MONEY
The way Solei screamed on the other end of the phone had me pushing my Lambo faster to get to her. I took the highway north, weaving through traffic like it wasn’t even there.
My mind wasn’t clear. It was a fucking storm of rage and violence.
I kept seeing her face and replaying her scream over and over.
I didn’t know whether she was conscious or bleeding out on the floor somewhere while I was still damn near an hour away.
I pressed the gas pedal harder and felt the engine roar beneath me.
My phone buzzed in my lap and I saw it was Tip calling. I answered. “Just the nigga I need.”
“What’s good, bro? Check hit my line. Solei’s in trouble?”
“Yeah. This bitch ass nigga got her.” I quickly pulled up the address in my Notes that Solei had just given me and told Tip. “I’m sprayin’ this nigga when I see him. I can’t fuckin’ believe…”
“Say less, bro. Go get her and I’ll handle the rest, aight?”
“Aight.” I hung up and threw the phone on the passenger seat.
Forty-five minutes later, I pulled off the highway and followed the GPS down a series of narrow roads that cut through dense forest. Nothing but trees.
Lake Terrace was a playground for the rich.
Private estates with gates and long driveways, and enough land between properties that you could scream for hours and no one would hear you.
I spotted the turnoff and eased the Lambo to the shoulder, a hundred yards out. I grabbed the Glock .40 from under the seat, got out, and walked toward the house.
The shit was massive–two stories, stone and wood construction, floor-to-ceiling windows on the first floor, a wraparound porch, a detached garage, and a dock that stretched out into the lake with a boat tied to it.
I didn’t even scope it out. I just walked straight up to the front door and tried the handle.
It was locked. So, I took two steps back, raised the Glock, and fired twice.
The shots shattered the deadbolt off, wood splintering everywhere.
I rushed inside, eyes searching, Glock up, heart pounding.
I passed a bathroom and a few closets and came up without Solei.
I checked every room on the first floor, moving fast but methodically.
And then I heard footsteps coming from my left.
I spun around just as Darius came crashing out of a side room, his eyes wild and unfocused, his face covered in sweat and blood.
His shirt was torn, and his hands were shaking.
“Muthafucker!” He came at me fast, swinging wild and desperate.
Without hesitation, I raised the Glock and squeezed the trigger three times, knocking him back.
“Bitch ass nigga.” I squeezed again, the suppressor muffling the shot that entered Darius’s forehead.
His head snapped, blood spraying across the wall behind him.
His body crumpled to the floor, dead before he hit it, the knife dropping.
I stood there for a second, breathing hard.
I stepped over Darius’s body and kept moving through the lake house.
“Soul,” I called out for her, and all I got back was an eerie silence.
I searched each room on the rest of the first floor, then climbed the stairs and checked each bedroom and bathroom on the second floor. Every space was empty.
Then I got a gut feeling to check the basement.
I moved quickly to the basement door, every muscle in my body tensed and alert.
I pushed the door open, saw the stairs descending, and called out again, “Soul!” Stepping carefully but urgently, Glock raised, and I descended into the basement, keeping my breathing controlled. “Fuck!”
Solei was lying on the concrete floor at the bottom of the stairs, crumpled against the wall like a broken doll. Her clothes were torn, her hair was matted, and blood pooled underneath her.
I rushed to her, dropped to my knees, and felt for her pulse by pressing two fingers gently to her neck.
I found her pulse faint and barely there.
I leaned closer to check her breathing, which was shallow–each breath sounded like it might be her last. Her face was swollen beyond recognition, one eye completely shut.
Her lip was split open. Her cheek was purple and black.
I felt something break inside my chest seeing my fucking wife like that.
“I gotchu baby,” I whispered. “I’m here.
You’re safe now.” I pulled off my white tee and covered her torn clothes.
Then I scooped her up in my arms, cradling her against my chest. Her head lolled against my shoulder as blood soaked into my white tee.
“Stay with me, Soul,” I whispered. “Don’t leave me now, baby. Stay with me.”
I started up the stairs, moving fast but carefully.
Every step felt like it took forever, and every second felt like she might slip away.
I reached the top of the stairs and moved through the hallway, stepping over Darius’s body without looking at it.
I kicked open the front door and started running towards my Lambo, Solei’s body bouncing gently against my chest with every step.
“Don’t leave me, baby,” I muttered, yanking the passenger door open. “Stay with me.”
I eased her carefully into the seat, making sure she sat upright before reaching across her to buckle the seatbelt around her limp body. My hands were covered in blood, but I brushed her hair away from her face like I could somehow erase what that bitch ass nigga had done to her.
I slammed the passenger door shut, hurried around to the driver’s side, and climbed in before peeling out towards the city.
Solei needed a doctor immediately, and I knew just who to go to.
Not a hospital with police questions. No paperwork.
She needed somebody who knew how to patch people up without asking what happened.
I knew Tip would handle the rest by wiping the evidence clean, getting rid of the body, and having the lake house looking untouched in no time. Darius nigga didn’t deserve a funeral, flowers, or muthafuckas crying over a casket.
As far as the world would know, Darius panicked after all the financial crimes started catching up to him and disappeared before the Feds could close in.
A rich coward with too much heat on him going into hiding made a lot more sense to people than somebody finally putting his ass in the ground.
And honestly, nobody was going to look that hard for a snake like him anyway.
My jaw clenched as I flew down the empty road, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other reached across the console for Solei’s hand. I held onto it tight, like letting go would somehow let her slip away from me for good.
“God,” I whispered hoarsely, my throat burning as I looked over at her bruised face. “I can’t lose her. I can’t. Come through for a nigga.”