Chapter Thirteen #2
“Ain’t nobody paying for shit except you if you stay here. Danger already figured out who did the custom work on your ride. He gon’ hit that body shop and raise hell until somebody gives up the owner’s name. Then he gon’ bring that information straight back to Crown.”
Maino’s jaw tightened. If he were in his right state of mind, he most likely would care. He knew what the Knights were like. That’s why he had even warned Boe not to fuck with them. He knew more than anybody…because he secretly dated one.
“You have no idea how crazy this nigga can get. You shot the clubhouse up on the night he celebrating with his wife. Crown will cut your fuckin’ head off for that interruption and display it for the whole Hills to see.” Smoky said, his voice dropping lower.
Maino swallowed hard but tried not to show fear.
Smoky stared at him for another long second before shaking his head. He walked over to him, crouched down while looking him in the eyes and said,
“I love you just as much as I love the Knights, whether you can see that shit or not. So, I gotta get you the fuck out of town.”
∞∞∞
Back in Satin Hills, a sharp vibration against the marble side table beside the bed suddenly pulled Crown from sleep.
His eyes shot open and immediately dropped down.
In his arms, Nivéa slept peacefully beneath the black comforter, exhausted from everything they had done to one another throughout the night.
Her body rested halfway against his chest as soft breaths escaped her lips.
Another vibration hit, officially pulling Crown’s eyes from her to it.
He reached over quietly and grabbed his burner.
The screen lit up with perimeter motion alerts from the camera app connected to the cabin.
He pulled up the live camera feed and spotted three figures dressed in black creeping through the darkness.
Masks. Gloves. Guns. His expression hardened as his jaw tightened.
He glanced back over at Nivéa, and for the first time since he’d been putting in work, his heart stung.
These muthafuckas had caught him while he was with his wife.
Carefully but swiftly, Crown slid out from beneath Nivéa without waking her.
The room remained silent except for the low music still playing softly in the background.
The room was soundproof for privacy and discretion, which meant one could not hear anything happening outside the cabin from inside there, and vice versa.
That was exactly why he had perimeter cameras and motion sensors positioned throughout the property.
For one brief second, Crown looked back toward Nivéa sleeping peacefully in the bed.
Part of him wanted to wake and warn her, but the other part knew panic would only make shit worse.
Worse for the moment and…their marriage.
He had just told her this was a getaway spot and an escape from chaos.
Crown didn’t like being made a liar because he wasn’t one.
He also didn’t like the idea of his wife being scared.
Crown decided to leave her, knowing he had already shown her earlier how to override the lock from inside the room.
Nobody could get inside that muthafucka unless he opened it himself from the outside, but she could get out whenever she wanted if something did happen to him.
He built the room with privacy and protection in mind long before she ever entered his life.
So instead, Crown quietly grabbed his gun from underneath the pillow he had slept on, then slipped on his slacks and shoes before moving toward the door. Fuck it. He’d shoot it out in his reception attire. Once he stepped out, he secured the room from the exterior.
The second Crown stepped into the hallway, the peaceful husband disappeared completely.
Now he was Crown Knight again. Cold, calculated, and dangerous.
He moved through the dark cabin quickly, grabbing more weapons along the way.
One handgun came from beneath the hallway table.
Another from inside the kitchen island. He tucked both in his waistband right along with the other.
Then he reached beneath the living room couch and pulled out his custom AR pistol with the drum attached.
The cabin looked peaceful, but every room inside that muthafucka was built for war if needed.
He even had a gun storage in case shit did get real.
Crown checked the camera feed again. The three men were still moving, slowly cutting through the wooded path leading toward the back of the cabin.
Fuck that gun storage; Crown knew it wouldn’t come to that.
This was light work. Swiftly, he slipped outside through a side exit before they got any closer.
Rain drizzled lightly through the trees while darkness swallowed most of the property. Crown circled through the woods, and just as they were about to break apart, he caught the last nigga trailing slightly behind the others.
Boom.
The shot cracked loudly through the night as the bullet tore through the side of the nigga’s head.
His body dropped instantly beside the gravel path, alerting the other two.
Crown didn’t mind. It was exactly what he wanted.
He needed to lead them away from the cabin itself.
He didn’t want damage done to the property that he couldn’t fix by sunrise… damage that Nivéa would notice.
The other two immediately spun toward the gunfire and started letting off rounds deep into the woods toward Crown’s direction.
Bullets ripped through trees as he moved, using both the woods and shadows to his advantage.
This was his territory. He knew it through and through.
As the two shooters kept firing toward where they thought he was, Crown came around near the lower driveway and caught one of them exposed near the tree line.
Boom. Boom.
The man folded and hit the wet grass. The third shooter panicked after seeing him drop.
He began firing recklessly while backing away, bullets chewing through tree bark and ripping into the detached bike shed.
It pissed Crown smooth off, knowing he wouldn’t be able to repair that shit before the sun came up.
Crown watched the man calmly from behind a tree for two seconds before stepping out and firing twice, one round catching him low in his side and the other tearing through his thigh.
The man dropped hard onto his back, gasping and clutching his wound as his gun slid across the ground.
He tried pulling the extra handgun from his waist, but by then, it was too late.
Crown was already on him, pressing his shoe into his side.
He didn’t bother saying a word as he crunched down and removed the gun from his waist.
After collecting the pistol, Crown moved toward the body lying in the grass, ripping the ski mask off.
Nothing. He didn’t recognize him, so he stood and headed toward the first body he hit.
The second he snatched the mask upward, his eyes narrowed slightly.
That face was familiar, but he couldn’t place who he belonged to.
