Page 56 of King of My Heart

“Shalom,Assalamu alaikum,” Lik’s mom practically shouts at us as we cross the door. She jumps on her son, kissing him four times on the cheeks and I’m next.

Aisha ought to be one of my favorite people on the planet. She was born Muslim Algerian, and her husband, Lik’s late father, was Jewish Moroccan. Lik told me that when Moshe was alive, they bickered over anything and everything. They never agreed on anything apart from how much they loved each other. But funnily enough, since Moshe passed, Aisha has done everything to both Jewish and Muslim standards, which always brings a smile to my face. How I wish my parents had loved each other that much.

“Shalom, Wa alaikum as-salam, Mama,” Lik says back as he wipes his cheeks.

She gets a nod from me and seems happy with it. Aisha made peace with my silence a while ago.

She drags Lik to the small living room, and I follow. His stepsisters, Billie and Emma, are already there, watching TV with their dad on the sofa.

“Lik!” Emma shouts with excitement. He gives her a hug while I grab a chair and put it next to the sofa. I nod at all of them, sit on the chair I pulled, and cross my arms. They know I’ll be there until someone tries to make conversation with me. Hopefully never.

“I see Sam is as excited to be here as ever,” Emma jokes as she sits on the sofa again.

I don’t say anything, I just watch Lik settle next to her. I smile at the slight wince when his ass touches the sofa. It sends a thrill of pleasure all the way from my heart to my dick and unwinds me. I love leaving my mark on him. Sometimes, it’s a discreet pain he has to spend the day with. Sometimes, it’s bruises and bite marks he has no choice but to show everyone.

Emma looks like the typical North Shore girl. Her hair is bleached with long extensions bringing it to her hips. She wears pink lip gloss all the time, her gray eyes are darkened with a glittery blue eyeshadow, and her fake nails are pointy enough to scratch a bitch’s eyes out if needed.

She doesn’t seem like it in her girly outfits made of pink faux-leather skirts and low-cut tops that show her colored tattoos and NSC dagger, but at twenty-two, Emma has become the leader of the North Shore Crew. Her dad tries as much as he can to sit back and watch her rule them with strength and agility.

“Where is Ziad?” Aisha screams from the kitchen.

“Don’t know,Mama,” Lik screams back, lying with ease. Moving around to speak to the other is not a thing in this household.

“Why is he so late?” she insists, her voice carrying over the TV despite being in another room.

“Don’t know,” Lik repeats his lie.

“When was the last time you spoke to your brother, Malik?” The hint of worry edging at her voice makes Lik twist his mouth.

The problem with living on the North Shore, where two crews always fight for power, is that dead bodies often appear. That’s worrying for a normal parent. I tend to forget about that. But Lik’s brother is fine, he’s simply getting rid of Mattock’s body for me.

“I saw him yesterday, Ms. Scott,” I reply quietly. She shouldn’t hear me in the kitchen, but people always pipe down when I open my mouth. Except for one stupid harpy that can’t seem to understand the meaning of shutting up, but I’m not about to go down the Rose White rabbit hole right now.

“Samuel,” she says as she appears in the living room with a wooden spoon and a big smile. “I told you to call me Aisha.” Her Arabic accent makes everything she says sound like a poem, and I could listen to her talk all day long. Good thing she never shuts up.

“I don’t like this American last name anyway. Moshe must be turning around in his grave, giving us middle fingers from up there every time he hears it.” She waves the wooden spoon at the ceiling to point to Heaven. That place where I’ll never set foot.

That makes everyone laugh. Even her new husband, Austin.

We’re all eating when Xi finally makes an appearance. Lik’s older brother is my age, with half my patience and an attitude that makes Lik’s volatile personality seem tame. Unsurprisingly, his knuckles are covered in blood, and he has a bleeding nose.

“Ziad!” his mother snaps. “Is this a decent time to show up? And covered in blood!”

“Hi,Mama,” he sniffles some blood and runs his hand under his nose.

She’s about to say something else, but Austin puts a calming hand on hers. “It’s okay, honey. He’s fine.”

“Got caught up with—”

“Wash your hands,ya hmar,” Aisha cuts him off in one last order, making sure to call him a donkey. Her own cute way of being angry. “No business at the table or watch thetrehato your face.” She lifts her hand, very clear thattrehais the slap he will get if he doesn’t listen. Xi drops a kiss on her forehead before disappearing to the kitchen.

She serves us Moroccan meatballs,and, as she requested, their family talks about anything but the North Shore Crew and their war against the Kings.

It’s late when I smoke my nth cigarette on their small patio, and Austin comes out to join me. Everyone is playing Monopoly inside and I can hear their arguments from here. They’re all so good at cheating, that their games turn violent quickly.

“Sam,” Austin says as I offer him a cigarette. My silence is an encouragement for him to keep going. “I need a favor from you.”

I exhale the smoke, letting my body relax to its hourly dose of nicotine.

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