The blood in Milan's veins all, but froze over as her brother's words washed over her like a cold bucket of ice water.

"You gon' tell him to do what, n*gga?" She asked him through gritted teeth.

Devon stood his ground again, only shuffling his feet in a more comfortable stance to lean against the doorframe of her room.

"You heard me, Milan. I told you stop running around with Pharaoh. You don't fucking listen." He rebutted, the rumble in his voice showing no regret for his decision.

As if she was suddenly possessed by the true spirit of insanity, Milan began to throw anything and everything she could get her hands on at her brother. Her alarm clock was ripped from the wall, her TV remote, shoes upon shoes until she had thrown everything and was steps away from him.

Although her brother was a few inches taller than her she dared to grab his chest by his jacket. Pulling him closer to her until their noses almost touched. "You fucking disgust me, Devon. You put a fucking hit out on me because I was out on a date?! You tried to kill me!" She screamed in his face, throwing him away from her.

He didn't go far, just back to his original place by the door. He was riled up now as well, his breathing deeper as Milan paced around her room.

"Ain't nobody tried to kill you. I needed to wake yo' ass up. You ain't no fucking princess in a tower, Lani. You keep fucking around with Pharaoh, you gon' get fucking touched and they ain't gon' spare you like I had Marco do you."

"Marco?! He's a fucking kid, what the hell you doing having him do shit like that?"

DeMarco was a fresh recruit of the Vice Disciples. Not even out of high school, but had enough street smarts to earn him a small place as a corner boy selling dime bags of narcotics. Even Chrisanto hadn't given the boy clearance to carry out hits on people. He didn't have it in him.

Not yet, at least.

"He's seventeen. He can make his own decisions." Devon stood by his decision. Milan speared him with a sorrowful look, suddenly instead of her twenty five year old brother she saw the boy he was when their parents died. He was still that same scared, vengeful little boy.

That didn't give him an excuse to send other boys to their grave.

Her subconscious snapped.

Ramses threat on her shooter's head he promised her earlier today didn't feel as sweet in her belly anymore.

"Yeah, except he's not you, Devon. He has parents. He still goes to school. He has a chance and you're gonna send him to prison if you keep putting a gun in his hands." Milan ranted, still walking in lines around her room, but she stopped to look at how her words effected her brother.

There was no movement.

"I ain't make him do nothing he didn't want to do. He's loyal. You need to take a page from him." Devon ruled, stone-willed. Milan laughed, but there was no humor behind it.

"Yeah, I need to go blindly into danger all because you say so. I need to be loyal to the streets that took my mom and dad from me. I need to be mad like you, huh? Let that shit go, Devon. You're too fucking grown to be protecting invisible lines in the street and up my ass about a n*gga who literally saved your life." Milan went on to say from her place in her room.

The distance between her and her brother seemed to be growing at an all time high, and it wasn't just because she'd put some space in between them physically.

"Do you even know what you're doing? You put a hit out on your sister. I'm the only blood you got left out here." She called to her brother's humanity. Her brother, who she believed would do anything in the world for her because she'd do the same for him.

"Those streets fed you, Milan. When granny and 'nem couldn't afford shit but spam and eggs. When you were crying about the water being cold when you had to take a bath. The streets made it hot. You my blood, but you need to start acting like it."

His words pierced her mind. The smell of fried spam in her memory made her stomach turn.

They didn't have much as kids once their parents died, but they never wanted for anything. The water may have been cold, but it was on. She may have not wanted spam and eggs, but her belly was full.

He could not put that same wickedness in him inside of her. Not right now.

"I am acting like it. I pull my own weight now. I don't come to you for shit no more. You're the one that needs the fucking wake up call," Milan walked up on her brother again, poking him in his chest which he shook off a few seconds too late. "And if you try to touch me again, I swear to God— I swear on my fuckin' momma, I'll kill you first."

And she meant it.

Milan was not violent in the slightest of ways, but the way her brother was acting was ridiculous. She didn't know if the stress of the game was getting to him or what. However, she was not going to live her life in fear and definitely not because of her own brother.

