THE GANGSTERS WIFE - Ride Or Die

To them, he goes by Kash, Boss, Hitman. To me, he goes by partner, soulmate, and the love of my life. Since we were sixteen years old sitting in the back of a high school classroom, we’ve belonged to each other. For those same five years, Kash has also belonged to the streets. I chose this life the moment I chose him. That much, I know. It was never without understanding the risks either. Kash isn’t a bad person, nor is he one of those average stand on the corner type of guys with no direction. My baby has ambition. He’s smart. Calculated. This life chose him just as much as I did, so all I can do is stay loyal to mine. And yes… he is mine.

Most girls would probably say that like it was some kind of weakness. Like loving a man too hard automatically made you stupid. Maybe to them it did. Maybe to girls who only knew Kash from rumors, headlines, whispers, and the way people suddenly lowered their voices whenever he walked into a room. But they didn’t know the version of him that came home to me at three in the morning smelling like cologne, smoke, and outside air, sliding into bed like the world hadn’t spent all night trying to pull him away from me.

They didn’t know the Kash who danced with me in the kitchen while noodles boiled on the stove because the power had gone out again and we were too broke to afford takeout. They didn’t know the boy who sat behind me in eleventh grade math flicking paper balls at the back of my head just to piss me off enough to talk to him. The same boy who got suspended two weeks later for putting another guy through a locker because he grabbed my wrist too hard in the hallway.

Kash loved hard. Dangerous men usually do.

That’s the part nobody tells you.

People always talk about the money, the chains, the fast life, the fear attached to men like him. They never talk about the way those same men hold you like you’re the only soft thing left in their world. Like if they loosen their grip for even a second, everything around them might collapse.

And maybe that was our problem.

We loved each other so much we stopped noticing how dangerous our world was becoming.

Women envied me because of the way he loved me. Not just financially either, though Kash made sure I never went without a thing. It was the smaller stuff that got to them. The quiet stuff. The way he automatically grabbed my hand crossing the street. The way he remembered every little thing I liked without me repeating it twice. The way he’d come home from long nights and still stop to kiss my forehead first before doing anything else. Every soft gesture he made toward me came naturally, because making me happy somehow filled something inside him too.

Men envied Kash for different reasons.

His drive. His hunger. His ability to walk into almost any situation and somehow leave with profit attached to his name. Kash had this way about him where people either wanted to be beside him or wanted to be him. There really wasn’t an in between. Even back in high school he moved like somebody twice his age mentally, always thinking ahead while everybody else was just trying to survive the day in front of them.

That’s why the streets loved him too.

Kash understood them.

And the streets have a dangerous habit of holding onto men who understand them best.

Our slip-up was inevitable, so it wasn’t a shock when things started taking a turn. It was only unexpected how soon it happened, because life was still going as good as it could while people plotted in the dark without us even knowing.

That’s the thing about this lifestyle.

Problems don’t usually knock at the front door first. They build quietly behind your back until one day everything hits at once.

At the time though, I was too caught up in loving Kash to notice the shift happening around us. Too comfortable in our routine. Too used to his lifestyle to realize people had started paying attention to me too.

By noon, the apartment was almost painfully quiet.

I moved around slowly, still wearing one of Kash’s oversized hoodies while cleaning up around the kitchen more out of irritation than productivity. My phone sat face down on the counter beside me, buzzing every couple of hours with another dry-ass message from him that I fully intended on ignoring a little longer.

You ate?

Stop being dramatic.

Open the door for the food when it gets there.

Typical Kash.

No apology. No accountability. Just him trying to force his way back into my routine without actually addressing the argument itself.

The worst part was knowing he was probably still checking on me anyway.

I found myself glancing toward the small camera tucked into the corner of the living room before rolling my eyes at myself. Kash monitored everything connected to me when we weren’t together. The apartment cameras. My location. The front entrance. Sometimes I swore that man knew I was irritated before I even decided to be irritated.

Part of me wondered if he was watching me right now.

Another part already knew he was.

With a quiet sigh, I grabbed my phone off the counter and finally looked at the newest message sitting across the screen.

Open the damn door.

Right on cue, a knock echoed through the apartment a second later.

