Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Kross sat on the ground next to Cassie’s grave, not giving a damn about his designer jeans getting dirty.
He had to come see his lady. There was a darkness that crowded the skies of Miami that gave clear indication that a storm was to come.
He had been out there with Cassie for a little over an hour now, and he knew he was taking his chances with the weather, but he didn’t care if he got caught up in a little rain.
He had to admit, the guilt from Amoura pushing up on him more than anything had led him to visit Cassie twice in one week.
Even though he made it clear to Amoura he would never get down with her that way, he still felt like he needed to clear his conscious.
“Shit out here getting harder and harder, Cass. People I thought I could trust just moving weird as fuck.” He shook his head. “With Amoura, I thought she was cool people. Granted, everybody deal with grief differently, but how we supposed to come back from what she did?
“Then I gotta deal with Ezekiel out of all people holding out on info about them Chicago niggas. These motherfuckas all moving funny, man. Whatever happens from here, just know that I’m moving in the best interest of our son and out of respect for you,” he concluded with a dreadful sigh.
All this mess had been weighing on him heavily, so venting to his lady was the best he could do to escape his reality.
He stayed for a little while longer before deciding it was time for him to go.
Before leaving, he made sure to sit her bouquet of ruby red roses nicely on her headstone.
He exited the cemetery with a clear conscious and a sound mind.
While approaching his Maybach in the parking lot, he noticed a familiar silver Lexus parked next to him.
The car sat with the engine running; however, the driver was slumped over with their head resting on the steering wheel.
It didn’t take long for him to put two and two together to realize that it was shawty from the flower shop.
He ain’t want no problems with her after she recklessly accused him of following her crazy ass, so he went about his business and headed to his car.
As he was on the verge of starting his car, he felt a heaviness weigh down on him, one that he could almost describe as debilitating.
His conscience refused to allow him to leave without tapping in with the girl and making sure she was alright.
He got out of his car and made his way around to her Lexus.
He tapped lightly on her window a few times; however, it didn’t wake her from her slumber.
For a second, he had to really take a look at her to ensure that she was breathing and not dead.
Once he saw her chest rise and fall, he applied another series of knocks on the window, this time louder and more disruptive.
Her head jolted up, and she clenched at her chest with her eyes widened.
“Aye, shawty, you good?” Kross asked with his brow raised.
She didn’t even realize she had fallen asleep in the parking lot of the cemetery, so getting woken up sent her into a little bit of a shock.
With the window still up, she couldn’t really hear what Kross asked her.
While desperately trying to get her heart rate to mellow out, she rolled the window down.
“What?”
“I asked are you good?” he reiterated.
“Yes, I’m good,” she replied quickly with a hint of annoyance before attempting to roll her window up.
He screwed his face up in distaste before placing his hand on her window to prevent her from rolling it up fully. If she was actually as crazy as he thought, she would’ve rolled her window up, not caring if his hand got stuck, but she wasn’t, so she stopped.
“Nigga, what the fuck is it that you want?” she hissed at him.
“How about for something to come out your mouth without all that unnecessary fucking attitude? You looked damn near dead in that motherfucka’, and off the strength of me being a good-ass person, I looked out and asked if you’re good.
The least you can do is throw a nigga a ‘thank you,’” he slyly retorted with his upper lip turned up.
“I ain’t ask you to do nothing for me. I’m good. Now go about your business,” she dismissed him. Absentmindedly, she turned to angle herself to look him up and down with a grimace on her face.
Kross was then able to catch sight of right side of her face, which was bruised. From the looks of it, the black eye was fresh and marked her terra cotta skin with hues of blue and purple.
“You’re right,” he agreed with her while stepping away from her car. “You clearly dealing with a lot. I’m just not the type of nigga to walk past a female slumped over in her car. That’s all, shawty,” he concluded with a shrug of his broad shoulders.
Usually, he was big on minding his fucking business and not engaging in shit that didn’t pertain him, but seeing the way she was knocked out in her car triggered him to think of Cassie and her final moments. He just didn’t have it in him to leave without knowing if shawty was well and alive.
Guilt struck her hard once she realized he was just trying to be nice to her. “Thank you,” she let out, this time without any attitude. “My name is Remedy by the way.”
He looked over his shoulder and shot her a head nod. He had no interest in continuing conversation with her, so he just got into his car and pulled out into the main road, leaving her full of regret for the way she treated him.
He headed in the direction of the trap since he agreed to meet up with Los and Noonie around this time.
After the blow up that happened a few days ago between the brothers, Kross reclaimed his position at the top of the pyramid and reminded the Paper Chase Crew of the tight ship he used to run.
They were doing good on money and business, but after seven years and under Ezekiel’s leadership, niggas got sloppy and reckless.
