When They Align

Chapter 8

"Yo Jamie, there goes your pretty ting," Kit muttered, nodding towards Aaliyah. She was laughing with some boy, the two of them walking side by side like they’d known each other for time.

Jamie’s jaw tightened as he clocked them.
"I guess she’s got a man," he said coldly, still watching.

Kit gave him a side-eye. Could’ve been wrong, could’ve been right but either way, he weren’t about to stress it. To Kit, Aaliyah looked like the type that brought more headache than calm.

"Let’s go," Jamie cut in, turning his back on the sight. His crew followed, sliding into their cars.

Times were tense. Someone was chatting to the feds, making it near impossible to push food without heat. Every move his people made got flagged, and now a rival gang one everyone thought had scattered was creeping back onto the map. Their reputation was no joke, and it was starting to cast shadows on Jamie’s own.

Inside the warehouse, Jamie stood over a man tied to a chair, his voice laced with disgust.
"So it’s you."

Leyton smirked despite the ropes digging into his wrists.
"What you’re doing is wrong. Modie’s gonna right you when he’s out. You think you’re running this shit clean, but you ain’t."

Jamie leaned closer, smirk sharp as a blade.
"Modie ain’t doing shit." He shook his head. "And I don’t like rats."

With that, he gave a nod. Two of his men moved forward, knives glinting under the dim light. Jamie stepped out as Leyton’s screams echoed, the sound following him like a song he didn’t care to hear.

On the drive to Stefan’s school, his thoughts wandered back to her. Aaliyah. So all along she had a man. A man who, from the look of it, couldn’t even handle her. Who was he, though, to show her what she was missing if she’d already chosen where to stand?

Reaching the school, Jamie drew in a deep breath. Trouble was written all over Stefan, but when the headteacher herself had called him down, he knew it was bad.

Walking into the office, he found his brother sitting small, head down.

"Glad you could join us, Mr. Tovell," Mrs. Hatchfield said, gesturing for him to sit beside Stefan.

"Stefan, would you like to tell your brother what you did?" she asked, her smile tight as rope.

Stefan shook his head, refusing to speak.

"He called his teacher a dickhead," she said flatly. Then encouraged the entire class to chant it. That’s unacceptable. As a result, your brother is suspended for two weeks."

Her tone shut down any chance for argument. She slid a letter of suspension across the desk, then dismissed them with a curt nod.

The ride home was quiet, heavy with unspoken words. Jamie gripped the wheel, trying not to let his frustration boil over.

Then, out the corner of his eye, movement caught him. Aaliyah. Standing on the pavement, one hand on her hip, the other holding a little kid’s hand. No man by her side this time.