Chapter Eight #2
Crown walked over to the table, grabbing the package Smoky had tested and examining it again himself before tossing it back down.
“Told you quality on point, bro.” Smoky said, walking back inside.
“The rest better be, too. ‘Cause if niggas start dropping from bad work, all eyes come back on us.”
“This nigga.” Danger kissed his teeth. “I keep telling you, Jah’s good people, bro. You go from worrying about one thing to the next.”
“Damn right I do. That’s what keeps our black asses out the pen. So, you go handle what I told you. And tell them niggas cut that fuckin’ music down. They gettin’ too relaxed.”
Danger headed to the back, not bothering to argue with Crown’s grumpy ass.
Once the music lowered, Crown moved toward the bay door and stood there for a second, looking out across the empty industrial strip while rubbing his beard slowly in deep thought.
It was moments like this that reminded him exactly why retirement stayed on his mind more these days.
They were standing inside a warehouse with enough product inside the building to bury everybody in prison if the laws kicked the doors in.
But until the day he stepped down as president, Crown would do everything in his power to make sure the Knights stayed on top, and that didn’t happen.
∞∞∞
The next morning came entirely too fast. Crown drove with one hand on the wheel while the other rested on the center console of his Cadillac Escalade-V.
Less than three hours ago, he had been standing in a warehouse barking orders while helping break down dope.
He hadn’t made it home until four in the morning.
Yet here he was, right back up at seven, headed to church.
Crown was embarrassed to say that the only time he touched church grounds was to bury someone. He hadn’t been there to serve the Lord since he was about twenty-five.
Maybe he was trying to make peace with God.
Maybe he was hoping for a little grace in spite of his sins.
Maybe he was going because Kerri and Nivéa had been on his neck about it.
Either way, he was showing up. A husband and a father now, Crown was taking this family thing seriously.
Nivéa sat beside him, wearing a cream-colored midi dress with short sleeves and a square neckline. A gold Van Cleef necklace rested against her chest, while matching stud earrings peeked through her soft curls. Nude heels completed the look, giving her a simple elegance that turned heads.
In the backseat, Nyla slept peacefully in her car seat. She wore a cream-colored outfit that matched her mama’s, along with a pair of ruffled socks on her feet. Her gold bow stretched across her head, and her curls had grown even thicker.
Crown had coordinated too, wearing a cream button-down with the sleeves rolled to his forearms and a pair of slacks. A thin gold necklace rested against his chest, with a diamond cross pendant hanging from it.
The supercharged V8 carried them through the city while gospel music filled the truck. The playlist bounced from Yolanda Adams and Tamela Mann to Marvin Sapp and Donnie McClurkin.
‘We Fall Down’ resonated with Nivéa the most, nearly bringing her to tears. Crown nodded his head smoothly to the lyrics, holding her hand the rest of the ride until they reached church grounds. Effortlessly, he backed his truck into the lot and hopped out to get his family.
Kerri was already waiting for them, excitement radiating from her. She got out of her Benz at the sight of Crown’s truck and met them across the lot, wearing a brown church dress with a matching hat perched neatly on her head. A pearl necklace rested around her neck.
“There go my babies.” She said, a smile stretching across her face.
Nivéa smiled as she climbed out. “Good morning.”
“Morning, baby. How are you?”
“Tired. This one here kept me up most of the night being fussy.” Nivéa pouted as Crown retrieved Nyla from the backseat.
“Aww, she just needs some of my love. That’s payback to y’all butts for getting hitched in Vegas without her Grammy present.”
The two women hugged and laughed.
“Did you get your dress?” Nivéa asked, hoping everything worked out. The reception would be there in no time; only a week away.
“Yes, ma’am and my shoes. Grammy’s gonna be sharp. I can’t wait.” Kerri then turned to Crown.
“Son.” She wrapped her arms around him next and stayed there the longest. She was so happy to see him. Normally, it had just been her, Nivéa, and the baby.
“Morning, mama.”
Kerri pulled back and looked him over. She loved the man her oldest son was becoming. Yeah, he had always made her proud, but seeing him stand there with his family filled her with a different kind of pride.
“I’m glad to see you made it, baby.”
Crown smirked and nodded.
Kerri’s attention immediately shifted to the carrier in his hand. “And there’s my baby.”
The softness in her voice made Nivéa smile even harder. Kerri carefully reached down and brushed her fingers across Nyla’s cheek. The baby stirred in her sleep, stretching her tiny fingers before settling back down.
“Oh, look at her.”
“Yeah, now her butt wants to sleep,” Nivéa joked, playfully rolling her eyes.
Kerri shook her head, smiling. “That’s alright. Grammy gonna spoil you when you wake up.”
Crown watched the interaction quietly until movement across the parking lot caught his attention. Gunner was making his way across with his grandmother at his side.
Satin Hills was a big city, but somehow still small at the same time. Their people had been attending the same church for years.
When the two men locked eyes, Gunner smirked…like he knew something Crown didn’t. And that smirk unsettled Crown. He tightened his jaw as he watched the nigga walk into the church, deciding to let it go for now.
“Come on,” Kerri said, pulling him from his thoughts. “Let’s go inside before service starts. Y’all butts looking like y’all need a word today.”
Together, they headed inside, looking like any other family on a Sunday morning, and Crown felt… good despite that nagging feeling in his gut that something was wrong.