ain’t coming back to these streets for nothing, man. And everybody knows those who walk these streets aren’t going anywhere but right on these goddamn streets. Where she is, you’re never going.”
He’d made sure of that.
Dropped every cent he had into lodging and food and books and whatever else his sister needed when she won that scholarship to a private school in Brooklyn for the arts. No matter what, he was going to keep making sure Rose could stay right where she was for as long as she wanted to be there.
“Like you, too, right?” he heard Diesel shout out behind him. “You’re walking these streets, too, Ren. Where the fuck are you going, huh? Right here, man.”
Was that supposed to hurt?
It didn’t.
It wasn’t news to Renzo where he was going to live and die. These streets had been mean to him for his entire life. Maybe they’d be kind when they finally killed him.
He wasn’t holding his breath.
• • •
Renzo stepped off the city bus, and kept his head down as he walked through the people waiting at the bus stop. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he always felt out of place when he wasn’t walking his own streets. Maybe that shit was all in his mind, but it still felt very real to him and not something he could escape.
It didn’t take long before he was passing a row of brownstones with carefully manicured flower pots on the steps, and shined railings leading up to the front doors. Rose was already waiting at the very end of the block on the front steps of a brownstone that had been converted to an apartment of sorts for students of her school. Like a dormitory off school grounds. Rose could stay at the private school, and it would be cheaper, but the rooms were full. They had to make due elsewhere.
Renzo dropped down on the steps to sit beside his seventeen-year-old sister, and handed over a doggy bag full of sweets from her favorite bakery in the Bronx. He made the trip up to visit her once a week just to make sure she was okay, and had everything she needed. Usually, he dropped off cash and took care of whatever it was she needed until he would be back around again. He never forgot to bring those sweets, either.
Rose smiled as she peeled open the bag to peek inside despite already knowing what would be there waiting for her. “Smells like heaven.”
Renzo laughed, and leaned back on the steps. “Diabetes is in your future, Rose.”
His sister shrugged. “Whatever. I’ll die happy, then.”
“Pretty sure that’s not how diabetes works, actually.”
“Stop judging me.”
She said that through a mouthful of half-eaten puff pastry. Renzo could only shake his head, and enjoy the moment he had with his sister. All too soon, he was going to need to catch another bus, head across the city, pick up a package of drugs, and get back home so he could put Diego to bed. Tomorrow, he’d get up before the sun had even risen in the sky, and get out on the streets to make sure his guys had their product to deal, so no one was chasing his ass for that. He’d get to his own territory, and wait to make some extra cash, too.
It was a never-ending cycle.
“How’s Diego?” Rose asked.
Renzo sighed. “You know how everybody says the twos and threes are terrible for a reason?”
“Not really.”
“Well, they do. The fours aren’t much better.”
Rose grinned a little. “But he loves you.”
Good thing.
Next to Rose, the only person Diego cared for was Renzo. He blamed that on their neglectful, addict mother, honestly. She barely looked at Diego when she did show up at their apartment, and that was usually just long enough to sleep before she was gone again. Although, lately, she’d been around more.
It was just enough to make Diego hope his mother would stick around, and then she’d take off once more. Renzo was left picking up all the broken pieces of a four-year-old boy who was learning far too young that there was nothing in this world for people like them.
Not even love.
“How’s school?” Renzo asked.
“Good. I painted a naked man yesterday. That was interesting.”
Renzo’s head snapped to the side, and his gaze narrowed. “What?”
Rose let out a laugh. “Relax. Art class. They’re professionals.”
Professional what?
Nude people?
“He was like forty,” Rose added. “Chill out.”
That only made it slightly better. Renzo decided to just keep his mouth shut, though. What else