Chapter 47 Amethyst #3
“Yeah,” he laughed. “Baby brother went after Yale for a reason.”
“Because Robert told him to?” Quincy’s smile dropped momentarily, and I knew I was on to something. “What about your wife? Ta’lon, was she under his employment, too?”
“Employment?” Quincy laughed and shook his head. “Ta’lon ain’t no fucking employee of Robert’s!”
“Oh, are you sensitive about your wife?” I laughed, taunting him. “Little mama means something to you?”
“Where the fuck is she?” He panicked over the thought of Ta’lon, which was interesting.
“You love her, huh?” I questioned him. I looked over at Citrine, who was watching Quincy. “Huh, Quincy, you love Ta’lon?”
“Love?” he repeated and shook his head. “Ain’t no love on my end for her ass.”
“Then what has you stressed?” I reached into my bag and pulled out a surgical blade. “If it’s not love, then what is it?”
“Nigga, just kill me so this shit can be over with,” Quincy said, glaring at me. “That’s why you’re here, right? To kill me. So do it and stop asking me all these fucking questions.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” I stood and approached him.
“I have eight years of pent-up anger and six months of full-on rage to deal with before you can die.” Using my blade, I cut from his shoulder down to the tip of his middle finger.
The only part of his arm that wasn’t cut was where his restraints were.
Quincy yelled and thrashed against his restraints, but he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Now let’s play a game. I’ll ask you questions; if you don’t answer, I’ll cut a muscle or a tendon. If you do, then I’ll let you be.”
“Fuck you, nigga,” he spat in pain.
“Let’s start with something easy,” I said, ignoring him.
“What the fuck does Robert want with us?” I stood over Quincy and waited.
When he didn’t answer, I put my scalpel in my empty seat, then grabbed a pair of gloves from my bag and put them on.
Quincy’s eyes followed my movements. “This is your last chance to answer my question.” I stuck my hands into his cut and pulled his skin apart, exposing his muscles and tendons.
Quincy screamed in pain, and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.
I picked up the smelling salt from the bag and waved it under his nose.
“No night-night time, nigga.” Quincy jolted awake, and I laughed.
“Now, where was I?” I looked around, and when my eyes landed on my scalpel, I picked it up. “Why is Robert after us?”
“Where the fuck is Ta’lon?” he groaned instead of answering me.
To prove to him I wasn’t playing, I cut into his bicep, and he screamed. “Answer my question, Quincy. Why is Robert after us?”
“Fuck you.”
“Fine,” I sighed, then shook my head. “Don’t say I didn’t give you the chance to do this shit the easy way.
” I put the scalpel on the table, then pulled the skin apart on his forearm, exposing his muscles and tendons.
I cut them away until I got to his Ulna.
Once it was fully exposed, I went back to my bag and grabbed my surgical saw.
I cut his ulna, and Quincy screamed so loud I thought he was going to pass out again, but he didn’t. “Now, are you ready to talk?”
“Never,” he panted.
I loved a nigga that was tough because it allowed me to get all my twisted ass fantasies out without being questioned. I reached into my bag and took out a pair of pliers.
“What are you going to do with those?” Xoey excitedly asked.
I’d forgotten she was here because she was so quiet.
Instead of answering her, I went to Quincy’s hand and pulled his skin apart.
“Now, Quincy, this is going to hurt just a tad, okay?” I informed him, then stuck the pliers into the opening in his skin.
I opened them, wrapped the head around his bone, and pulled his finger through the opening of his skin.
“Oh, that’s nasty,” Citrine said behind me. “Real fucking nasty.”
“I like it,” Xoey laughed.
I kept my focus on Quincy, ignoring them. “Now, are you ready to talk, or do I need to do that again nineteen more times?”
“You can do that to feet too?” Xoey asked. “Quincy, please don’t answer him. I want to see that shit so bad.”
“Robert’s beef ain’t with y’all,” he groaned, shaking his head. I knew the pain was getting to him because he was sweating like crazy. “Y’all are just collateral damage.”
“So his beef is with who?” I sat across from him. “Y’all went after Yale and me. If it ain’t us, then it’s Tulane then, right?”
