Chapter 1 Dominic Royal #3
“They know Kilo survived because of her,” I said. “That verdict was on every channel and every blog. If you can’t hit the man, you hit the person who got him out. It’s street logic, and you know this shit is dirty and stupid at times, but it’s logic.”
Dique’s expression changed, and I knew we was on the same page. “So all that shit wasn’t about us at all,” he groaned. “Them niggas went at Carmen because she beat the case.”
Tone’s jaws got tight. “Which still made it about us the second they did it.”
“Exactly.”
That was the part people outside of this life never understood.
Intent stopped mattering once blood hit ground near mine.
Whether they were aiming at her because she was my wife or because she was Kilo’s lawyer didn’t change what happened.
They still opened fire on a pregnant woman.
They still made me kneel in blood I thought was hers.
They still let my unborn child feel fear before the baby ever felt sunlight.
They had me, Dominic Royal fucked up. For all of those reasons, it made this shit personal, and we didn’t even deal with small shit because that wasn’t our world anymore.
Dique pushed back from the table and started pacing again, even slower. “Niggas think they bigger than the program.” he said. “Somebody behind that had them feeling bigger than they is.”
“Maybe,” Tone said. “Or maybe they just stupid and emotional. Hood niggas love crashing out when pride get involved. We know, we done lived that life.”
I stood up because sitting was making my body feel trapped especially when I wanted to kill somebody.
I walked over to the little window in the room and looked out at the hallway where officers were posted every few feet.
None of it mattered. Not them. Not the hospital.
Not the city. All I could see was Carmen’s face when I got to her on those courthouse steps.
“We don’t move tonight,” I said. “At least not on the outside.”
That made both of them look at me. Dique was the first one to challenge it. “The fuck you mean not tonight? Them niggas just—”
“I know what they just did,” I cut him off. “And if I move tonight, loud and emotional, all that does is make it easier for the law to connect what comes next back to this hospital. I’m not doing sloppy shit. I’m not giving the city something clean to point at.”
Tone slowly nodded because he got it before Dique did, everybody knew Dique was a hot head. “So we gather first.” Tone retorted.
“We gather everything,” I said. “Names. Blocks. Affiliations. Who gave the green light. Who handed him the camera. Who knew where Carmen would be standing. I want all of it.”
Dique still looked like he wanted to break something, but he understood the value in patience. We weren’t regular street niggas. We had the luxury of planning our violence.
“And when we get it?” he asked.
I looked at both of them and let the silence fill our space. “When we get it,” I said finally, “we clean Riverside the fuck up.”
Nobody smiled because it wasn’t shit to smile about. Tone shut the laptop and slid it under his arm. “I’m on it.”
Dique nodded. “Me too.”
I reached for the door handle and stopped before pulling it open. “One more thing.” I said. Both of them looked up. “Carmen don’t hear none of this from nobody but me,” I said. “She got enough on her body right now.”
Tone agreed immediately without speaking a word.
Dique took a second longer because he had never been good at holding this kind of water whenever he was ready to blow some shit up, but he nodded too.
When I stepped back into that hospital room and saw her still in that bed, still pale, and still trying to rest with all those wires taped to her skin, it hit me all over again.
Carmen looked up when I came in. Her eyes were tired, but she was alert. She knew me too well to miss the hard look in my face.
`“You know something,” she said quietly. “Don’t you?”
I shut the door behind me and walked back to her bed. “Yeah.”
She waited just staring at me searching for an answer. “It wasn’t cartel,” I told her. “It was street shit; it was some Riverside niggas.”
Her eyes dropped down into tiny slits as she pieced it together. “Because of Kilo.”
I nodded and leaned back in the chair. For a second neither one of us said anything. The monitor kept beating out our child’s heartbeat in the background, but it was steady and innocent, which I liked to hear.
Carmen then let out the softest breath and stared up at the ceiling. “I knew that was a possibility,” she whispered. “I just didn’t want to say it out loud without proof.”
That told me she had already been thinking it too. Of course she had though because that was my wife, that’s how she was taught to be sharp enough to see a trap before the rope was even tied.
I pulled the chair closer to her bed and sat down again. “Now we got proof.”
Her hand found mine under the blanket and she let it linger there before I gently squeezed . “And now?” she asked knowing damn well she knew I wasn’t laying down on this.”
I looked at her, then at the monitor, then at the closed door that kept the rest of the world outside. “Now,” I said, “they find out what touching you cost. You know how this go wifey. Get some rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up.” I told her, and she knew I meant every word.