I sucked my teeth softly before walking over, already knowing Kash had probably sent enough food to feed half the city instead of just admitting he missed me like a normal person. That was his thing. Kash didn’t do emotional speeches unless he absolutely had to. He handled things through actions, money, gifts, protection. Anything except simply saying what he felt outright.

Pulling the door open, I was met with two large takeout bags and a nervous-looking delivery driver who barely made eye contact with me while handing them over.

“The order’s already paid for,” he muttered quickly.

Of course it was.

I thanked him quietly before shutting the door, setting the bags onto the counter while fighting the small smile threatening to pull at my lips. Because annoying or not, Kash remembered everything.

Even angry, that man still knew my Friday order down to the extra sauce cups.

I grabbed my food out of the bag before carrying it over to the couch, curling one leg beneath me as the warmth from the container settled into my lap. The apartment still smelled like him faintly, mixed with takeout and expensive cologne trapped somewhere in the furniture.

Shaking my head softly, I lifted the container slightly toward the camera tucked into the corner of the room.

“Thank you, Kash,” I muttered sarcastically.

A familiar deep voice immediately crackled through the speaker system.

“You’re welcome.”

I froze mid-motion before slowly looking toward the camera with narrowed eyes.

“Of course you’re talking to me through the damn camera,” I said.

A low chuckle came through the speaker.

“No,” Kash replied calmly. “I’m talking to you from…”

Before he could finish, the front door suddenly unlocked behind me.

“…right here.”

I turned around so fast I nearly dropped my food into my lap.

Kash stood in the doorway dressed in all black, one hand still resting near the keypad while the other held his phone loosely at his side. The second my eyes landed on him, irritation and relief hit me so hard at the same time it honestly made me more annoyed than I already was.

Because there he was.

Three days gone. Three days of ignoring me in person. Three days of acting stubborn.

And somehow he still walked into the apartment looking like the answer to every problem I had.

His eyes moved over me slowly, taking in the hoodie, my bare legs stretched across the couch, the food in my lap, before the corner of his mouth pulled slightly.

“So you was ignoring me,” he said casually, locking the door behind him. “But still ate my money.”

“And wore your clothes too,” I shot back instantly.

Kash looked at me for a second before his eyes dropped down to the oversized hoodie hanging off my shoulder, and just like that, the tension between us cracked.

A small smile tugged at my lips.

His answered it immediately.

“Of course you did,” he muttered, shaking his head like he expected nothing less.

The apartment suddenly felt lighter again. Familiar.

Like us.

Kash kicked off his shoes before walking over and dropping onto the couch beside me like he had never left in the first place. The cushions dipped beneath his weight as he reached into one of the takeout bags, stealing a fry from my container first just to be irritating.

I smacked his hand away immediately.

“You bought all this food and still touched mine first?”

“Because yours looks better.”

“It’s literally the same order.”

“Nah,” he said calmly, already chewing. “Your food got attitude on it.”

I rolled my eyes hard while fighting another smile, and Kash leaned back against the couch watching me in that quiet way he always did whenever he knew I was still mad but softening anyway.

“So,” he said after a moment, “you done acting like I died?”

I stared at him for a second before scoffing softly.

“You disappear for three days every time we argue, Kash.”

“I was busy.”

“You always busy.”

“And you always dramatic.”

My eyes narrowed immediately. “See? That right there is exactly why I be wanting to fight you.”

A low laugh left his mouth, deep and effortless, while he stretched one arm across the back of the couch behind me. Too comfortable. Too unbothered. Like this conversation wasn’t the exact thing that had me sleeping angry for three nights straight.

“You missed me though,” he said.

I hated that he sounded so sure about it too.

“Don’t piss me off.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

I tried to stay irritated. Really, I did. But Kash had this annoying ability to pull me out of my mood just by being himself. Maybe it was because we had been doing this dance for years already. Fighting. Ignoring each other. Finding our way back naturally like neither of us really knew how to stay away for long.

His fingers brushed lazily against my thigh before he finally looked over at me properly.

“You ate today besides this?” he asked quietly.

And there it was.

That subtle shift only I ever really noticed.

One second he was joking. The next he was checking on me without making it obvious.

The room quieted a little after that.

Not awkward quiet.

Heavy quiet.

