Clark
Since the Tyrant became unmanageable and destroyed FBP, I had to stay out of the way.
I got me a nice spot at a hotel, but when I spotted him in the lobby, I knew he was on a hunt.
When I felt like it was clear, I checked out early and found myself standing at the door of someone I hadn’t spoken to since trying to take the Tyrant down the first time.
When she opened the door, she stood there like she didn’t know who I was.
“Are you going to let me in or stand there?”
Nyomi crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here?”
“I need your help.”
“Do you have money? Clark, I heard you were broke.”
I sucked my teeth. “Nyomi, don’t believe everything you hear. Let me in, and we will talk details.”
“Clark, you make promises you can’t keep.”
Nyomi and her audacity. It was women like her who made me sick to my stomach.
However, it was also women like her who made my life a little easier when money was involved.
Did I have the money to give her? Yes. Did she need to know that?
No. Nyomi had one job, and she couldn’t get it done.
It was her mere incompetence that made shit like this hard, but she was the only one I could ask since Cynthia had ruined what little control I had over Sandra.
I went to step inside her house, and she stopped me.
She shook her head. “No! Clark, if you want to get your grandson, you’re doing it on your own.
I don’t have time to fight with his wife over a man who’s clearly minding his goddamn business.
You got yourself in whatever situation you’re in, and you’re going to get yourself out. Now go home to your wife!” she spat.
As she went to close the door, I panicked. “Cynthia died,” I mustered up tears. “My wife couldn’t take it anymore, and she—” I paused, peeking through my fake tears to see if she was buying what I was selling.
She nodded as she came forward just a smidge. “I’m sorry that your wife passed, I am. But whatever the cause was—probably your ways—you can take all of your juju shit somewhere else,” she finished before stepping back and closing the door in my face.
“Shit!”
I hurried back to my car and drove off. I rode until I ended up in the Cove City neighborhood. Parkside Cove looked so different than what I remembered. The city’s middle class looked so deprived, like it was starving, and all it needed was enough funding to get it back on its feet.
As I continued to navigate, I noticed a construction site being prepared. My foot eased on the brakes to get a better look at the sign. C&P Enterprises. I pulled out my phone to look it up and see the name, and it told me I wasn’t just going against a monster, but a monster with a soul.
“Calloway and Prince Enterprise. June Calloway and Bishop Prince. I’ll be goddamn,” I mumbled.
Even without our share of the money, they still moved forward with the project.
I didn’t know what to think as I took off.
A city I once controlled was no longer under my thumb.
I had depleted it of everything, only for my grandson to breathe life back into it, and I held no involvement.
No ties to bring my name in a good light, and that made me sick.
I found myself driving down a street that used to be my stomping grounds.
That was when the days were good. Reducing my speed, I stopped when I spotted Best in her front yard.
Best Harmon, the one person I knew could probably get me out of this rut, but I had tarnished any and everything that would give her the heart to help me.
It didn’t matter how bad I wanted to hit the brakes and scream, "Call off the dog.” None of it mattered. My pride was too heavy to do so.
I sped by and continued trying to figure out a way to beat that jungle nigga at his own game.
I drove until I ended up back at Naheem’s.
No one stood outside like the time before, which I found odd.
I parked the car, got out, and went inside the building.
The hall reeked of piss and poverty. Had things gotten so bad that Naheem didn’t see a way out of this?
We all had fallen from where we started, but it was only I who was left standing. It had to account for something.
As I made my way up the steps, I checked back to see if maybe one of Jungle’s people had come in. However, it was merely a homeless man dragging his feet and a cart.
“Say, man, do you have—”
“I don’t have shit!” I snapped as I continued up the steps.
When I reached Naheem’s dilapidated door, I used my strength to push it and step inside.
I glanced around, not sure what had truly led me here.
Just as quickly as I changed my mind, a blow to my head sent me stumbling forward.
Everything around me moved in a spinning motion.
I touched the side of my head and glanced at my hands to see deep red blood.
“The hell,” I mumbled.
As I glanced up, a blurry vision of what I thought was a dog of some sort confused me. Or was it human? I couldn’t tell, but his voice was rather familiar.
“Ju-ju- Jungle?”
Another blow to my head, and suddenly everything went black.