My Youth Began With Him Novels & Stories

Silence stretched for a second before he went on. “That’s when life really started,” he said, his tone rougher now. “I slept on the streets. In the cold. Some nights with nothing to eat.” Lucy’s hand moved to his chest, rubbing gently, trying to ease something that had been broken long before she knew him. “I tried to find work,” he added, “but no one wants to hire a teenage boy with a record.” He took a slow breath. Lucy didn’t stop him. She needed to hear it.

I made an endless list. Zayn chuckles " I know what you mean to ask ". "Why am I into this line of business right ?" I nodded . Well things had not always been easy for , I had to grow up this way on my own mostly. I grew up on the streets , never knew my parents . At a time I didn't care who they were hut most times I cussed them in my mind . "Do you know how hard it was?" He looks at me asking. I had a gang when I was fifteen got my first gun at sixteen and at eighteen I...

“You’re trouble, butterfly.” “Says the guy who ran a syndicate,” I shot back, grinning. He laughed, the sound rich and free, and pulled me closer until our foreheads touched. “You know, I fell in love with you at seventeen when I first saw you,” he said, his voice dropping low, intimate. “You were only fourteen then, all sharp edges and fire, trying so hard to hide who you were. I knew then—knew you were gonna be trouble for me.”

He held my hand as we began to walk "so, how did you find this place?" I asked curiously "It was just random... I discovered this place when I was 16. I was fed up with my abusive father and decided to take a long drive and I ended up here. Since then, I made this place my sanctuary"... "now I get to share this place with you" he added "You've never taken anyone here?" "Never. you're the first" he response gave me a knot feeling in my stomach. I gave him a warm smile which he returned. this was the first time I had seen a genuine smile on his face, he looked more handsome when he smiled.

I walked toward him and sat on the bed beside him. “I was living my life in hell until I found my hope of life when my eyes landed on you. Except for my daughter, you were the first girl who was interested in learning how to fight.”, He said with a smile. “At first, I thought you would soon quit, but you didn’t. I always used to have the same feeling of someone watching on me whenever I used to train, and somehow, I knew that you would come near me, considering your age because I generally train kids, if your urge to learn, everything won’t stop.” “But you were too hard on me.”, I reminded him.

What made him think he could pull it, and why in the hell was I so inquisitive about it? He is a handsome 20-year-old street kid. Born, taught, and raised on the south side of Chicago streets. He was practically homeless, a bit lost, yet he has an abundance of talent which drove me to take him on. I was pretty much taking a cut out of my check to help keep him housed and off the streets. For some reason I believed in this kid.

he says as he begins his story. “What does that have to do with me?” I ask him. “I am getting to that Jenna. Learn some patience,” he says before continuing, “Well as a younger boy I was constantly getting into mischief – as most boys do. One day I wandered into an unknown territory, which I came to learn was the Black Crescent Pack,” he shares. “I was climbing a tree when this beautiful, red-haired little girl wandered into the forest near me. I stared at her for what felt like hours, just watching her play,” he says. I feel a chill run down my spine.

I had him right where I wanted, and I needed to keep him there. “A minute,” he replied awkwardly. “I started when I was sixteen. I got tired of getting pushed around.” I nodded like that made sense, smiling encouragingly at him. “Let me guess, rough neighborhood?” “You could say that,” he replied. “I grew up just down the road from here. My pops ran numbers, and my moms ran off when I was eight. The street taught me how to keep my fists up and my mouth shut.” I could feel him starting to relax, just a little bit. He was opening up without even realizing it, and I just needed to keep going a little longer.

His gaze was distant as he looked into the fire. "To be honest with you, baby. Ever since I was a kid, girls have always come after me. I am not trying to brag, but I never had to chase anyone. I could have whoever I wanted without even trying. My first time was when I was thirteen. With my math tutor. Dad had hired her to help me pass my class." My eyes widened in shock. Thirteen? With his tutor? "W-What! How old was she?" I blurted out.

I ran. I heard footsteps behind me and the next thing I know, I'm being hoisted into the air and landing flat on my back on the cold wet alley floor. I couldn't see his face. Till today I don't even know who that person was and trust me, I've searched everywhere for him. But all I can remember is me almost shitting my pants and being thrown into a black van. The guy they took me to, was kinda merciful. Said I was just a kid and that I didn't deserve to die. But in order to make sure I didn't have some kinda mental break down and tell on them, he made sure I was initiated.