Page 32 of Quasim: King Inferno

An all-black old school Chevy Camaro pulled onto the block in front of the bar. The windows were so tinted that you couldn’t make out who was inside, so I became nervous. Yasin wasn’t nervous in the least as he chilled beside me, so I assumed it had to be someone that he knew and was familiar with. The door opened and all 6’3 of Quasim filed out of the car and he leaned on the top of the car.

“Get in, Anjo. I’m gonna drive you home.” He said, not asking, but telling me that he was going to drive me home.

“I’m good… my Uber is only a few minutes away.”

He briefly looked away before returning his gaze back onto me. “Get in the car, Blair.”

I didn’t bother to argue with him as he sauntered around the car and opened the passenger door for me. It was cold and this Uber kept adding minutes onto his arrival anyway. I got into the car, and he closed the door behind me.

I watched as he walked over toward Yasin, and they hit the IG shake before he walked back to the car. I tried to act all unbothered like I wasn’t paying attention to his every move as he climbed back into the car. Once he got into the car, we sat there for a minute.

Neither of us spoke.

“Don’t hang up on me again, Blair.” Was all he said as he pulled away from the curb and headed to Brooklyn.

I didn’t have a response for what he said because I had hung up on him damn near two weeks ago. It wasn’t like he called back or cared that I had ended our call and told him to go to hell.

“You draw the line at me hanging up on you, but not me telling you to go to hell?”

He casually drove while paying attention to his surroundings. “I’m already in hell, Anjo… doesn’t bother me.”

It hurt my heart hearing him say that because I didn’t want him to feel like he was in hell. Living without a child was hard, and I knew it could feel like hell. Quasim had been in his grief for so long that it had become his personality. He didn’t smile or live anymore because of his own guilt that he felt.

For a slip of the moment, I witnessed who the real Quasim was. His face muscles actually remembered how to form a smile, and he was so witty that it was sexy. I laughed so much with Quasim because he was the funniest person.

On the outside when you saw the Inferno brothers, you assumed that Meer was the one with the wild personality, which he did have, and Quasim was the quieter one, which he was. However, when he was with his family and his walls were down, he was so funny, and you saw the resemblance between him and Meer.

I turned back in my seat and remained quiet for the rest of the ride. Not like he gave any conversation anyway. ‘You’ by Jesse Powell played lowly in the car as we drove across the bridge. If you weren’t listening for it, you would miss Quasim singing along to the music while drumming his fingers on the wheel. When we pulled up to my building, he killed his engine and got out to open the door for me.

Quasim wasn’t going to drive me home without making sure he walked me to my door. There was no arguing with him that I could handle making it into the building, so I didn’t bother. I putin the security code, and he held the door behind me and made sure it was secure behind him.

My phone vibrated and it was Zay calling me. I quickly answered before nosey over my shoulder could see who was calling. “Hey.”

“Did you make it home?”

“Just walking in now… thanks for checking in on me.” I dropped my keys when I got to my door and kneeled down to pick them up.

“You had fun with your girls?”

“I did… we needed to catch up, seeing as you about to have me all over the blogs by morning.” I giggled and struggled to get my key into the damn lock.

“Best advice I can give is to ignore those blogs. We know what we’re doing, so fuck what they have to say. I don’t wanna hold you long, just wanted to make sure you made it home.”

“I don’t really read the blogs anyway, so that’s the good thing, right. Thank you again for tonight, I had a good time with you… talk to you tomorrow.”

“For sure.”

I ended the call and shoved my phone into my clutch before attempting to open the door again. “Sounds like you had fun on your date… hmm?”

“Stop asking like you care, Quasim.” I turned to look at him, and he was leaned on the wall, watching my every move.

“I care about everything that you are involved in.”

“Hmm.”

“Speak your mind, my love.”

I stared at him. “Let me have this, Quasim.” My stupid voice betrayed me and cracked. “It’s clear that you don’t want me, so allow me to be happy with someone else.”

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