Ride or Die - Softcover

Jones, Solomon

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0312339895 ISBN 13: 9780312339890

Publisher: Minotaur Books, 2005

Synopsis

Seventeen-year-old Keisha is the beautiful, sheltered daughter of an activist pastor with a checkered past. Handsome, ambitious Jamal-a street-savvy crack dealer-is the son of North Philly's most notorious drug kingpin. A history of violence and betrayal lies between their fathers, who are now bitter enemies. After one of his church members is gunned down-with a bullet he is sure is meant for him-Pastor Anderson goes after Frank Nichols, determined to drive him from the neighborhood for good. There's just one problem: Keisha and Jamal are in love.

When the families face off on opposite sides of an anti-drug demonstration, a high-ranking police official is killed in the crossfire, and Jamal becomes the prime suspect in the murder. Keisha is left with a choice. Will she stay with her father, in the confines of the sheltered world she's known, or will she venture into the unknown in order to help Jamal clear his name? She chooses Jamal, and in a whirlwind flight across the seamy underside of Philadelphia, Keisha will risk everything for love. Even her life.

About this title

About the Author

Solomon Jones graduated cum laude with a B.A. in journalism from Temple University. He currently volunteers as Summerfest Director for the Calvary Baptist Church of Philadelphia. He is a columnist for the Philadelphia Weekly. Jones lives in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania with his family.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

CHAPTER ONE

The sway of Keisha Anderson’s hips stirred the still summer air as she climbed the subway steps and began the walk up Broad Street.

She’d spent the last few Wednesday evenings the same way--rushing from her summer job to church in an effort to maintain the illusion that was her life.

But tonight she didn’t want to rush. As she passed the poster-laden remains of the Uptown Theater, she slowed down and allowed herself to drink in the sights and sounds of North Philly.

She listened as an ambulance screamed past, and watched as a young mother dragged a toddler by the arm. She heard a basketball smacking against the sidewalk while a passing car blasted Jay-Z.

The song’s infectious rhythm took Keisha to a place she’d come to know intimately since reuniting with her childhood love, Jamal. It was a place that allowed her to straddle the line between her own world, with its hard-and-fist rules, and a world where the do’s and don’ts were as fluid as the sound of his name.

Jamal. She mouthed it silently, turned it over in her mind, and tasted it on her tongue. It was smooth and buttery sweet, like the secret kisses he’d pressed against her lips.

But at the same time, Jamal’s name was bitter. It was a reminder that she’d had to look to him for the love she’d always longed to receive from her parents. Love she’d watched them give to their parishioners instead of her.

Keisha shook her head. She didn’t want to think of the years of service that had caused her family a misery she wanted no part of. She only wanted to think of the streets that provided sweet escape from it, the streets whose forbidden pleasures she longed to taste.

As she approached the drug dealers who were posted on the corner of Broad and Dauphin, her soft lips curled in a mischievous smile. She fixed her smoldering gaze on them and invited their lustful stares.
qlThey happily complied. Their eyes roamed everything from her honey-brown eyes to her gently rounded hips as a rare summer breeze caused her white cotton sundress to cling to her ample curves.

Seconds later, the catcalls began in earnest. But rather than enjoying the attention, Keisha grew angry at their raw, disrespectful words, and whipped around to face the tallest one.

“What did you say?” she snarled with a hand on her hip.

Surprised, he coughed, and his white T-shirt, already too large, seemed to swallow him whole.

“I just wanted to holla at you for a minute,“ he said, trying not to buckle under the weight of Keisha’s stony stare.

“I’m standing right here,“ she said, tossing her hair and looking him up and down with an arched eyebrow. “Holla.”

He looked around at his boys, who urged him on with solemn nods and knowing grins. Tugging at his low-slung pants, he ambled over to Keisha.

He tried to take her arm to move her away from the crowd, but Keisha wouldn’t budge. She wanted all of them to hear the exchange.

Pulling the curved bill of his baseball cap down over his eyes, the boy looked down into Keisha’s ginger-colored face, with its soft lines and flawless beauty, and tried to act composed.

“What’s your name, baby?” he said with a crooked smile.

She rolled her eyes. “A minute ago, my name was bitch.”

“Naw, I ain’t--”

“When I walked by,“ she said, cutting him off, “you said, ‘Look at “this” bitch.’ You didn’t care what my name was then, so why do you care now?”

“Hold up, baby, I wasn’t--”

She raised a single finger. “Next time you want to talk to me,“ she said, “you call me by my name. It’s Keisha.”

There was shocked silence as she stepped forward and put a hand in his face.