Kross wasn’t fucking with any of that, so he made an example out of a few niggas who got a little beside themselves.
Now that he had jumped right back into the game, he had to admit the guilt of not living the good life he promised Cassie was eating him the fuck alive.
He felt like motherfuckas backed him into a corner when they took Cassie away from him.
How the fuck was he going to navigate a new life without the person he planned everything with?
He couldn’t! So, he fell back into what he knew best, what was familiar to him—the life he knew like the back of his hand.
This time around, he was gearing up to be ten times more lethal than last time. He was going to turn Miami upside down.
Entering through the doors of the trap, he was pleased to see business was running smoothly and niggas wasn’t acting like fucking idiots.
“What’s good, K?” Noonie dapped him up before returning to his task of weighing up the pack of exotic they got in from KP.
“Chilling. Where Los at? I told him to be on fucking time.” Kross smacked his lips as he checked his watch.
A chuckle streamed out of Noonie as he pointed to the back room of the trap.
Like clockwork, the door swung open, and Los came trudging out with a shawty who looked like she made a wrong turn into the hood.
She ain’t have no business being in this environment, let alone being in the back room of a trap, but Los had her so far gone with his gangsta’ demeanor and Florida accent, she was on whatever he was on.
“My fault, K. I was handling some shit real quick,” Los chuckled alongside Noonie as he extended his hand to dap up Kross.
Kross’ umber orbs drifted down to Los’ hand, which he left hanging before shifting them to the shawty who was desperately trying to hide behind Los’ teddy bear frame. It was evident that she was ashamed and didn’t want to be seen by anyone.
“We got business to discuss. Let’s get to it.”
Los nodded and led his girl out of the apartment so she could go on her merry way. Once he returned, he took a seat around the table alongside Noonie and Kross.
“So, what’s up?” Noonie asked, wanting to know why Kross called an impromptu meet.
Kross’ deep brown orbs scanned around the apartment, taking in all the memories and nostalgia it had to offer. The moment was short lived once he focused in on what really mattered.
“We closing down shop out here in Liberty and setting up shop up in Pompano,” he enlightened them. It wasn’t coming off as a suggestion ‘cause motherfuckas ain’t have room to object.
“Nigga, what? We been trapping out here since forever. We locked in out here. What you mean?” Los bumped his brows together, completely opposed to the idea of moving to new territory.
Kross leaned back in his seat as he motioned his broad shoulder in a shrug. “I’m not moving like I moved seven years ago. Y’all niggas got too comfortable and stagnant. I’m on to bigger and better shit, starting with taking over Pompano.”
Noonie let out a deep sigh as his eyes shifted from Kross to Los. “You know who else out in Pompano?” he asked Los.
“Them Zone 7 niggas.”
“Exactly,” Kross confirmed. “Nothing is off limits. Them niggas leaving Florida in a body bag.”
“Shit, if you rocking, then I’m rolling.” Noonie extended his hand to Kross to conclude the meeting with their handshake.
Noonie was down with whatever, so Kross wasn’t concerned about him the least bit. After dapping his cousin up, he glanced over at Los, who seemed to still be on the fence about bum-rushing these Chi-raq niggas’ territory.
“Nigga, if you scared, go to church,” Kross slyly told him.
“Ain’t no hoe in me. I’m just thinking about where Ezekiel falls into this. This war shit started with him. It needs to end with him too,” Los reminded him.
Another reason why Kross couldn’t stand being around his brother right now was the fact that he knew this war between the Paper Chase Crew and the Zone 7 Disciples could have probably been avoided and Cassie would’ve still been alive.
The more he learned about the way his little brother conducted himself while he was away serving time, the more he regretted his decision to entrust him with the throne.
The ego, the flashiness, and the recklessness were bound to be Ezekiel’s down fall.
“Nah, it started with him, but now, it’s ending with me. Ain’t nobody lose as much as I did, so I’m coming for blood,” Kross corrected him with a shake of his head. “So, you with me or I gotta make an example out of you too?”
“We family,” Los confirmed before dapping Kross up.
The men discussed the plan and a few more logistics for the move before Kross’ phone went off in his pocket. Upon seeing that it was his mother Raquel calling, he excused himself from the table and went to the back porch for some privacy.
“What’s up, Ma? ‘Niyis good?”
Raq gulped down the lump that was beginning to close off her throat before responding to her son.
“Kross, baby, you need to get here now. Something is wrong.”
She was in full distress while speaking to him. In the distance, Kross could hear the chaos that was going on in his son’s hospital room. His heart dropped and shattered in the pit of his stomach as the thought of losing his baby boy ran rampant in his head.
“I’m on my way.”