Chapter 16
“What you mean you ain’t gon’ make it to the shop in time to get the shipment?
” Markus questioned, pushing himself up and out of the guest bedroom.
He refused to sleep in his bedroom until the time permitted for him to buy a new bed and mattress.
If there weren’t so many other pressing things on his plate, he would have gladly put G out his misery.
The dead kid, his cousins acting as if they were dropped at birth and trying to maintain the territory he did have left G unchecked. Neveah too.
“I mean I’m running late, I need you to go get the shipment. Reign will probably be the first one there,” Nia spoke. Hearing her name made him perk up. “Don’t give her no shit okay? She’s going through enough and doesn’t need your nonsense added.”
“What would make you think I would give her shit?” Markus quizzed.
“Oh, I don’t know, you call her a mute every time you see her and Cyn said something about you putting her in your car. She doesn’t need you and your problematic dick.”
“First of all, fuck Cyn. She should be worried about her own house and her own nigga. Second of all, ain’t nobody trying to fuck that girl. My arm is fucked up, I can barely do half the shit I’m doing. Third of all, my dick ain’t problematic.”
“It ain’t?” Nia challenged. “Every time you get on your good bullshit, it creates problems for me. Leave her alone. She has four clients today. She’s been quieter than usual and I don’t want you triggering her.”
Markus grunted. “What’s her deal anyway? Who the fuck she runnin’ from?”
“If I knew that nigga would be in the sewer with the rats, but she doesn’t trust me enough yet to tell me,” Nia shared with a yawn. “Whoever it is, they did a number to her.”
“Like there’s more bruises on her besides her face?”
“All over,” Nia spoke, recalling the night she ran in front of her car. “Just be nice. I know that’s a tall order.”
“I’m nice.”
“You aren’t,” Nia huffed.
“I’m nice,” he asserted. “As fuck actually.”
“A nice shot, with nice shoes and a nice car and a nice house but you, Emilliano, aren’t nice. Just don’t be your regular self. I don’t need her running off. She’s made more money for us in a week than anyone else has.”
“So you keeping her around for the money?” Markus quizzed.
“No, but that’s a plus. I hate when I’m nice and the shit is a waste of everyone’s time and resources. I’ll call her later. Remember what I said.”
“I heard you. I got shot in the arm, not the head, Nia,” he grumbled.
“I don’t know. Even Reign asked if you were slow,” Nia spoke with a snicker.
He frowned. “Where the fuck she get that from?”
“Uh, maybe it was ‘Nia, I found your mute on the stoop’,” Nia repeated. “I told you lay off the pills.”
“Mmhmm,” he muttered, pouring two into his mouth. “I need a re-up. Handle that. I’ll update you when I get to the shop.”
“Good and all my shit better be there this time too.”
“Who is runnin’ this shit, me or you?”
“Me, nigga. I just let you think you’re in charge. Hang up, I’m going back to sleep.”
“What the fuck ever. Tell Svyn to have his ass at the warehouse by noon. You niggas ain’t slick.”
Nia smacked her lips. “Get off my line, Money.”
“Noon, Svyn, we got moves to make,” Markus called back before hanging up.
He washed, dressed, popped two more pills and ensured he had a few in his pocket and a blunt before leaving his house and heading into the city.
He swung by the warehouse to grab what Nia needed for both the salon and her other clients, then stopped to grab breakfast at Top of The Morning Café.
“Look what the cat drug in,” the barista crooned, spying Markus amongst the morning businesspeople buzzing around. “What you here for?”
He watched as she bit her lip, flipped her hair over her shoulder and let her eyes dance over him.
This was the look and the reaction he was used to.
That was what made him getting what he wanted out of women easy.
They damn near offered themselves to him on a platter.
They all wanted a piece of Money. Regardless if he was accepting offers or not, they loved him.
Be it his appearance, his charm underneath the brute or the knots in his pocket, this was the norm. What he wasn’t used to was Reign.
The moment her name flashed across his mind and those diamond-cut eyes shot his thoughts an avoidant gaze, he groaned inwardly. He continued to move toward the back, rounding the counter.
“It ain’t you,” he shot back, causing her to smack her lips and giggle.
“You keep playing, I’ll change your life,” she stated.
“I don’t need my life changed. I need two breakfast burritos and two blackberry lattes, none of the cow titty shit and both cups without your number on it. I ain’t callin,” he stated, roaming into the office.
