Moth to a Flame Read Online Free PDF Page B

him. His brown, smooth skin and bedroom eyes were attractive, and she gave him a flirtatious smile, She really got into her moves as Michael Jackson’s new hit blared from the speakers. She could tell by his cockiness that he was a little bit older than she. Not once did his eyes leave hers, letting her know that he was definitely staring at something he liked. He nodded at her when the song ended. She skated away with her girls, hoping that she had piqued his interest and that he would try to approach her. But to her surprise, when she turned back to look, their thing had passed. He was kicking it with the fellas and entertaining the next pretty young thing who had crossed his path. This put her in a funk the rest of the night. She purposefully walked past him, switching her wide hips so hard that she thought she had popped them out of place, but to no avail. He did not even notice, being too wrapped up in big-booty Kima, the neighborhood freak.
    Smacking her teeth, she turned to her girl Minnie and said, “This is lame. I’m outta here.”
    “You don’t want to hang out in the parking lot. Come on, Jus. You know that everybody’s going to stick around for at least an hour,” Minnie pleaded.
    “Nah, girl, I’m out, but you stay and groove. I’m right around the way so I can walk home. Call me tomorrow,” Justine said as she sat down to remove her skates. She hugged her best friend and headed out the door with the rest of the crowd. Dudes were already posted up outside waiting for the unofficial afterparty to begin. She got catcalls and “hey, babys” as she made her way across the lot. On the dark Flint city streets, she strolled carelessly. The city was completely different during that time. Affluence from the General Motors shops kept the residents well fed and crime was a rare occurrence, so she didn’t think twice about walking the six blocks to her crib.
    She was halfway home when the fear of what she may encounter when she arrived settled in. Her mother’s bed was like a revolving door, and oftentimes the men invited inside had roaming eyes and hands. A creepy feeling crawled up her spine as she turned the corner to her street, and saw the Chevy Caprice sitting in her driveway, letting her know that her mother was entertaining company. She was always left to fend for herself and had learned a long time ago that her mother was not her savior. Her mother’s motto was that grown bitches took care of themselves. “Since you got tits and ass you’s a grown bitch. You quit switching around here and my men might not want a taste,” she had said the first time Justine had told her mother about one of her boyfriend’s pedophiliac ways. She took a deep breath and used her key to open the door. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw her mother passed out in a liquor-induced coma while her company felt her up. Justine quickly tried to pass, but her path was blocked when her mother’s guy friend arose from the couch. A lone tear graced her cheek when she noticed the lustful look filling the man’s eyes. He was a new guy. She had never seen him before, but she had seen that look of desire many times. Her eyes fell to the floor. Not again, she thought miserably, already knowing what was to come.
     
     
    Benny Atkins was the man in his city. Young, fly, and fresh, he was in his prime. Out for a night on the town, he had let his friends talk him into doing something he never did ... relax. It was a celebration of sorts. Benjamin “Benny” Atkins had secured his first heroine connection, and he could only imagine the type of money he was about to come into. At twenty years old he had the world in the palms of his hands. I’ma show these niggas how to hustle ... how to get this money, he thought as he crossed one shell toe Adidas over the other, and leaned on his brand new Cadillac Deville. There was only one man standing in his way and that was Sherman Oaks, his old connect. Sherman was a washed-up hustler, a