“Ramina,what the hell happened to your face?” I asked when I entered the kitchen.
My sister, who was a little more than ten years my junior, was sitting at the kitchen table with an ice pack on the side of her face.
“Nothing.”
I’d just come into the house from the garage after working on a few of my neighbors’ cars all day. It was my only source of legitimate income, and it kept a few dollars in my pocket. I didn’t charge them very much because they couldn’t afford much. Most of the time, they struggled to come up with enough money to pay for the parts they needed.
I made most of my money hitting up corner boys and stash houses. The money I stole, I used to pay a significant portion of our household bills. When necessary, I used it to make up the difference when my neighborhood customers couldn’t afford the necessary repairs for their cars.
“Aye, don’t lie to me. That bruise didn’t just randomly appear.”
“I’m fine, Rowdy. It’s not a big deal.”
I knew she was lying, and I wouldn’t let up until she told me who did this to her.
“Ramina, stop fuckin’ playing with me. If you don’t want to be stuck in this house for the rest of the summer, tell me who the fuck did this to your face.”
“You can’t make me stay inside.”
“Like hell I can’t. Who the fuck did this?”
“If I tell you, you have to promise not to do anything.”
“You know damn well that’s not about to happen. I know it’s not that lil nigga who came over here last month trying to get you to leave with him.”
“No. I’m not talking to him anymore because you scared him away like every other boy.”
“Good. Ain’t none of them worth shit anyway. You got into it with some girls from the neighborhood?”
“No, Rowdy.”
I took a deep breath and counted to ten because she was pissing me off.
“Mina, I’m gon’ ask you one more time. Who did this?”
“Denzelle.”
“Denzelle? Who the fuck—I know damn well you ain’t talking about Zelle from the Westside Riders, the one I went to school with?”
She nodded but refused to look at me, and with good reason. The Westside Riders were a motorcycle club that washeadquartered on the west side of Savannah. They originated in Onyx City, which was about three hours away but had chapters throughout Georgia and other states.
“Ramina Diane Noble, I know damn fuckin’ well you ain’t fuckin’ around with that grown ass man.”
“He’s the same age as you.”
“I’m twenty-eight and grown as hell. You’re still a damn minor. What made you think it was okay to deal with that nigga? Did you fuck him?”
“No, I didn’t have sex with him. I’m still a virgin, but he wanted to be my first. When I told him no, he got mad and tried to force me. He would’ve succeeded if someone hadn’t called him with an emergency. He rushed out of his house and left me there. As soon as he was gone, I left.”
“Give me his address,” I demanded.
“Row—”
“Now, Mina!”
“He lives in the blue house on the corner of Greenwood and Langston.”
“What’s the house number?”
