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 hewasa 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 whenLike 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…finefine. 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.