“And if you can’t remember that,“ she said, her voice low and threatening, “maybe I’ll send somebody by to remind you.”
fi0Before he could respond, she turned on her heel and crossed Dauphin Street, her sundress billowing behind her as she passed a gray stone church whose walls climbed silently into the evening sky.

As she rounded the corner of 15th Street and headed for the playground, she could hear the sound of the drug dealers laughing at their humiliated friend.

She almost joined in. But her smile quickly disappeared as the atmosphere around her began to change.

Fifteenth Street was filled with closed auto repair shops and cold yellow streetlights. Abandoned houses lined one side of the block. Barren, packed earth and cracked sidewalks lined the other.

Seeing it all made the night feel colder than it had been just minutes before. And that coldness, more than anything, frightened Keisha.

Walking through the gates of the playground, she saw soiled diapers and used condoms. Trash cans filled to overflowing. Broken overhead lights. And dank air whispering through the darkened doorway near the playground’s locked office.

Keisha felt her chest tighten as she made her way toward the steps between the building and the swings. There were no more sounds to tempt her. No more voices to anger her. Only an ominous silence that seemed to grow deeper with every passing second.

She climbed the first step and caught sight of the alleylike street on the other side of the playground. Just beyond it, there was a rocky dirt path that wound between tree-sized weeds to York Street.

The path was the last thing she saw.

Someone grabbed her from behind, slapping a hand over her mouth and pressing himself against her as he dragged her backward.

Keisha bit down hard, and her teeth tore through his skin, causing warm blood to flow into her mouth.

The man grunted, released her, and swung his fist. Keisha saw a flash of light, and her eyes filled with tears as the pain of the blow shot through her body.

He grabbed her again, and she reached back to claw at his face. He ducked and continued pulling her backward. She tried to twist her body to face her attacker. Then another man 0 emerged from the shadows and swept her feet out from under her.

“No!” she shrieked, catching a glimpse of the second man’s scarred face.

They covered her mouth again, dragging her into the shadowy doorway and pulling her cotton dress over her head. The one with the scar pried her legs apart. The other placed a knife against her throat. Her stomach turned as the stench of urine mingled with the odors of garbage and sweat.

“Give it up or I’ma kill you,“ said the one with the knife, kneeling next to her and undoing his pants.

“Stop!” she shouted while trying to kick her legs free.

There was a muffled sound behind them. The one with the knife turned to see where it came from. But it was already too late for him to respond.

The first punch was delivered with such force that the scar-faced man at Keisha’s feet tumbled into the other one, who dropped his knife and tried to stand. Before he could do so, a boot landed against his temple. Seconds later, both men went down in a barrage of flailing fists.

Keisha wanted to run, but she couldn’t get out of the doorway. Neither could her attackers. They were hit again and again, as fists and feet flew at them faster than they could fend off the blows.

Keisha crawled backward as grunts and the thudding sound of hard punches filled the closed-in space. Flecks of blood dotted her white dress. One of her attackers reached back for the knife he had dropped.

Her rescuer stepped on his hand and the man screamed. After that, the struggle ended. And the violence that had filled the doorway was replaced by a deep, resonant voice.

“Both o’ y’all get outta here,“ her hero said slowly. And I bet’ not ever see y’all around here again.”

As her attackers ran away, Keisha looked up at the silhouette of the man who’d saved her. He was bathed in the pale moonlight that shone on him from behind.

His broad shoulders extended almost the length of the doorway, while his torso tapered down to a small waist. His muscled arms extended to his thighs, where his clenched fists rested. His chest heaved up and down as steam poured off his dangling dreadlocks.

After she’d filled her eyes with the familiar shape of him, Keisha pursed her lips and tried to be brave. But the facade was short-lived. Tears burst from her eyes as she stood up and rushed
into his arms.

“Jamal,“ she said through tortured sobs. “Thank God you were here.”

“You all right?” he muttered as he cradled her like a baby.

She nodded and held him tighter. “Who were they?”

“I don’t know,“ he said, looking around to make sure they were gone. “I never saw ‘em before.”

Keisha’s sobs subsided as he held her in his arms.

“I want you to go home,“ he said calmly.

Keisha loosened her grip and backed away from him. “Not by myself,“ she said nervously. “You have to come with me.”

He took her face in both hands and stared into her eyes. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,“ she said, searching his eyes in the dim light. “I’ve already decided to tell my parents all about us.”

The gentleness left his voice. “You can’t do that, Keisha. Not yet.”

Her eyes filled with confusion. “But why?”

About this edition

• Publisher: Minotaur Books
• Publication date: 2005
• ISBN 10: 0312339895
• ISBN 13: 9780312339890
• Binding: Paperback
• Edition number: 1
• Number of pages: 304