Sinner's Heist

"15

Amos let out an aired snigger avoiding actually answering thinking it was rhetorical, and left the building with a slight pep in his step. Kielce caught the door before it closed and followed him to Amos' dad truck they'd borrowed for the day—not that he had anywhere to go or be. Kielce pulled the passenger door forward and climbed in as Amos took his place in the driver seat, cranking up as the engine howled in agony, showing it's need of a tune up.

"Motherfucka can't even get his truck fixed." Amos grumbled in annoyance, just thinking on the laziness of his father as he reversed out of the parking space and out of the lot entirely. Kielce shook his head before picking up a topic for conversation.

"When are you gonna get a car, nigga? C'mon. I know you ain't macking on foot out here." Kielce grumbled playfully, leaning his head back on the seat torn material headrest.

Amos smirked, driving with one hand as he blew a breath over the other and rubbed his nails against his shirt. "Well, you know me." Kielce hard scoff made him stop and laugh. "Nah, Latrell and I bought a car and go half on it. He's working right now so he got it. All the places I need to be is in walking distance. Besides, my money going to better shit right now."

"Such as what? You paying bills at home?"

Amos nodded furiously. "Shit, most of them. The ones that, that raggedy ass government check of his can't cover. I help out some others too."

"Aw shit, must got you a girl then taking all your money. Thought I taught you better."

Amos waved him off, disagreeing. He stopped in advanced as couple of cars were lined up at the red light. "Nah, I ain't got a girl. You remember Bebe, though?"

"Big booty Bebe?"

"Her booty isn't all that big." Amos made a twisted face as Kielce hollered, rest his fist over his mouth, and said the comeback, "You would know, huh?"

Amos smacked his lips, frowning up at Kielce before maneuvering the stick shift as the traffic started moving. "Naw, I don't really fuck her anymore. I just help her out y'know. She getting money, but I'm not too fond of how so I help where I can. She be ready to smack my head off when I do, too."

"Um, how's her mom doing? I remember you talking about she was sick last time I was up here."

"She'd got worse, she's unresponsive. Barely even talking now. Nine siblings, no dad and barely a mom? I can't help but pitch a little yunno what I'm saying? Took the boys for a haircut the other week, maaan. She was heated, but thankful. She's stubborn as hell, but she realizes I'm only trying to help at least a little."

Kielce agreed in understanding. He stared forward at the road as his phone chimed, alerting the arrival of a new message. He ignored it for the time being and stayed engaged in the conversation. "I remember that feeling personally. When I was all into that street shit, felt like I was the community's provider and hero. Having to help everybody out, giving money to this person and that person until I stepped back and realized I'm out here risking my whole life for niggas who sit back and relax with their mouth open." Kielce stated, growing silent and Amos gave him that moment.

It was still silence until Kielce shuffled in his seat, gaining a more comfortable spot as he cleared his throat. "Listen 'Moe. I didn't just come down here to visit. I wanted to check up on you too, man. Ya...ya dad think you're selling an–" Kielce couldn't even finish before Amos spat out "What?" with knitted brows.