Chapter 21 #3
“You niggas know nothing,” he answered with a laugh.
Isaac boldly walked over to the couch and sat down.
“You’re a small fish in an ocean that you think is a fucking fish tank because your daddy has protected you for years.
” He leaned back and shrugged. “Step the fuck on before we forget you’re supposed to be protected. ”
“You talk a lot of shit for a nigga that’s about to die,” I said, and Isaac mugged me. I don’t know who put a battery in this nigga’s back, but he for sure was sitting like he was untouchable.
“Me, die?” he laughed, then wiped his hand over his fade. “My nigga, you’re sitting in my brother’s house, on his couch, with you and just your brothers to help you. It’s ten of us here. We got you outnumbered.”
“And will still lose,” I replied as I sat forward.
“Let me break something down to you. This house.” I pointed to my surroundings.
“Is in Yale’s name. I made sure of it a few years ago.
Her security system? Owned by my boy and paid for by me.
So it ain’t shit I can’t do in this muthafucka and get away with it. ”
“You think that means something besides you don’t run shit?” he asked. “Your daddy taught y’all how to play chess, right? You know what a pawn is, right? The fucking sacrificial piece on the board. That’s what you niggas are. Nobody ass niggas that think they run shit.”
“And what are you?” I questioned him. Typically, Isaac was the quiet brother, but seeing him sit here and speak like he’d grown some balls was comical.
“Because to me, you’re an errand boy that finally is getting some slack on his leash.
” I sat forward. “Tell me, Isaac, has Daddy finally let you come off the porch yet?”
“Let me off the porch?” he questioned. “Nigga, I’ve been roaming the streets since I was ten. Can you say the same?”
“Nah, I’ve been out there longer,” I laughed. “You’re the church boy, right? The one who sings in the choir and runs the youth sports team. Tell me, Isaac, what’s it like being daddy’s bitch.”
“I wouldn’t know,” he answered with a shrug. “Like I said, I’ve been in the streets long enough to move and shake. Bitches know my name and the taste of my nut.”
“Eww,” Citrine said from his spot in the corner of the room, and all I could do was laugh. This nigga was funny as fuck without even trying.
“Oh yeah, the germophobe,” Isaac chuckled and shook his head. “I forgot you don’t like shit like that. Let me guess, your bitch gotta suck your shit all pretty, and she doesn’t get wet while you fuck, so her juices don’t touch you?”
“You’re focused too much on my dick,” Citrine said, shaking his head.
“Yeah, I’m right,” Isaac nodded. “You too pretty for the nasty shit, nigga. I know, because Lavender. She’s pretty, I bet her pussy is pretty too.”
“Is this nigga done yet?” Citrine asked, looking over at me. Isaac bringing up Lavender was a hot topic for Citrine, and it was apparent. “Call that nigga and check on his location.”
“He’s on the way,” I laughed as I stood. Isaac didn’t look scared, but I liked the tough guy act. “Isaac, go ahead and call your people in here so we can kill them and send y’all on to where y’all belong.”
If Isaac had taken me up on my offer, I would’ve thought that nigga was crazy, but respected him for not being scared. Instead, he shook his head and smiled at me. “You call them niggas,” he replied.
“Nigga, he said, you do it,” Pyrite said, then shot him in the leg. Isaac screamed in pain as he held his leg, and Pyrite looked bored. He hit him in the head twice and knocked him out, then turned to me. “If that nigga weren’t needed for other shit, I would’ve killed him.”
“I know,” I said as we walked to the doorway we’d come through. Yale’s house wasn’t open concept, but it worked in our favor. We walked back to the foyer and moved down the short hallway to the kitchen. The Kilmores had no idea we were behind them.
Pyrite shot Paul in the shoulder, and I hit Grant in the back of the head with my gun, and he dropped to the ground. I should’ve known Isaac was lying about how many of them were here.
“Why didn’t you shoot him?” Pyrite asked as he rounded the brothers. “Make this shit quick, get the cleaner in here, and go on with our lives.”
“I got questions,” I said as I looked at my watch. “Citrine?”
“What’s good?” he said as he stood on Paul’s shoulder. For this nigga to not like bodily fluids, he was always doing something to produce them.
“Can you get the door? Pick up is here,” I said, and he grilled me. “Man, just get it.”
“I may own a hotel, but nigga, I am not a bellhop,” he grunted, then stepped off Paul’s shoulder and kicked him in the side. “I’ma do it this one time, but next time, you do the shit.”
“I got you.” I checked Grant to make sure he didn’t have a gun, and I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t. He was the good one in the family, so having a gun on him wouldn’t have fit his image.