She smacked her lips. “You know you want it, Money.”
“What I’m gon’ do with a shorty that can’t keep her phone on, and her hair done without some nigga doing it for her?” Markus queried, zapping the stupid, girlish grin from her face. “Yeah, I’ll never be your come up.”
Markus tapped the code on the door, stepped in, and closed it behind him.
Being that Brantley was demoted, Svyn was busy with balancing the streets and being in Nia’s space.
Markus had to collect the money until he found someone within his camp he could trust with the day-to-day.
Sooner than later, he needed someone who wasn’t on no bullshit when it came to his business.
Someone he didn’t have to micromanage or have the itch to put a bullet through.
The necessary money divided for bank deposits and laundering were wrapped and placed into his pockets. He exited the office ensuring it was locked behind him before scanning the buzzing storefront for the manager.
“Ay, Benji. You’re good,” he stated.
Benji slightly turned his body from the far end of the stations and nodded his response. “Your order is in the bag.”
“Good lookin’,” Markus muttered, grabbing it and starting toward the door.
“See you, Money,” the barista called.
“Do some damn work,” he shot back, grabbing his bag and heading out.
Twenty minutes through the city, he was pulling his truck up to the back door of the salon.
When he opened the door with his boot-covered foot, the sound of motion and the lights coming from the supply closet caught his attention.
The subtle noises and sniffling prompted him to silently place the things down and softly shut the door. Gun drawn, he inched toward the noise.
“I’ll put something hot through your ass,” he gritted.
Reign jumped, screamed, and dropped the tubes of color she was prepping for her first client. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!”
“Ah fuck!” Markus hissed dropping his gun from her face and putting it in the back of his pants. “What the fuck you doin’ here so damn early?”
“What the fuck are you doing pointing guns at employees?” she spat back, trying to regulate her breathing. “Something is wrong with you!”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with me,” Markus shot back. “Other than your ass sneaking around in the shadows.”
“What happened to basic decency. Like hi, hello, it’s me, the dumbass,” Reign shot back, picking up the tubes of color off of the floor. “This is too much.”
She muttered the last part as she squatted down to wipe up the developer she’d previously mixed to color the three bundles needed later today.
Markus grabbed a couple of nearby towels, squatting down to assist. Reign snatched them from him while trying to catch her tears before the floodgates opened again.
“I don’t need your help,” she shot. “Just go do whatever you were here to do. And leave me alone.”
“I came to bring you more supplies. Even got your snappy ass some breakfast. From mute to biting my head off. Imagine that,” he grumbled, standing to his full height.
“I don’t want shit you got,” she huffed, swiping her cheek free of tears and subsequently wiping the poorly-made foundation off too. “And dropping shit off is a quiet mission. Drop it off and leave.”
“I would have but your little ass was sneaking in the shadows.” Markus noticed the blemish.
Bright red even against the redness of her face from the apparent aggravation.
It was new. He knew that because he committed the old ones to memory.
He grabbed her chin with just enough force to make her slap his hand away.
“Don’t touch me,” Reign shot shooting to her feet. Running wasn’t a choice due to Markus’ frame blocking her exit. “Move.”
“Nah. What the fuck happened to your face?” he gritted, abandoning the banter to get to the root of this.
“I ran into a wall,” she stated avoiding his eyes. “Anything else?”
He moved closer to her. He grabbed another towel and took her chin back into his possession. Reign couldn’t fight him off nor did she have the strength. Not when he was peering down at her like he could see, feel and understand her pain.
The more he rid the make-up from her face the more his nose flared and his eyes narrowed. “Who did it?”
Reign looked away, pulling her face out of his tender hold. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. Where the fuck this happen?”
“At the hotel,” she replied, leaving major details out of the comment.
He scoffed bitterly. “This shit didn’t happen at the Grand and no one told me about it. If some shit happened there, I would know.”
“Are you stalking me or something?”
“I got ears and eyes everywhere.”
“Sounds like stalking,” she said, rolling her tired eyes. “Can you move?”
“No. Where were you?”
Reign shrugged.
“Reign.” His tone now low with direct warning.
She blinked another set of tears away. “Sunset Inn.”
“What are you doing at the Sunset Inn, Reign? You on some shit?” he semi-barked.