Honor Thy Thug Read Free Page B

my ass back home. I needed closure. But either way, it felt so good to be back in L.A., the City of Angels. California. I got up, leaving the same way I came in. Made it to my ride, turned back for the last time, and looked at where I used to live, shaking off the memories.
    “Rick? Is that you?” It was Mrs. Singer, my old, nosy ass neighbor. Some things never change.
    I didn’t even bother answering. Let her figure it out. I started the car and headed down my old block. Slowing down in front of Trae’s, I noticed that there was someone sitting on his porch. She had her head in her lap, a little chick. It felt as if I’d seen this girl before. I threw my ride in park, turned it off and jumped out. Her head popped up and she was up and on her feet as I walked towards her.
    “Excuse me. Do you live here?” she asked me. “I’m looking for Tasha Macklin.”
    Her voice went right through me. My heartbeat started racing. My mouth turned dry. I rushed up the walkway. But it couldn’t be. I stood there face-to-face with . . . her. I wanted to turn my back toward her before a tear fell, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.
    “Do you live here?” she asked again, placing her hand on her hip.
    I wanted to open my mouth to answer, but . . . how could this be? Finally, I asked her, “Kyra, is that you?”
    She cracked a smile. “Do you know me?”
    The sound of her voice made my heart race. Now I was scared for real. But she looked so different. “You don’t remember me?” I asked her.
    “Do you know me?” she asked again.
    We stood there staring at each other for what felt like an eternity. This was not happening. I mean, what were the fuckin’ odds? I didn’t want to believe it was her. The dreads were telling me it wasn’t her. But the scar. I could see the scar. She was shot. I had seen countless gunshot wounds. That’s when I knew. Those eyes. I would never forget them. It was really her. My eyes again welled up with tears. “I didn’t kill her,” I whispered.
    She reached out and wiped my tears with her thumbs. I kissed her hand. She was trembling. “Are you okay?” She tilted her head to the side. She stared at me with a little more intensity. Finally she said, “Rick?” She kept repeating my name. “Rick?” Tears were rolling down her cheeks. She hugged herself as she backed up. “Rick. Your name is Rick. I remember you.” All of the color drained from her face.
    And then she fainted.
    I caught her just in time. My heart beat a mile a minute as I picked Kyra up from the porch and took her to my car. It felt as if I was performing a kidnapping. My palms were sweaty, and my adrenaline was high. Moving as if I was robbing a dope boy’s stash house, I held onto her for dear life, opened the car door, and lay her across the backseat. My cell rang, and the ringtone let me know that it was my fiancée, Nina.
    Immediately, guilt set in. “Shit,” I spat. Now I was feeling like I was caught cheating, which urged me to take the call. “Nina, baby. I’m in the middle of something. Can I call you back? Is everybody okay?”
    Silence lingered on the other end. Then she finally asked, “Is everything okay with you?” She was sounding as if she sensed that I was up to something.
    “Everything’s fine. Let me call you later.” I hung up before she could say anything. I didn’t want this moment to be ruined. I wanted her all to myself. I rushed back to the front porch and got Kyra’s things. She had two suitcases, a purse, and a shoulder bag. I popped the trunk, tossed everything inside, slammed it shut, and jumped into the front seat. Cranking the engine, I took a deep breath and then turned to take another look at Kyra. My mind and my eyes were at odds with each other. There she lay, just as beautiful as she was the last time that I saw her. Then the loud voice inside me yelled “ She’s alive! ” I couldn’t believe this was happening. The woman I fell in love with, the