Devon cracked a smile at her threat, looking down at his sister like she was a toy poodle.

"With what, Lani? You can't even shoot." He jested, unfazed by her choice words. Milan resisted the urge to smile back. The tenseness of their conversation dissipating.

She shook her hair back from her neck and folded her arms—to look more threatening. "With my bare fucking hands, shit. I don't need no gun. Come in this bitch and choke yo' old ass out." She mimed out her words by loosely gripping Devon's neck and shaking him around. He easily got out of her hold and pushed her off of him. They both staggered back with soft laughter.

The blackening mood was gone, but not all the way.

What Devon did was serious, and in the back of her mind, Milan knew that unless someone got control of him he'd get more reckless. Especially because he thought he was doing what was right.

So, she pulled the only card she had that out ranked his thinking.

"Plus, Chrisanto already cleared my relationship with Ramses. Find another sister to fuck with." She name dropped effortlessly, sitting on her bed again. She watched as Devon sobered up again, his resolve stoney once more.

"What do you mean he cleared it? How the hell did he even know?" Devon asked her, taken aback. Milan shrugged, glancing her nails and then her phone home screen. She had a few missed notifications.

"He came to my job the other night and told me to stay close to him. That he knows I'm loyal, because of you of course." She added the last bit to calm her brother's visibly flaring temper.

When Chrisanto pays a personal visit to someone it usually ends in bloodshed. Devon was his frontman now, he shouldn't be paying anyone personal visits.

"He ain't fucking clear you, Milan. He's gonna set Pharaoh up and try to use you—"

"You don't think I fucking know that? I may not be in the streets, but I grew up in them just like you. I can handle myself." Milan silenced her brother. It was his turn to pace back and forth now, like she'd just told him the house was gonna explode.

"Handle yourself then, Lani. But when you step out that door, we ain't fucking family no more. I can't keep protecting you."

His words didn't hurt her. He hadn't been acting like her brother apart from their sharing of the cereal in the kitchen. Devon had been on his own, just like he wanted to be, since their parents died.

"We ain't been family outside the house for a long time. I'mma be good." Milan assured him coldly, walking up to her bedroom door and closing it. Effectively ending their conversation just like that. When she went back to her bed, she stripped down into just her panties and shirt before lying in it.

A shoot out and being shunned by my brother. All in one day.

***

The next morning her brother was gone early as usual.

Being so high up in rank in his gang took most of his time, you saw earlier that even his babymomma couldn't get a hold of him easily and that was his whole child with her.

That was none of Milan's concern though. She had enough on her plate, and with Ramses hanging around her the load of things she was juggling seemed to keep getting heavier.

When it came time for her to go to work, for once she took her time. She relaid her frontal wig and straightened her hair until it was pin straight, running down her spine like onyx ink. When she looked in the mirror as she did her make up, she marveled at her new scar. Just as Miss Yvonne had told her, her scared healed up well and the thin scab that had covered her graze mark didn't dim her beauty any.

I was lucky.

She thought as she carefully did her make up in a way that would not irritate the wound further. Despite living around violence most of her life, it never touched her.

Not until now.

And even then, she was barely scathed. The news reported on the pancake house shooting as a random act of violence. No casualties were reported, but the shop would be closed for renovations for the next week. The fact that it wasn't random and it wasn't even a message for Ramses, but for her, is what called for pause when she heard the news.

The message was received for sure. It was a Sunday, so the theme at the club would be football fantasy. She pulled on her dark brown tights and low rise dark denim shorts. Her chosen team was the Kansas City Chiefs, Milan loved the way she looked in bright red. It highlighted the warm undertones in her rich pecan skin.

The top she wore was of course cropped so high if she jumped her bra would show, but as she looked in the mirror she didn't mind at all. She looked damn good. Her shoes for tonight were white Como De Garçon high top sneakers, she laced them in a way where there was a bow just above the tongue of the shoe.