“Partially,” he panted.
“Explain, Quincy,” I sighed. “Fill in the fucking blanks.”
“That’s all I know.”
“No, it’s not,” I said, shaking my head. I stood and moved to his other arm, repeating my actions by cutting his arm over, snapping his ulna, and pulling a finger through its skin. This time, I did his pinky.
“Alright!” he yelled. “Alright, I’ll tell you.”
“Start talking,” I instructed him.
“Robert wants his nephew dead!” Quincy groaned. “Shit, he wants them all dead, and he wants Corinthians back.”
“Back?” I questioned, and he nodded. “What the fuck do you mean by back?”
“Corinthians was Robert’s pet,” he answered. “I don’t know how to explain it. It’s rich people’s shit. Shit way above my pay grade. All I know is something happened years ago with Corinthians and him.”
“She was his pet? Nigga, are you crazy?” I questioned him. “The shit you are saying is sick as fuck.”
“That nigga doesn’t care,” he said, shaking his head. “He’s obsessed with her. Has been for years. He even kidnapped the other girl at one point. It’s some shit with them rich folks.”
“So, this is about Corinthians?” I clarified, and he shook his head. “No, then what the fuck is going on, Quincy?”
“Robert wants Corinthians--”
“You said that part already!” I yelled. “Tell me something I don’t know. Tell me why the fuck we were dragged into this!”
“Because of your parents,” he mumbled. “Y’all parents crossed Robert.
He said if he was going after one, he was going after everybody: Y’all, the DeCortes, St. Thomases, and Strongs.
Y’all were tied together before y’all even realized it.
Y’all parents did some fuck shit.” He started laughing and shaking his head.
“For years, Robert has been plotting. He moved shit from the sidelines without y’all realizing it.
He put niggas in places; the situation was always in his favor.
He watched, plotted, and schemed all these years.
Y’all are friends because of him. He did that shit.
” He dropped his head back and smiled. “Since I was old enough to remember, I sat in meetings with my Pop, Robert, and Javien Sr. They plotted on y’all’s downfall for years.
” He closed his eyes. “Played chess while you niggas played checkers. They didn’t care who they had to hurt, kill, or make an enemy for it to work.
” He opened his eyes, lifted his head, and looked at Xoey.
“You killing Xierra wasn’t a part of the plan, though.
That was the only thing that he didn’t see coming, but he learned and adapted.
Nothing else surprised him.” He looked at me.
“Yale was supposed to die in that wreck, shit, y’all both were supposed to, but when y’all lived, Robert decided to switch it up.
He knew how much Tulane loved his daughters, so he wanted another one at his fingertips.
Her marrying Grant was the next best thing, and we knew you’d do whatever it took to save your precious Sunshine, so we put you on the team.
He got two for the price of one because of your pride.
Had you gone to your big brothers over there for the money instead of agreeing to a fuck ass deal, you would’ve been killed, and Yale would be on the stroll making money. ”
“Fuck nigga.” I moved towards him, but Citrine pulled me back. “Let me go.”
“Let him keep talking. The delirium from the pain is how we are getting answers,” Citrine said, shaking his head. Once I calmed down, I nodded, and he let me go.
“Robert had Javien Sr. go into debt and then offer up Jr. to Pyrite. His money-hungry ass wasn’t going to chance losing money, so he jumped at the opportunity. Citrine was stuck on Ta’lon, but that bitch had bigger plans.”
“Your wife fucked with a real nigga, and you couldn’t handle it?” Citrine taunted him.
“That marriage was in name only,” he said, shaking his head.
“I never touched Ta’lon. She and her bitch ass best friend made sure of that.
When she got bored with Citrine, she ran right to her, begging for her to have Robert pull her from dealing with Citrine, and because Robert can’t say no to pussy, he agreed.
Ta’lon went on with her life as her best friend’s fucking lapdog.
I never loved Ta’lon; she was just a replacement for the woman I wanted. ”
“Where is Robert?” I asked him.
“Watching,” he chuckled and shrugged. “I knew you niggas were coming. It was only a matter of time. You’d knocked off my entire family.