The kind that always settled between us right before one of us said something we probably wouldn’t take back.

His hand slowed against my thigh as he watched me carefully, waiting for my answer, but instead I looked down at the food in my lap and muttered softly,

“Don’t act like you care.”

Kash’s entire expression shifted immediately.

Not angry.

Genuinely caught off guard.

“The fuck?” he said, sitting up a little straighter. “Why would you say that?”

I let out a dry laugh and finally looked over at him.

“Because you don’t listen to me, Kash. Not when it actually matters.”

His brows pulled together slightly like he was trying to figure out how the conversation had shifted this fast.

“I listen to you.”

“No, you hear me,” I corrected quietly. “That’s different.”

Kash stared at me for a second without speaking.

I could tell he wanted to argue. Could practically see the defensiveness building behind his eyes already, but for once I didn’t feel like yelling. I was tired more than anything.

“Telling me to eat. Sending food. Tracking my location. Watching cameras…” I shook my head softly. “That’s not listening to me, Kash. That’s monitoring me.”

His jaw tightened instantly.

“I do that because I care about you.”

“And I know that,” I said quickly before he could fully shut down. “But every time I try talking to you about actual things, things that bother me, things that scare me, you disappear until you think I’m over it.”

Kash rubbed a hand over his jaw before leaning back against the couch again, frustration slowly creeping into his face now.

“Can we not do this again?” he muttered. “I just got back to you.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” I replied quietly. “You leave, Kash. Every single time things get uncomfortable, you leave.”

“I leave because if I stay, we end up saying disrespectful shit to each other.”

I let out another dry laugh. “No. You leave because you don’t like hearing things you can’t control.”

His eyes snapped back toward me instantly.

“There you go doing that shit.”

“What shit?”

“Acting like I don’t care about you.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implying it.”

I shook my head, suddenly too drained for the conversation to keep circling itself the same way it always did. Before Kash could say anything else, I pushed myself up from the couch and grabbed my phone from the counter.

“Where you going?” he asked immediately.

“To walk.”

“By yourself?”

I looked over at him with a tired expression. “I’m going downstairs, Kash. Not crossing the country.”

His jaw tightened again, clearly already irritated by the idea, but I didn’t wait for permission or another argument. I just slipped my slides on and headed for the door, needing air before this turned into another three day fight all over again.

The cool night air hit my skin the second I stepped outside, instantly easing some of the tension sitting in my chest. The city was still alive despite the hour, headlights sliding across wet pavement while music echoed faintly from somewhere down the block. For a moment, I honestly just needed space away from the apartment and away from Kash before our argument circled itself into something worse.

Of course, not even two minutes later, my phone started ringing.

Kash.

I stared at the screen for a second before answering anyway, pressing the phone to my ear while continuing toward the convenience store on the corner. Neither of us spoke at first. The only sound between us was traffic and my footsteps against the sidewalk, both of us too stubborn to properly restart the conversation but apparently not stubborn enough to hang up either.

The bell above the store door chimed softly as I stepped inside. I grabbed a bag of chips and a couple scratch tickets before making my way toward the register, half listening to the cashier complain about the machine acting up while I dug through my purse for cash.

That was when I heard it.

Low enough to almost miss.

“Ain’t that Kash’s girl?”

The back of my neck tightened immediately.

I kept my face calm, pretending not to notice while slowly glancing toward the drink coolers near the back of the store. Two guys stood there watching me a little too closely, their conversation dropping quieter the second they realized I noticed them looking.

I brought the phone back closer to my ear.

“Kash,” I said softly, my eyes still forward.

His voice sharpened instantly. “What?”

“Just listen for a minute.”

The line went completely silent after that.

I could still feel them staring every few seconds while the cashier handed me my change, and suddenly the small convenience store didn’t feel as harmless as it did walking in. My phone buzzed lightly against my palm before I even made it back toward the door.

I looked down.

omw.

I tightened my grip around the plastic bag before pushing the store door open, instantly feeling the energy outside had changed. The street suddenly felt too aware of me. Too quiet in certain places while still loud everywhere else.

A few seconds later, the two guys exited the store behind me.

Not close enough to immediately alarm anybody passing by, but close enough for me to notice their footsteps matching my pace down the sidewalk.

