16. The Men We Used to Be #3
That made the room go silent because both Zay and I recognized that name immediately.
When Zay would check on Channy for me while she was in college, she had a roommate named Janessa.
She introduced her to drugs, alcohol, and other shit.
The whole time that bitch was cosplaying as her roommate when she was her half-sister,
Zay looked toward me slowly. And I already knew what he was thinking because I was thinking it, too. We finally had a direction.
Miles looked exhausted afterward.
“Please,” he whispered weakly. “I know ya’ll gonna kill me, but please protect my baby girl. I told y’all all I know.”
I nodded my head in gratitude. I reached into my holster and grabbed my Glock. I looked at Miles in his eyes. My momma taught me if you were going to take a life, have enough balls to look at them man to man.
“Miles, I’ll see your ass in hell.” Before Miles could cry out, I emptied my clip in him, shooting him in his disloyal ass heart. His lifeless body swung from that pipe.
By the time the clean-up crew arrived and Zay and I walked out of the warehouse, it was damn near three in the morning, and Crestwood looked dead.
It was too quiet for a city sitting on top of that much blood.
Cold air hit my face while warehouse lights glowed behind us against the riverfront.
Somewhere in the distance, cargo trucks moved through shipping lanes carrying legitimate business over foundations built from illegitimate pain.
Zay lit a cigar slowly beside me while both of us stood there in silence for a minute. Neither one of us was a smoker, but after nights like this, I did take a smoke. I needed something to take the edge off, so I took a puff of his cigar. Neither one of us rushed to speak.
“You think Jared gon’ make it?” Zay asked.
I leaned against the black SUV, staring out toward the city skyline.
“I think he’s too stubborn to die.”
But even though I said it to lighten the load? I didn’t fully believe it. Because I saw the blood and I couldn’t get Camilla’s screaming out of my head, and these Crestwood streets taught me bullets didn’t care how good a man was.
Zay exhaled smoke slowly beside me.
“If he dies—” He stopped talking.
He didn’t need to finish. Because we both already knew.
Camilla would never recover fully. His sons, especially JoJo, would spiral, and Jazzy would break.
And our women? Nah. Chanel and Kenya loved Jared differently.
He wasn’t just their big brother; he was their protector.
He was the first man who taught them softness from a man whose love didn't always come with conditions.
Sure, they had Andre. But he spent more time pouring into the church than pouring into his own home.
If Jared died? Something inside this whole family would rot permanently.
Zay rubbed one hand down his face tiredly. “We were all just happy this morning.”
Now look at us, back outside warehouses discussing murder at three in the morning like the old days never ended.
“Cameron tried to execute him publicly,” I muttered quietly.
“That was a message; now we need to send one.”
“Agreed,” I muttered,
“X, man, do you think after we put all this Sharon, Cameron, and Alan shit to bed, we’ll be too far gone now?”
I knew what he was really asking. Zay ain’t give a shit about needing to put a bullet in anyone’s head, but he was worried about having to kill Channy and YaYa’s Mom.
He was concerned that we couldn’t come back from this once we crossed the line.
Even I had to admit that keeping Sharon alive despite her treachery was easier than my Angel waking up and grieving her mother.
I didn’t want her to look at me like a monster.
But then I thought about Genesis, my twin nieces, my oldest niece, my three nephews, and the baby growing in Camilla’s stomach.
None of them deserved as much as a grandma liked Sharon. She deserved to die.
I answered Zayden honestly.
“Because of Sharon’s double ass life, her secret love child shot Jared in front of his kids.”
Zay nodded once slowly. “Fuck it, then everyone on the wrong side of this shit dies.”
At his words, I knew that the King brothers, whom everybody feared years ago, were back.
We made our way back to Zayden’s, showered, and burned the clothes we wore tonight. One of our soldiers, Liem, who was protecting the hospital wing, called me. Zayden looked at me with worried eyes.
“There’s been no change; he’s still in a coma, but YaYa and Channy were able to convince Camilla to take off the wedding dress and put clothes on. All the kids went home with Andre. Liem said they found residue near the sniper position. He said it was Federal-grade equipment.”
That was our confirmation. This wasn’t a street shooter or some random hating ass shit from people around the way not wanting to see Jared progress. This was organized and orchestrated by Cameron, or Janessa, or whoever that crazy ass bitch was going by today.
I looked out of Zay’s window toward Crestwood again while sirens echoed faintly somewhere deep in the city.
Then, finally, I spoke.
“Zay, man, we have to find her.”
“On momma, we’re going to find that bitch, and when we do, her death will be slow.”