I was counting my days.” He shook his head.
“If it weren’t you, it would’ve been one of the Strongs or DeCortes.
” He looked at Xoey and smiled. “You wouldn’t have done it, though, Xoey.
You’re too damaged. Too fragile. Too weak.
” I expected Xoey to react, but she didn’t.
She sat watching Quincy with an unreadable expression.
“Ain’t that what you cried that night?” he laughed and nodded. “Yeah, that’s what you cried.”
“Quincy!” I called his name to get his attention. I didn’t like how he was looking or talking to Xoey.
“I’m scared; somebody help me. I can’t!” He mocked Xoey.
His eyes were empty as he stared at her.
“The big bad Xoey St. Thomas isn’t shit, but a little girl curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth, pissy and scared.
” He tilted his head to the side. “Ain’t that right, Xoey? ” he laughed when she looked away.
I stepped into his line of vision and stared down at him. “Anything you want to tell us before I kill you?”
“Nah,” Quincy said, shaking his head. “I made peace with my death. Kill me.”
Headlights flashed through the front window, and I turned to see who was pulling up. I approached the front door and looked through the peephole to see Psalms and Corinthians walking toward it.
“What are y’all doing here?” I asked after I opened the door.
“We aren’t here for you,” Psalms said, shaking her head. They walked into the house, and I closed the door behind them.
“How did y’all know we were here?” I asked.
“Nine,” Psalms answered.
“Oh, look,” Quincy chuckled, then licked his lips as he watched Corinthians.
“They let you off your leash, huh?” He had the nerve to smile at Corinthians as if it were a friendly meet-up.
He looked over at me. “Do you know what they had her doing as a child? Shit was crazy. I’ve seen her in action in person.
They created a fucking killing machine out of her.
Hell, out of both of them.” He nodded at Psalms. “She was a little different, though. Not as focused as her sister, so they used that against her. Every time Psalms said no or couldn’t do it, Corinthians had to.
” His smile got bigger. “I’ve seen her do some crazy shit.
” His smile dropped, and he glared at Corinthians.
“Why didn’t you stay? He would’ve given you anything!
He begged you! Cried for you! But you didn’t stay! Why didn’t you stay?”
“Because I’m not a fucking monster!” Corinthians yelled. “I’m not the fucking monster he wanted me to be.”
“Yes, you were!” He fought against the restraints as much as he could. The only way he wasn’t feeling his injuries was from the adrenaline pumping through his veins. “You were beautiful. Magical! You didn’t have to pick Uri! You could’ve stayed!”
Psalms stepped forward, but Corinthians grabbed her arm to stop her.
“You have no idea what they did to me as a child,” she said, shaking her head as she approached Quincy.
“The torture they put me through. Put my sister through. Shit, what they put Trey and Four through. You have no idea what we went through because you always had to sit on the sidelines.” She circled Quincy, her long nails scraped against his jaw before she grabbed it and held it in place.
“I’m not the monster they tried to create. ”
“Yes, you are,” he grunted.
“No, I’m not,” she said, shaking her head. She bent and whispered something in his ear. Quincy’s eyes got big with surprise, then she stood and looked at me. “Kill him, but I want his head.” She let go of Quincy’s face and walked away from him.
“Corinthians!” Quincy yelled, but she didn’t stop walking. “Corinthians!”
Once the sisters were gone, I approached Quincy, who was pissed off. “What did she say to you?” I asked him as I went through my bag. When he didn’t say anything, I looked up to see him glaring at me. “What?”
“Just fucking kill me, nigga.”
“Bet.” I picked up my bone saw, replaced the blade, then took a surgical mask out and put it on.
I turned to my brothers and Xoey. I turned back to Quincy and turned on the saw.
“This is going to hurt.” I turned to Citrine, who looked like he was about to throw up, and smirked. “Big bro, this is going to get messy.”
“Just do what the fuck you gotta do,” he said, waving me off.
“Bet,” I laughed, then turned it on and pushed the saw to Quincy’s throat. Blood splattered on my face shield, but I didn’t stop cutting until his head fell to the ground.