“Ayo,” one of them called casually.

I kept walking, phone still pressed to my ear.

“You Kash’s girl?”

I slowed slightly at the question, mostly because hearing his name come from strangers always did something strange to my nerves. Before I could answer, the second guy laughed under his breath.

“That’s definitely her.”

On the other end of the phone, Kash still hadn’t said much, but I could hear movement now. A car door slamming. Keys. The low growl of an engine starting.

The first guy moved a little closer beside me, enough to make me uncomfortable but not enough to openly cross a line.

“You should stay away from that nigga,” he said, glancing at me carefully. “People looking for him real serious right now.”

I finally looked over at him then, more irritated than scared.

“And what exactly that gotta do with me?” I asked.

His mouth twitched slightly like he wasn’t expecting attitude back from me.

“Everything,” he replied. “That lifestyle catch up to everybody eventually.”

“Karma speeches from random niggas outside convenience stores now?” I muttered.

That earned a small laugh from the second guy, but Kash’s voice finally cut through my ear sharply.

“Don’t go back home the same way.”

My attention immediately shifted back to the phone.

“Take the next corner,” he continued calmly. “Cut behind the apartment building and stay on the phone with me.”

Something about how controlled his voice sounded made my stomach tighten. Kash only got that calm when he was angry enough to stop showing emotion completely.

I followed his directions without arguing, turning the corner while glancing behind me once. The guys hadn’t fully followed, but they also hadn’t completely stopped watching me either.

“You see anybody in front of you?” Kash asked.

“No.”

“Cross the street anyway.”

I did, my heartbeat picking up slightly now while the city suddenly felt darker than it had twenty minutes ago.

“Keep walking,” Kash said quietly. “I’m almost there.”

I wrapped my free arm tighter around myself while picking up my pace slightly, my slides scraping softly against the sidewalk as I crossed the street. The farther I got from the convenience store, the more aware I became of every little sound around me. Car engines. Distant music. Footsteps that probably weren’t even following me but suddenly felt like they were.

“Kash,” I muttered quietly into the phone.

“I’m here.”

“You know these people getting way too comfortable saying your name to me now, right?”

His silence lasted half a second too long.

“I know.”

That answer irritated me more than it comforted me.

“You know?” I repeated. “So what, this normal now?”

“No,” he replied calmly. “It’s handled.”

“There you go again,” I snapped softly while turning down the side street he told me to take. “Everything always ‘handled’ until I’m the one outside being approached by strangers.”

“You think I’d let something happen to you?”

“That’s not the point, Kash.”

“Then what is the point?”

I opened my mouth before stopping myself, frustration and nervousness mixing together too heavily to even explain properly. Because the truth was, I didn’t fully know what I wanted from him in moments like this. Less danger? Less control? More honesty? All of it?

Headlights turned the corner ahead of me before slowing near the curb.

Black truck. Tinted windows. Kash.

The passenger door pushed open before the vehicle even fully stopped, and Kash leaned across the center console looking directly at me, jaw already tight.

“Get in.”

I slowed my steps but didn’t move toward the truck right away. Instead, I folded my arms across my chest, still irritated enough to hold onto the argument despite the situation.

“No,” I replied sarcastically. “I’m just gonna stand out here and let them come back and approach me again.”

Kash stared at me for a solid second like he genuinely couldn’t believe I chose now to be difficult.

“You think you funny?”

“No, I think you annoying.”

A low curse left his mouth while he pushed the driver’s door open and stepped out onto the street instead, black hoodie hanging off him while his eyes immediately scanned everything around us before landing back on me.

“You done?” he asked.

“Absolutely not.”

“For what?” I repeated softly, staring at him in disbelief. “Kash, do you hear yourself when you talk sometimes?”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “You’re trying to control what I know so you can decide what I’m allowed to worry about.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“It feels the same to me.”

The words sat between us heavily while the city kept moving around us like our relationship wasn’t cracking open right there on the sidewalk.

Kash rubbed his hand over his face slowly before looking away again, clearly frustrated now.

“You think I like you being involved in any of this?” he asked quietly. “You think I wanted niggas stopping you outside stores saying my name to you?”

“But that’s exactly my point,” I replied. “This is my life too now, Kash. You can’t keep acting like I’m standing outside of it.”