Crown finally walked back over toward the other shooter, who was still alive. The nigga was still breathing hard, blood bubbling from his mouth while he fought to stay conscious. Crown crouched down beside him and finally snatched the ski mask upward. This time, he knew without a shadow of doubt…
Preach’s right-hand stared up at him weakly, struggling for air while blood soaked through his clothes. Crown nodded while looking him in the eyes. He already knew he would live. He had been shooting guns too long not to know the difference between killing shots and suffering ones.
Crown stood back up before pulling his burner from his pocket and dialing a number.
“Yeah,” he spoke calmly once the call connected. “I need the cabin cleaned before sunrise. Three bodies. One alive. Keep him that way. And my wife is asleep inside. Keep her that way.”
By the time the sun rose hours later, every trace of violence was gone. Bodies removed. Blood cleaned. Shell casings gone. Besides the bike shed, the property looked untouched and peaceful, as if niggas looking to kill him had never set foot near it.
Inside the room, around 9:13 AM, Nivéa finally stretched awake against the silk sheets before smiling sleepily.
“Baby?” she called softly but didn’t get a word back.
Confused, she stretched and got up from bed. Her body was sore, stains of Crown dried all over her inner thighs. She snickered and shook her head as she reached for a blanket to toss around her.
Just as she was reaching for the door to let herself out, Crown entered carrying breakfast and orange juice, not a single trace of what he had done hours earlier showing on his face.
“Morning, ma.” He greeted her.
Nivéa admired his handsome face and physique before looking down at the plate in his hand. “Hey, baby. Good morning. You cooked?”
“Yep,”
“Damn, this looks good. You just keep surprising me with shit. I didn’t realize you could cook so well.”
“Yeah, I know a lil somethin’. Thought I’d be the one to cook today, then we can go enjoy a bath together.” Crown leaned down and kissed her lips.
Smiling, Nivéa sat back down in bed with her plate and Sunny Delight. Crown then went to get his plate and drink, and they sat and ate. He finished first and sat back admiring her naked body. When she was finally done, he broke the news.
“As you know, some shit came up with the club last night, baby. I gotta go handle it as soon as we done bathing.”
Nivéa nodded, though she was hoping they could spend the morning together, then go get Nyla and maybe go to the park or something.
“Okay, I’m ready to be with Ny anyway. It’s all good.” She said instead.
“You sho? You not mad?”
“No, baby.”
Crown nodded, but he could feel her disappointment. He appreciated her not showing it, though. He promised himself to make it up to her somehow and some kind of way.
“I’ma go pull the bike up front, so you don’t have to walk too far when we leave. I know them legs sore.” He tapped her thigh, licking his lips.
Nivéa giggled. “Shut yo’ nasty ass up.”
Chuckling, Crown stood and headed back to the front.
Outside, the corners of his lips slowly dropped as he received his bike from the detached shed.
It was the real reason they were leaving early and why he was moving the Harley.
He didn’t want to risk her exploring the property and seeing the damage that wasn’t there when they had arrived.
∞∞∞
After dropping Nivéa off at home, Crown headed straight for the clubhouse.
The entire ride over, his mind raced. Between the men showing up at the cabin in the middle of the night and the call he received about the clubhouse that morning, he had more questions than answers.
The one thing he knew for certain was muthafuckas were going to bleed.
When he pulled into the parking lot, his nostrils flared. Lock, Black, and Chris were already outside working, repairing broken glass. Other members were patching bullet holes scattered across the brick exterior.
Crown killed the engine on his bike and climbed off. Danger was already waiting near the entrance with his arms folded across his chest. One look at his brother's face told him he was just as irritated.
"Black Mustang. Blue headlights. Tinted all the way out." Danger said before Crown could even ask. “But they left us something to feed off.”
That caught Crown's attention because he was thrown off and needed answers.
A hit like the one at the cabin screamed Preach.
Shooting up their clubhouse with just one man?
It felt weak, not like The Dessalinés Mob.
They either struck quietly when you least expected it or came fully loaded, with multiple SUVs.
“What did you find?”
“Ran the footage back and studied the work of the Mustang. I got a pretty good idea who touched it. Just been waiting on you to give the green light.”
"Handle it and let me know what you find out, ‘cause I got some other shit to take care of."
“What other shit?” Danger asked, noticing the dangerous glint in his eyes.
For a moment, Crown didn’t answer. He was thinking through everything again. The timing bothered him more than anything. The reception. The cabin. If someone had touched his wife while trying to get to him, Crown would lose his shit even more than he already had.
"Me and Niv got followed from the reception.”
Danger's entire expression changed.
"What the fuck you talkin’ ‘bout followed? What happened?”
"I had company at the cabin around three this morning. Only you and I know about that spot. So, there’s no other explanation for how someone found it.”
The words hung between them.
"And Nivéa? Is she okay?”
"She’s good. I handled it while she was asleep. She doesn’t know shit. Keep it that way. Don’t tell Caresha.”
Danger exhaled slowly through his nose and shook his head. Shit was crazy at the moment.
"You think this was connected?"
"I don’t think so, but I’ma find out.” Crown said before dropping the bomb on him. “It was Preach men at the cabin. I kept one alive.”
Danger eyed him, his trigger finger itching. Anyone who knew him knew that was never a good sign. The calmer he got, the more dangerous he became.
“Where the fuck is Smoky?” Crown questioned suddenly, scanning the area. “He inside?”
“Nah, I’m not sure. Nigga left last night; I ain’t seen him since.”
“The fuck you mean you ain’t seen him since?” Crown’s worry intensified. It wasn’t like Smoky to go missing, especially when shit was going down.
Just as Danger was about to respond, a van pulled up, interrupting their flow.
“Never mind that. You go handle the body shop. I got this.” Crown shifted his focus, walking off.
With his eyes narrowed, Danger watched as the head of the cleaning crew dragged Benjamin’s bloody and bruised body out of it.