Back to the Streets by Treasure Hernandez

on the floor watching movies and stuffing their faces. He noticed that Halleigh didn’t say much, but she seemed to loosen up a little bit as they sat in each other’s presence. They laughed at Martin Lawrence’s Runteldat, and they seemed to be enjoying each other’s company.
    Before Maury knew it, it was almost midnight and Halleigh was asleep next to him. He picked her up, and as if she belonged in his arms, she rested her head on his chest as he carried her to his room. He didn’t know why he didn’t put her in one of the guest rooms. She just looked right in his bed, and since that was the room she’d chosen to sleep in earlier, he figured it was where she was most comfortable. After laying her down, he went back to the living room, plopped down on his couch, and finished watching the movies until he too went to sleep.

Chapter Seven
    M alek walked into his small apartment in Grand Blanc, a suburb just outside of Flint. He went straight to the back bedroom, where his safe was located. He emptied the contents of a brown paper bag into the safe. He’d just made a pick-up from the money spot. He placed the two stacks neatly on top of the others and stared at the stacks of money he’d accumulated working under Jamaica Joe. He would hit Joe off with his take at the end of the week, but nevertheless, he was still getting money. His life had changed so quickly over the past couple of years. He once was a role model in the community, but now he was a certified D-boy and running blocks.
    Malek began to think about Halleigh and how much he missed her voice, her presence, her touch. He couldn’t believe that she fell into the lifestyle she had chosen. I miss that girl so much. I can’t believe she’s out there trickin’, though. That’s not Halleigh. It’s not her . He walked into the living room and flopped down on his sectional sofa.
    The last time he’d seen Halleigh, in the restaurant moments before they had the shootout with Sweets’ crew, she had nothing but hate for him. Seeing him with Tariq, the man who had raped her, she wasn’t trying to hear anything Malek had to say. Halleigh should have known him better than to think that he would knowingly team up with someone who had hurt her.
    He thought about her constantly, but knew that the streets had a tight hold on her. Before Malek could even finish his thought, he heard a knock at his door. From the pattern of the knock, he instantly knew who it was. Also, he’d only let one person know where he lived, so he had a pretty good idea who was knocking. He got up to answer it, and when he opened the door, Joe was standing on the other side.
    â€œWhat’s good?” Malek slapped hands with Joe and walked into the back room to get Joe’s cut. He’d planned to wait until the end of the week to break him off, but since he was there, might as well handle it now.
    â€œWhat’s going on, fam?” Joe asked as he walked in, closing the door behind him. He walked over to Malek’s couch and took a seat. He looked around and chuckled. “Yo, you need to move into a bigger place. You getting money now. You gotta start enjoying it.”
    Malek, unlike other hustlers who were making paper, preferred to live modestly. What the hell did he need all that bling-bling for anyway? As far as he was concerned, all that flashy stuff did anyway was bring attention to him, which meant drama and trouble would soon follow. So he decided that he would stay low-key in the game. He’d seen enough black people get the things they wanted, yet end up begging for the things they needed. He wasn’t going to fall into that trap.
    Joe began setting up the chessboard that sat on Malek’s coffee table.
    A few minutes later, Malek emerged from the back room with a small duffle bag full of money, approximately $52,000. When he saw that Joe had set up the board, he immediately knew that Joe wanted to