Grabbing a white fanny pack to match, she grabbed a long denim jacket for her to walk to her car and threw her keys, phone, and other belongings into the pouch.

When she arrived at work it was just around six thirty and the place was brimming with folks. Men came to watch the game and be served by pretty women, it wasn't rocket science at all. Walking up to Marcus who was scanning people with a metal detecting bar, she let her hand graze across his upper back, when he turned to look at her she smiled.

"Thank you for taking me home last night. I wouldn't have made it without you." She jokingly exaggerated. Marcus returned her smile and nodded at her, "Anytime, beautiful."

"Can I take you home tonight, mamas?"

A voice called from the line, when Milan looked in that direction a tall light skin man was talking to her. He was decked out in a black Bulls jersey, black jeans, and black Nike dunks. He didn't look bad, but she wasn't interested. She gave him a pretty smile, tossing her hair to the side, and nodded.

"Yeah, after you buy two sections."

The line of guys jeered and chuckled at her answer. Some of them slapping him on his back as they took her reply as a small burn. The guy speaking nodded with good nature.

"I'm driving the tinted out Charger! See you after the game!" He called after her when Milan took her leave from the conversation.

He better hope somebody don't pull off in his shit they way he flexing.

Her mind laughed at the man.

It took a minute for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting in the club, but once they did she felt at home again. Carina, her manager, nodded at her to recognize her presence and Milan smiled at her. She was busy serving a table herself.

Scanning the room, Milan saw a section of three men that looked like they hadn't been served and walked over to them. "Good evening y'all, my name's Milan. Any drinks or food tonight?"

The men turned their attention from the TVs to her in the drop of a hat. As per usual, they took their time taking in her appearance.

The longer they stare, the bigger your tip.

Carina's voice from when she first started her job here reminded her. So, she didn't take any offense, simply waited expectantly until one of the men cleared their throat. "Yeah give us a round of anything dark y'all got. Something like you." He smoothly flirted.

Milan laughed, she had to give him his props, she hadn't heard that before. "Okay got it. Anything else?" She recovered. "Some hot wings too. That come with fries?" One of the other men asked and she nodded.

"I'll have that right out for y'all. Enjoy the game." She told them before walking away.

"She fine as hell for a dark skin girl. I can do something with all'at." She heard one of them comment.

This caused her to roll her eyes.

Always for a dark skin girl, they don't ever forget that part.

As she walked up to the bar and placed the order for their drinks, she noticed Daya putting in an order as well. She also remembered their last interaction wasn't that sweet, so she waved her over. Begrudgingly, and in true dramatic Daya fashion, the girl took her slow sweet time to get to her.

"Wassup?" Daya dryly greeted, leaning over the bar. Tonight she wore a dark green Green Bay Packers tee shirt, cropped just like Milan's and black shorts. She had on chunky heeled Steve Madden boots as well.

"Shit." Milan replied, leaning her back against the bar, the opposite direction of Daya. "I'm sorry for snapping at you the other night. Chrisanto's visit had my head fucked up." She told her friend, and Daya turned her face towards Milan for the first time. She thoughtfully nodded for a second before muttering under her breath. "Damn right he did."

"You tell Devon?" She asked quickly after, which made Milan roll her eyes. The mention of her brother right now made her irritated in a million ways.

"Girl you heard about the pancake house shooting right?"She asked instead, and immediately Daya perked up. "Yeah. That shit is crazy. They said it was random though..."

This is where Milan shook her head. "No, g. Devon put the hit out on me. I was on a date with Pharaoh."

"He did what?!" Daya screeched loudly, enough for a few patrons to look back at her. She paid them no mind. Milan just kept her face straight, her eyes watching the game with a blank stare.

"Bro, I hope you cussed his ass out. Damn near beat him for it too. You could've died Milan." Daya stressed as her drinks were passed to her from behind the bar.

"Oh, I did," Milan started, a bitter chuckle bubbling out of her. "He told me we're not family anymore." She revealed lowly. Of course she was sad about it, but she knew she didn't have the time to be.

