoes.

"I'm so sorry, Bodie. I...messed up. I like you so much, but I messed up. I have to go."

I brace my hand on the bedroom doorway, not letting her pass. "Please don't do this. How you gonna do this? After what just happened—"

"What just happened wasn't supposed to go that far," her face is tight with fear. "I'm sorry. Please don't tell anyone. No matter what. He'll kill me, Bodie. You too."

"Ain't nobody killin' nobody. I told you, Daemon don't hold with that kind of drama..."

She grabs my face. "I won't tell. No matter what, okay? I won't tell. Promise me you won't tell."

She seems so scared. The last thing I want is that. "Okay. I swear. I won't tell anyone we were together."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what. But Jaz, you don't have to go back to him. Who the fuck is it, anyway?" I growl in irritation.

There's a banging on my front door. "Open the fuck up, Bodie! We know you are in there!" I recognize the voice. It's Big Mike, one of Daemon's most loyal lieutenants.

"Shit!" she squeaks. "It's him." Her eyes are filled with terror.

Big Mike is an enforcer. He's a stone cold killer. A lot of the older guys have killed, but Big Mike runs a murder like a job.

"Back door," I say automatically, dragging her through the small kitchen and out of sight of the front door, into the tiny laundry area at the back of the house. I put a finger to her lips as I ease open the door and make sure there's no one at the back. It looks clear. I point to the left, to the quickest way to get between the houses that back up to ours, and get out of sight. "Go."

"I'm sorry," she mouths silently.

"I'm not," I tell her and kiss her quickly.

Big Mike is still raising hell at the front door but I wait until Jasmine disappears between the houses. Then I shut the door quietly. "Jesus Fuck. I'm coming!" I scamper back to my bedroom, grap my take that needs to be turned in and fling open the door.

"I got your money right here. I was just on my way to the stash house. You know I'm good for it, Dawg."

I'm fucking stunned when Daemon pushes around Big MiKe and smacks me fucking hard with a nine. The pain that explodes at the side of my head is excruciating. I can't see. I'm not even aware I'm down on my knees until Daemon reaches down and pulls the roll of money from my clenched fist.

"Thanks. But right now I don't give a fuck about your take. Where the fuck is my girl? Where's Jasmine?"

That's when the cliff I've been falling off catches me short and I hit the ground. Jasmine belongs to Daemon?

Fuck me. I'm so fucking dead.

My brain feels frozen. I'm trying to force down paths in my head, trying to find an escape from this that doesn't involve a body bag.

"Not here." I grumble and he backhands me again with gun.

Jesus Fuck that hurts.

"Don't pretend like you don't know her. I know all about you and Jasmine. You think you can draw off my Dime, Bodie? Take her to the library? Kiss her in between the stacks? Hold her hand on the fucking train? I see everything that goes on in my hood. I should kill you right the fuck now."

He goes to hit me again, but I meet his eyes. "I didn't say I didn't know her. I said she ain't here. We're just friends, me and Jaz. And I damn sure didn't know she was yours."

"Then you're just an ignorant nigga, and I should kill you for that." He bares down on me, his nearly bald head slick with sweat and his eyes red with rage. I've never seen him look like this. Gone is the handsome, cool as fuck king pin. He's losing his shit on me. The worst of it is, after he loses his shit on me, he's gonna go to her. He's the motherfucker that hit her, probably for hanging out with me.

The best I can do is get him to spend most of his rage on me.

"Fine. Kill me. But you'll probably enjoy it more if you beat the fuck out of me first," I say calmly.

He laughs and then he slaps me with the pistol again. Then he uses fists. Big Mike takes a few swings too.

My pain sensors are maxed out after a few blows, but I lose vision again. I feel like the world is reeling and I pitch forward on my hands. "Motherfuck," I grit out, forcing myself not to vomit. I spit blood to the side and push myself back up.

"That all you got?" I sneer at Big Mike.

He comes at me again, but before he strikes another blow a bunch of vague shapes I can barely see crowd in from the kitchen and the front door.

"Damn," I hear TJ swear. "Bodie, shit..."

"He deserves it," he tells TJ. "Fucking with my girl."

I spit more blood. "Told you, I ain't fucked with nobody."

Daemon laughs. "Let's ask the girl. He fuck with you, Jaz?"

"He flirted, that's all," Jaz says. The pitch of her voice is the same but her tone is harsher. "But he ain't go no game. I had to do all the work."

The whole house erupts in laughter.

I wipe sweat and tears from my eyes and see Daemon cross the floor to Jaz, grabbing her jaw roughly. "You work him tonight?"

"Only like you told me to," she says quietly.

He backhands her, and she lets out one quick yelp, but she knows not to cry too hard, that will only make him angrier.

"Don't fucking lie to me, bitch! I know what you look like when you've been fucked!"

A few chuckles and "shits" ripple through the room, but it's much quieter now.

Jaz looks at the floor. "I swear. I only did what you told me to. Stripped to my underwear. Got him hard. Let him think he was gonna get it. Got him close, rubbing on him. Then I laughed in his face and left him hanging. I swear. I did just what you told me."

Fury runs through me. This is set-up, but there's layers of lies and I don't know if there is any real at the bottom. Did she really feel me like I was feeling her tonight? Did Daemon tell her to fuck me, and ask me to lie for her, to see if I would betray him? Is Jasmine still staging the set-up? Or is she trying to protect me now, lying to keep me alive?

I don't fucking know. The only truth I'm sure that came out of Jasmine's mouth tonight was when she said, This isn't supposed to be happening.