Citrine went to open the door, and I checked over the other two brothers. “Ay, bitch boy.” I tapped Paul on the cheek to make him look at me. “Talk to me right fast.”
“Fuck you,” he mumbled, and I pushed two fingers into his shoulder. He screamed in pain, but I didn’t give a fuck.
“No name-calling,” I said, shaking my head. “Now, let’s try this again.” I pulled my finger from his wound and patted his cheek. “Bitch boy.”
“You said no name-calling,” Pyrite laughed.
I looked up at him and shrugged. “I don’t count,” I replied, and he shook his head.
“Man, go on and talk to that nigga,” he said, waving me off. “I got a flight to catch here shortly.”
“Where the fuck are you going?”
“To bail out Javien’s stupid ass,” he answered with a grunt. “Nigga partied too hard in Texas and now needs me to show my face.”
“He’s digging himself more and more into debt,” I said, then turned my attention back to Paul. Why this nigga wasn’t fighting back was beyond me. He was lying here with one gunshot wound in his shoulder, and he was acting like his world was over. “Now bitch boy, answer this question for me.”
“I ain’t telling you shit,” Paul grunted.
“Damn, I was hoping you said that because that nigga wants you too,” I replied, then stood. I stomped on his gunshot wound, then kicked him in the face.
“Oh, that nigga looks pissed,” Pyrite said as Uri, Citrine, and the Lidell brothers walked into the living room.
The Lidell brothers being with him meant that Psalms had made good on her word by calling them in.
Having Term, Script, and Word around was going to shake up a lot of shit and make niggas move, which meant they would get sloppy.
And a sloppy nigga would eventually show their hand, and I’d be waiting.
“Do you blame him?” I asked, and Pyrite shook his head.
“This family had tortured his woman for years, and they didn’t even realize it.
Uri, they are all going to the warehouse.
” Uri nodded, then put his hands in his pockets.
He wasn’t a talker, and I understood why.
“Ex is going to handle the cleanup, and we will meet you there.”
Uri nodded, grabbed Isaac by his ankle, and dragged him out of the house. The Lidell brothers did the same, and they all left as quickly as they came.
“He’s going to crash out,” Pyrite said. “You may as well be prepared to not get any answers because of it.”
“Nah, we have an agreement,” I said, shaking my head. “He knows he can’t kill them until I get the information that I need.”
“Uri doesn’t follow the rules,” Citrine chuckled.
“Trust me, I should know.” He lifted his shirt to show the proof.
Back in the day, when Citrine did underground boxing, he’d met Uri in the ring a few times.
Every time they stepped into the ring together, one of them ended up being seriously injured.
The last time Citrine had to have surgery was because Uri had broken his ribs, and one of his ribs had perforated his colon.
Not too many people knew that he had a colostomy bag because of Uri.
“Once he’s in a zone, there’s no going back. ”
“Then we need to go,” I said, and my brothers nodded. I wasn’t worried about the house. Ex would make sure it was clean, and would wipe the security cameras.
**
“Ay, now nigga open them eyes.” Grant’s eyes snapped open, and I smiled. “Yeah, nigga welcome back to reality. Now that you’re here, explain something to me.”
“Go to hell,” he grunted.
“That’s probably my reality.” I shrugged. I’d done some evil ass shit in my life. Things that I couldn’t come back from, and I dealt with those daily. The only good thing that was ever attached to me was Yale, my Sunshine. “But until then, I’ve got shit to deal with. Starting with you.”
“Fuck you,” he replied. “I ain’t telling you shit.”
“Oh, you think?” I questioned. I wrapped my hands around his neck and squeezed; my grip never wavered, he was going to feel every fucking ounce of my strength. “Do you know the kind of nigga you’re dealing with?” I stared down at him. “Do you realize that I’m not wrapped too tight?”
“He’s really not,” Pyrite said from behind me, and I cut my eyes at him. He threw his hands up in surrender and chuckled. “I’ma shut the fuck up and stand over here.”
“Thank you,” I nodded, then turned back to Grant.
“As I was saying. I’m off, like so off that even though that nigga was committed.
..” I nodded at Pyrite. “I was the one my people worried about. He went down for my crimes because he was protecting me. But do you know what that did for my mental?” I gave him a smile I knew didn’t reach my eyes.
“It unleashed a whole new level of crazy, and the only person that’s ever been able to control it is Yale.
” Grant’s eyes started to roll into the back of his head again, and I, without thinking, reached into my pocket and pulled out the pocketknife I carried, flicking it open.