"Well good fucking riddance. We'll talk more later." Daya told her as she passed the platter the drinks were on, onto her shoulder and walked off towards whoever she was serving.

A couple of seconds later, Milan's order came up as well. Before the bartender handed them off to her she grabbed Milan's wrist and held it there. "Daya's right," The girl started, she was a new server. Her name tag read Colette. "Any man that puts a hit out on you, ain't a man you wanna be around."

Brothers included.

Milan gave her a brittle smile before taking her order, the hot wings adding a little weight to the serving tray so she held it with both hands as she walked. She reached the table of guys from early and set the tray down, passing the drinks around and setting the food in the middle.

"Alright that's everything. Y'all need anything else?" She gave them the courtesy to add more. The same one who hit on her before was looking at her with a heated hunger in his eyes. It didn't intimidate her, but it was something to note.

"Naw we good. I wanna give you your tip early though. Turn around for me." He persuaded. This was not out of the ordinary. She was a bottle girl and the men that came usually were extra when they thought they were in a position of power.

Trying her best to keep the atmosphere light, Milan gave him a quick little spin, but before she could turn back around towards him the man gripped her ass with a strength that made her yelp. Acting quick, she grabbed his hand and twisted it backwards until he was wincing in pain.

"Keep your hands to yourself and keep that lil ass twenty you clutching on." Milan growled lowly at him, throwing his hand away from her.

She proceeded to walk away, but she heard once again the man talking.

"Dark ass bitch."

With that, she turned around and flipped him off doubly.

"Ya mama."

His friends couldn't help but to snicker at that. Their friend obviously butt hurt.

After that encounter, the night went smoothly. There were no more rude patrons and even the table that had the handsy customer did end up leaving her a fifty dollar tip. She laughed as she put it in her bra.

At closing, Daya approached her again with a large black Telfar bag on her shoulder. "So, what are you gonna do about y'all's apartment. You sure you feel comfortable staying with him still?"

Milan gave her a watery smile and shrugged, looking to the door of the establishment. "I don't really have a choice do I? I still pay half the rent."

Daya's lips pursed at her answer. "Yes you do. Come stay with me for a bit—"

Milan opened her mouth to protest, but Daya gave her a look.

"At least until things calm down between the two of y'all. I know you'd do the same for me."

And that was that.

The girls went over to Milan's apartment and got her necessities and enough clothes for a couple of months.

"Where the hell you think you're going, Milan?" Devon asked as she and Daya pushed a box of clothes out of the door.

"With family, muh'fucker." Daya answered before Milan could.

Devon smacked his lips before retreating back into his room. Milan felt bad for a second, but when she was reminded of the seriousness of what he'd said and done, it dissipated as quickly as it came.

They packed up both of their cars with as much stuff as they could before they drove over to Daya's place. She lived on the east side of town. Certified Blood Lord territory.

The girls brought a few things in the house and chose to leave the heavy stuff for the morning. Milan looked around Daya's studio apartment and smiled.

"So... we're roommates for a bit, huh?" Milan awkwardly joked. Daya laughed loudly at her expression and took the liberty of spreading out on her red velvet couch. She let out a big yawn before holding her head with one of her hands.

"Girl, I can't even believe I got you over here. This impulsive ass shit. Must be the Sagittarius in me."

Milan smiled brightly at that and went over to the couch as well and hugged her friend. Daya was not an affectionate person, so the hug was a little stiff, but it was returned nonetheless. "Thank you so much."

Daya returned the smile and looked around her apartment. "Of course. Long as you stay on your side and I stay on mine, we'll both make it out alive." She feigned seriousness, but the humor brimming in her voice ruined it.

Gesturing broadly to the small space around them, "Girl what fucking sides?! We ain't dividing your shoebox!"

The two bursted into loud fits of laughter because it was so true.

Although the space was small, Milan was grateful to have an escape from under Devon's thumb.

Moving across town felt like putting an ocean between them.

***

(a//n: still not edited, duh. its 5:27 am. love u.)