Daemon is chuckling now, drawing Jasmine up against him. "I want to believe you. I want to think you are a good girl, that you do what you are told. But you been messing around with him for months behind my back, Jasmine. You're nothing but a whore. Just admit you fucked him. I won't even make you watch me put a bullet in his brain. Admit it and you can go home and remember him with his brains on the inside."

Jasmine's chin is quivering but she says calmly. "I am not a whore and I did not fuck him. You know I didn't. I've only ever been with you. He's just some kid that gave me some free books to read and kept following me onto the train." She looks at me with a sneer of pity. "I felt sorry for him. I was nice to him, but then you told me to mess with him to teach him a lesson for pushing up on what wasn't his. I did what you asked. I always do what you want to me to, Daemon. You always do me right. I always do you right, baby."

He gives her a long, hard stare-down, but she meets his eyes without flinching. Then he laughs and pulls her roughly to him, gripping her neck tightly. "I'll do you right, in a little bit, Jasmine." A smart crack echoes as he pops her hard on the ass. "Get the fuck on home, where you belong. We got business with Bodie."

She nods, kissing him lightly on the lips and walking out the door without a backwards glance at me.

Everybody in the room stands in silence until Jasmine is well down the street. I'm still on my knees.

Daemon puts his nine millimeter under my chin. "Imma ask you one last time. Did you fuck her?"

I'm all in with the lie now, I ain't turning back.

"No," I sneer at him. "But to tell you the fucking truth, I woulda if she woulda let me. Cause I didn't know she was your fucking bitch! How many times I gotta tell you, man? I ain't trying to die, dipping in your dimepiece!"

He jabs me in the throat, and when I cough he shove the barrel in my mouth. "I was almost ready to let it go, but your fucking smart-ass mouth just earned you your death certificate, nigga. It's a fucking shame. I like your momma, and she's gonna come home in a hour and find your brains all over her living room. That's some shit for Ronna to live with, because you couldn't keep your dick off my woman and your fucking mouth shut."

Suddenly, he takes the gun from my mouth.

"Any last words?" he asks mildly.

"Fuck you, Daemon. I didn't fuck your girl." I say without any heat. My heart is pounding. I don't want to die at fifteen, but at least if he's gonna blow my brains out, it's quick, painless. And I did get to have sex before I died, at least.

I think about Jaz but that's too much of a fucking head-trip, to go out with her sketch-ass on my mind. I try to fight down my fear and make my last move count. If Daemon is taking me out of this world in the next minute, there's only one thing left I can do. I cut my eyes to TJ. "You don't let my mama see me like that. Promise me."

"I got you, Dawg," TJ say solemnly. "I fucking swear."

Daemon says, "You know what the fuck? If TJ is gonna make promises to a dead motherfucker, let's do this shit on the porch. That will be easier for my little brother to clean up." Big Mike and Antonio lift me up and toss me back down painfully on the concrete porch. Daemon shoves the gun back in my mouth and angles it toward my palate. "I only got one last thing to say to you, Bodie."

I glare up at the whites of his eyes and his teeth, pale and ghostly in the moonlight. I bite down on the barrel and I wait for the last words I'm ever going to hear.

"Bodie Jamison, you're one cool motherfucker under pressure. I can use a man like you. Welcome to Sixmob."

He pulls the gun from my teeth as hoots and howls and claps rip through the night. Somebody is pouring liquor down my throat as somebody else is hauling me to my feet.

I do my best not to fall back down again. I lean over, putting hands on knees, forcing a laugh as people jostle me. I honestly didn't know if he was going to kill me or not, but I'll take thug life over thug death, just like anybody.

TJ is slamming into me hard, clapping it out and pounding my back. "Shit. Daemon likes you way the fuck better than he likes me. You only got pistol whipped just a little bit. I got kicked in the ribs and the balls. But it's all good. We in the money now, brother."

"Yeah, we in," I say grimly, glaring at Daemon, who is all smiles as he tips a bottle of Crown at me and swigs.

Later, when I'm in the chair at the tat parlor, Daemon pulls up a stool and watches the work critically. After a long period of silence, he speaks casually, like we are friends.

"I know what you're thinking. You're thinking Jaz is a devious little bitch. You think she played you. But it ain't like that. Because it was never about you. You were nothing to her, do you understand? I knew about it the minute you pushed up on her and I knew this was exactly the kind of initiation you needed. One in which you learned a lesson about loyalty. Jaz did what she did only because I told her to. If I asked her to fuck everybody in the crew, she would do it. She would hate it, because she's a good girl, but she would do it. She's loyal to me, you understand?"

"Yeah," I mutter as I swallow against the sting of the tat needle.

"Good. If I ever hear you are giving her any grief over her part in your initiation, I will fucking kill you. She's my Queen, and you just some baby-banger. There's one of her and a thousand of you, you feel me?"

"I feel you."

"Good." He grins. "Cheer the fuck up. You're big time now. Lots a pussy eager for a real gagnster at the pool hall. Pick one out and forget about your little crush on my woman."

"Yeah," I repeat and accept the bottle of liquor he offers me, waiving off the tat gun in irritation as I take heavy swallows.

I need to get fucked up, because this is a night I would really rather not remember.

Well, it's no wonder that Bodie is over gang life as it has just begun. Everybody he thought he could count on betrays him to some degree in this chapter.  Even TJ just stands by, willing to watch him die without protest. Nobody is really what he thought they were, huh?  I think getting thrown in juvi might have been a relief to Bodie. What do you think?

Thoughts about Bodie's first time? I have my opinions of course, but I'd love to hear yours...