Bodies

six.

The blood in Milan's veins all, but froze over as her brother's words washed over her like a cold bucket of ice water.

"You gon' tell him to do what, n*gga?" She asked him through gritted teeth.

Devon stood his ground again, only shuffling his feet in a more comfortable stance to lean against the doorframe of her room.

"You heard me, Milan. I told you stop running around with Pharaoh. You don't fucking listen." He rebutted, the rumble in his voice showing no regret for his decision.

As if she was suddenly possessed by the true spirit of insanity, Milan began to throw anything and everything she could get her hands on at her brother. Her alarm clock was ripped from the wall, her TV remote, shoes upon shoes until she had thrown everything and was steps away from him.

Although her brother was a few inches taller than her she dared to grab his chest by his jacket. Pulling him closer to her until their noses almost touched. "You fucking disgust me, Devon. You put a fucking hit out on me because I was out on a date?! You tried to kill me!" She screamed in his face, throwing him away from her.

He didn't go far, just back to his original place by the door. He was riled up now as well, his breathing deeper as Milan paced around her room.

"Ain't nobody tried to kill you. I needed to wake yo' ass up. You ain't no fucking princess in a tower, Lani. You keep fucking around with Pharaoh, you gon' get fucking touched and they ain't gon' spare you like I had Marco do you."

"Marco?! He's a fucking kid, what the hell you doing having him do shit like that?"

DeMarco was a fresh recruit of the Vice Disciples. Not even out of high school, but had enough street smarts to earn him a small place as a corner boy selling dime bags of narcotics. Even Chrisanto hadn't given the boy clearance to carry out hits on people. He didn't have it in him.

Not yet, at least.

"He's seventeen. He can make his own decisions." Devon stood by his decision. Milan speared him with a sorrowful look, suddenly instead of her twenty five year old brother she saw the boy he was when their parents died. He was still that same scared, vengeful little boy.

That didn't give him an excuse to send other boys to their grave.

Her subconscious snapped.

Ramses threat on her shooter's head he promised her earlier today didn't feel as sweet in her belly anymore.

"Yeah, except he's not you, Devon. He has parents. He still goes to school. He has a chance and you're gonna send him to prison if you keep putting a gun in his hands." Milan ranted, still walking in lines around her room, but she stopped to look at how her words effected her brother.

There was no movement.

"I ain't make him do nothing he didn't want to do. He's loyal. You need to take a page from him." Devon ruled, stone-willed. Milan laughed, but there was no humor behind it.

"Yeah, I need to go blindly into danger all because you say so. I need to be loyal to the streets that took my mom and dad from me. I need to be mad like you, huh? Let that shit go, Devon. You're too fucking grown to be protecting invisible lines in the street and up my ass about a n*gga who literally saved your life." Milan went on to say from her place in her room.

The distance between her and her brother seemed to be growing at an all time high, and it wasn't just because she'd put some space in between them physically.

"Do you even know what you're doing? You put a hit out on your sister. I'm the only blood you got left out here." She called to her brother's humanity. Her brother, who she believed would do anything in the world for her because she'd do the same for him.