My Works #16 //.
"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but in this case it just may kill you."
Kielce is ready to seal the door to his past closed while Amos is ready to open the door to his future. Coming from the same place, they're both stri...
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀JIMMY SPREAD THE red and white checkered tablecloth over one of the eight tables inside of his shack. Once it laid evenly, he wiped it down and aligned the four chairs to the table on each corner. He tossed the rag over his shoulder, placing the salt and pepper shakers in the center. Since the incident, he'd only been doing call-in orders, but now he'd felt he was ready to reopen the lobby. If he was being honest, his conscious bothered him, but he tried to ignore it— knowing saying something to the police could put his family life in danger next.
A knock on the door startled him, making him flinch as he looked towards it. He walked slowly towards it, glancing out the window's blinds on the side first. He eased it up to not make it noticeable as he saw Amos standing at the door, looking over the building. He laid his hand on the knob, pausing for a moment and then proceeded to undo the locks and pull the door open. He met eyes with Amos, his heart racing some. Amos head nodded before extending his hand out. "What's going on Jim. I saw the lights on so I figured you or Bernard was here." They did a short handshake as he invited him in. Amos looked around, seeing he was in the middle of tiding up as he was locking the door back behind him. He turned to face him.
"Yeah. .I'm in here tryna' get the place presentable. Bernard. .he not in today." Jimmy response. Amos nodded. He wasn't sure if Jimmy was aware of the stash they kept in the shop, but he know he needed to check on their items. "Y'know ya' sister Kitty just left here. She came 'bout thirty minutes ago." Amos raised a brow. His brother nearly slipped his mind especially considering his messages never got answered. Now, he begin to feel bad for not even checking in on him. It wasn't like him to neglect his own blood except his dad—he didn't claim him.
"Oh fo'real? How is he?" Amos asked. It was unlike Marquise to eat from the shack, a reason being he didn't like the smoky taste BBQ usually gave. Plus, he'd have to get it without sauce due to him being allergic. Jimmy sniggered some, walking around the front counter and straightening out the things on them.
"Still not accepting him as ya' sister, huh? Aye, I'm old school. I know. .I know, but if that's what s—" Amos cut him off, asking how was he again. Jimmy looked up at him, slowing his actions before continuing at a normal pace. "Doing alright. Just came by. .to talk. I'm guessin' that's the reason you here too?" Now, that was really unlike the brother he knew but he just brushed it off, choosing not to think much of it. He nodded.
"I'ma just be straight up. Ion' know if you knew about us stashin' some shit in the back. I needed to get that." Jimmy nodded, cleaning his palms off with the rag he'd used for the tables earlier. He leaned over the counter, pressing his elbows on top. He sighed.
"Yeah, I knew. Them guys. .that killed. .y'know, they came back. They noticed the cameras on the building and forced themselves in, forced me to give them the footage and took all the shit outcha' stash." Amos clenched his jaw, feeling his heart race. He had forgot about the cameras especially the shooting occurring in the range of the shack. He stormed off to the back, putting in the 0187 code and opening it up. He noticed the larger possessions outside of the vault such as the televisions and jewelry were taken but once the safe opened, it revealed all the money they'd saved up still stacked up. Jimmy eyes widened, not knowing that was there but of course not knowing the code anyway. Amos grabbed all off it in his hands and stuffed it into his pockets. He'd split it with Gyro and take the rest back to Atlanta.