His eyes snapped back toward me immediately because we both knew I was right.

That was the problem.

I wasn’t just dating him anymore. I was attached to everything that came with him too. The money. The reputation. The danger. The enemies.

And judging by the look on Kash’s face, he was finally starting to realize just how much that terrified him.

For a few seconds neither of us spoke.

The tension between us had shifted completely now. The argument wasn’t really about him disappearing anymore. Or the cameras. Or the food. It was about something deeper we had both been avoiding for a long time.

The reality of what his life meant for mine.

Kash looked down at me quietly before stepping even closer, his voice lowering.

“You think this shit don’t scare me too?” he admitted.

That caught me off guard more than yelling would have.

Because Kash rarely admitted fear. Anger? All the time. Possessiveness? Constantly. But fear? That was different.

“You’re the only thing I got that actually matter,” he continued, his eyes locked on mine now. “Everything else around me already dirty. Already fucked up. You not supposed to be.”

The honesty in his voice softened something in me instantly, even though part of me was still upset.

“Kash…”

“No, listen to me for a second,” he interrupted gently. “You think I leave because I don’t care, but it’s the opposite. Half the time I leave because if I sit around you while all this shit going on in my head, eventually I’m either gonna snap on somebody or drag you deeper into things you don’t need to hear.”

I swallowed slowly, emotions tangling together in my chest now.

“But you already dragged me into it,” I said quietly. “The second people started recognizing me because of you, I was already in it.”

Kash looked at me for a long moment after that before finally exhaling quietly through his nose like some of the fight had left him.

“Come here,” he muttered.

This time, I let him guide me toward the truck.

The second I climbed into the passenger seat, Kash locked the doors automatically before pulling away from the curb, one hand steady on the wheel while the other rested near the center console close enough to touch me if he wanted to. The inside of the truck smelled like weed, leather, and his cologne, familiar enough to calm me down a little despite everything.

For a while, neither of us spoke.

The city lights slid across his face as he drove, jaw still tight, eyes focused on the road ahead while one of his playlists hummed quietly through the speakers.

I watched him for a second before finally breaking the silence myself.

“You know I love you, right?”

Kash glanced over briefly. “I know.”

“And I know what I signed up for when I chose you,” I continued softly. “I meant that. I still mean it. I’m here for all of this with you.”

His grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel.

“But…” he said carefully.

I looked out the window for a second before admitting it.

“I just don’t feel safe right now.”

The words changed the entire atmosphere inside the truck instantly.

Not because I was yelling. Not because I was threatening to leave.

Because for the first time since we started dating, Kash heard actual fear in my voice.

“Your safety is my number one priority, baby girl, so if you saying you don’t feel safe, then I’ll fix that,” Kash said, his tone finally softening now that we had moved away from the convenience store and into the actual root of my issue with him.

“How?” I asked quietly.

Kash glanced over at me briefly before looking back at the road.

“Babe, people gonna recognize me. You not just anybody and this our hood. That come with it.”

“I know that,” I replied quickly. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

I looked down at my hands in my lap for a second before forcing the words out.

“I’m scared, Kash.”

The confession sounded almost foreign coming out of my own mouth.

“You might be untouchable out here, but I’m not.”

The truck went quiet immediately after that.

Kash looked genuinely stunned beside me, like this conversation had caught him completely off guard because truthfully, it had. In five years together, I had never questioned this lifestyle out loud before. Never made him feel like I couldn’t handle standing beside him.

I already knew what his next question was going to be.

Where is all this coming from?

And honestly, he had every right to ask.

Nothing between us had changed overnight.

At least not technically.

But the deeper Kash got into his world, the smaller mine slowly seemed to become. My freedom started coming with conditions. Routes to avoid. Cameras in the apartment. Constant check-ins. Watching who stared too long. Who asked too many questions. Who knew my face.

Somewhere along the way, being protected had quietly started feeling a lot like being trapped.

Kash kept one hand on the wheel while the other moved over and grabbed mine gently, his thumb brushing slowly across my skin.

“I got you,” he said quietly. “I promise.”

One thing about Kash, a promise was something he had never broken to me before. No matter what chaos surrounded him, no matter how reckless or frustrating he could be, when my man promised me something, he followed through.

