Game of Destiny

4.

"Here." Hakim handed his friend the file.
"You doing what you do best tonight." He told him. Quan opened the file, seeing a picture of an unknown target inside. "Who's this?" Quan looked up from the documents in his hand. Hakim put the blunt in between his lips, sparking it with his black lighter. "Juan Prez." He stated. Hakim was kin to the drug world. He's been in the game since the age of sixteen; as horrible as it sounds. After both his parents left him for dead, he had to quickly become a man.

He learned the game from his big homie Reese, who later on died in prison. Hakim was smart. He knew how to move his product without being suspected.
He had the downtown side of Atlanta on lock with his kilos of cocaine and different kinds of weed. He was racking in weekly cash that the average person would make in a year. He vowed to give himself the luxury life; which is exactly what he had been doing.

Hakim stood at six foot six. He was tall and slim, his skin a warm shade of brown. Diamond slugs often graced his teeth His juicy lips and flirtatious eyes often landed him in messy situations with different females.

"I feel like I've seen this nigga before. Ion know though." Quan said, taking the blunt.
"We did a trade with him a few years back." Hakim tried jogging his friends memory. Quan was Hakim's right hand man. They were brothers by choice. Hakim plugged Quan into the drug game only about a year after he started getting his product out on the street. If it was anybody Hakim could trust and depend on; it was Q.

Quan nodded, asking no further questions. He didn't need to know why Hakim wanted him dead. It wasn't his business. He got paid good money being a hit man. Shit, he was built for it. His athletic body and bulky arms could knock a mother fucker flat on their ass. Quan was also a beast when it came to knowing hand machines. He knew how to shoot a gun, any type of gun actually. And he never missed the intended target. Growing up, he didn't have the green grass or white picket fence.

All he had was a hard working mother, and a little sister. He grew up right here in the heart of Atlanta. He knew the entire city like the back of his hand.

They heard a loud smash causing Quan to reach for his gun from his waistband. Hakim did the same, pulling his gun from under the table. The two left the room with caution. When Hakim walked out to the living room, he could see a huge crack in one of the windows. "The fuck." His face screwed up as he stepped towards the now broken window. He slowly peaked his head out.

He sucked his teeth when he took notice to the black Nissan Altima outside his house. "It's Ashanti ass." He told Quan. They both tucked their gun away. "You gotta stop fuckin' with these crazy ass bitches." Quan shook his head. "I know your hoe ass ain't talking." Hakim mugged before going to open his front door. He eyed Ashanti like she was stupid. "Really?" He held his hands up then dropped them back at his side. "It certainly got your attention." Her shoulders went up then down; unbothered by the scene. "I want my shit!" She demanded.

"Yo ass ain't have to throw no rock through my shit." He said. Ashanti felt the need to do something drastic since Hakim had been ignoring her phone calls and text messages. Quan stood behind him as they went back and fourth. He looked at the girl standing beside Ashanti, realizing it was the same chick from the club. He licked his lips, looking Destiny up and down. He trailed back to his vivid encounter with her that night.

The two awkwardly made eye contact. "Give my shit!" Ashanti repeated, charging at Hakim this time. He grabbed her hands, stopping the hits from coming. "We be back." He announced, pulling her into the house. Quan chuckled, allowing his friend to handle his business. He looked over at Destiny, who was still leaning on her friends car.

"You bring your home girl here to start trouble?" Quan spoke loud enough for her to hear since they were a good distance apart. Destiny smirked. She took notice to who the guy was, remembering him from a couple nights ago. She didn't think she'd ever run into him again unless it was at the club.
"What a small world", she thought to herself.
Quan approached where she stood; leaning on the car. "F.Y.I, I did not bring my friend here for any drama. She's a grown woman. That's between her and Hakim." She told him.

"Mm. I see." He ran his hand through his twisted hair that was badly in need of a redo. "I didn't get your name?" She looked up at him for a brief moment. He licked his lips, "Quan, but you can call me Q." He told her, slipping her a clear view of his white teeth when he smiled. She took a mental note to remember his name for some reason.

"So, you telling me you couldn't stop your ass crazy friend from busting my boys window?" Quan questioned. Destiny bursted into laughter, "It's not my situation to defuse, honestly." She told him. "Mm." He lowkey scanned her face for the third time. He couldn't deny her beauty as the sun from outside beamed on her skin. "How long you been bartending?" He decided to make conversation as they awaited Hakim and Ashanti's return.

"About six months now." She answered.
"Six months, huh? So that make you..." He trailed off, waiting for her to pick up on where he was going. She chuckled, "Twenty." She wasn't the girl that lied about her age to get next to a nigga— not now, not ever. Quan was caught off guard by her response. She looked and carried herself in a pleasant manor rather than many girls her age. "Well, I think your beautiful. Would you let me take you on a nice date?" He attempted to shoot his shot.

Though she wasn't interested in having any relations, she found it hard to deny his offer. "And why should I say yes?" She teased. Quan detected that she was slightly playing hard to get; which caused him to shake his head and chuckle humorously. He enjoyed when a girl played hard to get. "I can't force you say yes, but I can promise you it'll be the best night of your life." He took a few steps closer to her. He was confident in his response. Her cheeks flushed, "Okay. One date." She agreed to going out with him.

A grin plastered across his face as he nodded.
"Put your number in my phone?" He slid the phone from his pocket. Destiny took it, typing in her number on the keypad. She could feel his gaze on her. "Here." She handed him back his phone, slightly touching the palm of his hand. Quan looked down at the screen before pressing the call button. She could feel her phone vibrating in her back pocket before pulling it out. "Had to make sure it wasn't a fake." He said, causing her to laugh.

Hakim and Ashanti were soon spotted walking through the front door. Her hands didn't contain any of her belongings as she got into the drivers seat of her car. Destiny and Quan said their goodbyes before Ashanti pulled off from the curbside.
"What happened to getting your stuff?" She questioned. Ashanti bit down on her lip as she drove, "We talked it out. I forgave him and we're gonna try and make our relationship better." She explained to her best friend.

Destiny shook her head. She occasionally expressed that Ashanti was better than this— she deserved more than a cheating, manipulating boyfriend.
"I know you don't see it, but he's a good guy." Ashanti added. It was unhealthy how toxic Hakim could be, and how Ashanti normalized his actions. However, Destiny kept silent when it came to the two. Talking to her friend had become pointless and she wasn't one to speak on people's relationships— in the end, folks gone do as they please.
She was simply there to support Ashanti whenever it was needed. If she wanted to continue painting over his skin; that was her choice to make.