𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐀𝐇

Chapter Two

ISAIAH
*Before*

One Year Ago

    My shirt's clinging onto my skin, damp amongst my perspiration. The wooden floor is mercilessly sticky.

And picking up throughout the spacious, crowded club, and beneath the flickering strobe lights of fuchsia, fluxes the strong aroma of alcohol. It's so inevitable you'd think the thick air in this place was intoxicated itself.

I can't stop moving. And their swaying bodies are bouncing against mine in sync - earning for a halt to never even cross my absent mind. I don't think I can stop. I don't want to.

In a pair of dark sweats and one of my black v-neck t-shirts, my hands are gripping onto some girl's waist; her caramel skin hot beneath my fingertips as she vestures a laced black bralette atop tight shorts.

The bass booming within this place obtains the rhythm of my rapid pulse, as the girl I'm grinding against turns to run her hands through my ruffled black hair. Her hazel eyes latch onto mine - already clouded with a toxic lust on display.

"I'm Sasha," she shouts over the envious music, leaning next to my ear while her palms rest against the muscles of my bare arms, "tell me your name."

The hold my teeth have on my bottom lip can't suppress the smug grin threatening to plaster across my face.

"Isaiah." I say over the music - a couple bouncing bodies briefly colliding with our own moving figures a moment.

Sasha's red lips curve upward immensely - her skin beneath my grip on either side of her waist remaining hot and burning. And her gaze flicks down to my lips.

"I like that name... Isaiah." she leans forward to linger her increased breath against my lips, in a teasing manner.

And hungrily, whilst remaining a bit too tipsy on cloud nine, I pull Sasha forward for her chest to slam against mine. Her breath hitches from it, and I keep my blazing brown irises on hers.

"Then show me how much you like it." I growl against her, bringing a finger up to trace her lipstick coated lips under my touch.

Amongst her softening expression, Sasha's craving gaze settles on my mouth, for one solid second. Then her gaze flicks up to meet my awaiting gaze in short notice, before I catch sight of her form a sheepish grin.

Then her fingertips find mine, before she grasps my hand to lead the way. After pushing through dozens of sweaty people, Sasha takes us into a backroom of the crowded club; the flickering fuchsia lights still lingering and radiant behind the closed curtain.

In the desolate room of a few loveseats and tables with overflowing ashtrays here and there, Sasha places her hands on my chest to push me onto a leather couch.

My dark brown eyes revert onto hers whilst they reflect a glimmer of fuchsia, as she soon crawls onto my lap. Her hands roughly comb through my black hair, disheveling it even more; aggressively tilting my head back carelessly in the process.

Then Sasha's red lips connect with mine, hard. I kiss her back as if she were the only girl left in the world.

But truthfully, I couldn't care any less about her.

Having passionate 'feelings' for someone has just always been one of the things I've never really cared too much for, or even thought heavily about. At least for me anyway, I merely gather it as a waste of time.

I've got better things to do - with the gang.

Sasha's hands cling onto my v-neck shirt when my hands find her hips.

But before we know it the curtains from across the room draw open, and when I peer over Sasha's shoulder I spot Tommy walk in with some of the others behind him.

My lips peel from Sasha's, and she follows my gaze only to fall onto the cushion next to me. A grin suffices across my face.

"Glad to see you made it, boys." I start rather lowly due to the decreased music in the backroom. Tommy brings forth a suitcase to rest it across a low table's surface before me.

I can't help but smirk. "Is that the full 500 G's?" I question him, watching him incline his head sharply in turn.

I sit upright, before looking over my shoulder to tell Sasha to step out the room. And after one disapproving look across her beautiful face - and only one awaiting look from me in return - Sasha exits the room.

I set my jaw and turn my attention onto the suitcase again, before I open it. The green layers of banded cash then come to view, and a humorless chuckle escapes from me.

"Already washed and clean, huh?" I drag a finger across the green paper's smooth surface. My smirk widens. "Nice work gentlemen."

"It wasn't a problem, Bossman." Andria, another of the members who stands firmly next to Tommy, responds.

I realize some of my men have bottles of alcohol in their grasps, so I gesture towards one of them. "Hand me a bourbon."

I purse my lips into a hard line as Tommy goes to grab a small glass from the self-serving bar on the far right side of the room.

"Whoa, no." I say, causing him to instantly halt in his tracks. And I lazily point a finger to the bottle in Andrew's hand. "I meant the entire bottle." I clarify casually.

Tommy raises his brows, and turns around to retrieve the glass bottle - failing at holding back an amused grin.

And he then hands me the bottle of Kentucky's finest. I smirk once again, raising it up.

"Old fashioned," I start, fixating my gaze on the bottle in my grasp. "That's how we do it in Detroit." The members of my gang deliver only chuckles and nods.

"Let me show you just how good life is for us." I remark. "Mark my words. I won't ever open this bottle until something bad goes down, something that I, for myself, can't even handle. Something unbearable. A tragedy."

I feel my lips twitch up as the gang raises their bottles and glasses in toast.

"We will never face that. So here's to never popping open this cap, and to facing nothing but greater days." I showcase a curving smile, scanning my gaze across each of them. "Together."

--

Hello, loves!

The next chapter explains it all (Isaiah's reasoning to start fresh)! :)

Chapters three & four will be based on the past, for prominent reasons!

Hope you enjoyed! Please vote if you did!

LOVE YOU ALL!

xx