So of course the second those words left his mouth, I believed him.

Not just believed him.

I surrendered to it.

Because somehow Kash always knew exactly how to make me feel safe again, even in moments where the rest of my world felt uncertain. Just hearing the confidence in his voice was enough to settle something inside me, and I gave his hand a small squeeze while leaning back into the seat.

A quiet chuckle left his mouth.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Those the talks you like, huh?”

I rolled my eyes softly, but a smile still pulled at my lips anyway because honestly… how could it not?

That was the dangerous thing about us.

No matter how heavy the conversation got, Kash always found a way to pull me back toward him. And just like that, with one promise and one touch of his hand, everything between us somehow felt right again.

Except with a lifestyle like Kash’s, everything was almost never actually okay for long.

Something twisted deep in my stomach suddenly, sharp and heavy enough to make my entire body tense. The warmth that had settled over me moments ago disappeared instantly, replaced by that sick feeling you get right before something bad happens.

Kash must have sensed the shift in me immediately because his hand tightened around mine slightly.

“What?” he asked, glancing over.

I started looking around the streets anxiously, my heartbeat picking up for reasons I couldn’t even fully explain yet. My chest suddenly felt tight. Hot. Wrong.

Then I saw it.

A car speeding up behind us fast enough to instantly catch my attention in the rearview mirror.

“Look,” I said sharply.

Kash’s eyes flicked upward toward the mirror, his expression tightening immediately as he noticed the same vehicle closing distance behind us far too aggressively.

For a second, neither of us spoke.

The car kept gaining speed.

“Fuck is this idiot doing?” Kash muttered lowly, his attention fully alert now.

My breathing started getting uneven while the headlights behind us grew brighter and closer, practically glued to the back of the truck at this point.

“Kash…”

“I see him.”

His jaw tightened before he glanced at me quickly, giving a small nod like he was silently trying to calm me down while easing the truck toward the side of the road.

Like maybe the driver just wanted to pass.

Like maybe this was nothing.

But the second Kash started pulling over toward the intersection—

CRASH.

The impact hit us so violently my entire body snapped sideways instantly as metal screamed against metal. My head slammed hard against the window while the truck spun completely out of control across the road.

Everything blurred.

Lights. Glass. Screaming tires.

Then another violent hit sent the truck crashing directly into the traffic light pole at the intersection with a sickening force that made the entire world go black for half a second.

Pain ripped through my body in violent waves while the world slowly struggled back into focus around me. Smoke drifted through the crushed front of the truck, mixing with the sharp smell of gasoline and burnt rubber while my ears rang so badly everything sounded distant and distorted. My head throbbed painfully as I blinked through blurred vision trying to understand what had just happened.

Then I turned toward Kash.

The second I saw him, pure panic tore through my chest.

Blood streamed down the side of his face and disappeared into the collar of his hoodie while his body leaned unnaturally against the seatbelt completely motionless. His eyes stayed shut no matter how hard I stared at him waiting for movement.

“Kash,” I whispered shakily, reaching for him immediately. “Kash, baby, wake up… please.”

My hands trembled violently as I grabbed onto his hoodie, trying to shake him awake despite the pain screaming through my own body.

“Kash, baby, come on,” I cried louder. “Please wake up.”

Nothing.

Not even the slightest movement.

Fear unlike anything I had ever felt started swallowing me whole while tears blurred my vision almost instantly. The truck creaked around us while smoke continued curling through the shattered windshield, and suddenly the silence inside the vehicle felt horrifying.

Then another sound broke through it.

A slow crunch against broken glass outside.

My entire body froze.

Another step followed a second later.

Then another.

Heavy footsteps.

Slow. Steady. Deliberate.

My breathing stopped completely while I slowly turned my head toward the shattered passenger window, my heartbeat slamming violently against my ribs with every step getting closer to the truck. At first all I could make out were shadows moving through the smoke and flashing intersection lights, but the closer they came, the more clearly I could see them.

Two men.

Walking directly toward us.

Panic crawled coldly up my spine while every instinct inside me screamed that this was not an accident. I stared helplessly as one of the men stepped close enough for the overhead streetlight to finally catch the object hanging from his hand.

A gun.