𝐀 𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐠'𝐬 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 | 𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 1

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 4 - League of Trap Queens

💜✨♕︎  𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐚 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐨𝐧  ♕︎✨💜

Grandma entered a little while after I did. I quietly followed her around the room with my eyes, the anticipation of what she'll say once she settles next to me is stifling. Dorothy stops by the window facing the road, she drew one of the red curtains aside to peep. To my absolute horror, that same song started playing – it was low at first but gradually grew louder. If I had one wish, it would be for the ground to swallow and digest me. She didn't move until the music faded out – meaning the car had passed.

She sauntered over to me with a scowl on her face, then sat down on my left on the couch with floral prints wrapped in plastic. I dare not look at her, instead training my gaze on the gray rug under my feet.

“I don't want you anywhere near him. Do I make myself clear?” she pointed at me as she began speaking. “Young G is bad news in the form of a handsome, talented young man. He created and is the current leader of the Blood City Ballas Gang. That's what the 'BCBG' you see spray painted on every fence, gate, and wall means. He kills weekly, the dead bodies you see turn up dismembered in igloos around town – he is responsible for them.

“You're a beautiful girl with a bright future, I don't care how fine he is, don't fall into his trap. I saw the way he looked at you, my husband looked at me the same way, and before long we were married with three kids. Heed my warnings, Jayla, stay away from the boys of Blood City.”

I nodded obediently, believing every word she says. He admitted to being a Thug, so none of this surprises me – but the fact that he killed all of those people, chopped them up, and put them in igloos, is bone-chillingly disturbing. I once witnessed a blue igloo being opened, there were human limbs mixed with ice cubes inside. As you can guess, I still haven't recovered from that.

“Jayla,” she cupped my cheeks and used the pads of her thumbs to wipe my tears. “Baby, I just want the best for you. Don't cry. No one is perfect. We make mistakes, but our mistakes do not define us – they're simply reminders of what not to do again. Cheer up. C'mon, I made your favorite.”

Her effulgent smile lifted my spirit, I sniffed and mirrored it. Dorothy left me and walked into the kitchen, I followed behind her and held my plate as she dished out white rice with stewed pork and a side of mashed potatoes drenched in gravy. When I sat down to eat she placed two jars of seasoning into the cupboard filled with bottles of spices and seasonings, then she went into the mini fridge to pour me a glass of Mango juice.

“Today's Sunday, you're not going to school 'til Wednesday, just to be safe. Jayla, I'll be taking you to the hospital tomorrow. I hope that boy hasn't given you any diseases, or worse a child,” she pushed her glasses up her nose and picked up the magazines on the table. “When I catch him I'm gonna bitch-slap him so good his brain cells will rewire.”

I giggled with a forkful of rice in my mouth. “Yes, Grandma.”

I, too, hope that he didn't impregnate me. Having a thug be the father of your first child is an embarrassment in my eyes – no matter how handsome and sinfully hot they may look.

····
Two days later - Wednesday.

If school ain't the most boring place on this planet I don't know where is – probably because I don't have any friends. No girls want to talk to me, and the boys keep talking about my ass and cat-calling me. Right now I'm sitting on the lush grass under a tree at the back of the school near the football field and basketball court. With a sad pout I open my lunch box and remove my sandwich, I gently peel the plastic off and bite into it.