12. Lights Out #3
“Ayla and Inari both agreed to fly out with us. I told them to be ready. Make sure Moose and Kong are on their best behavior. I don’t know what’s going on with any of them.
Ayla’s being weird, and Inari is on edge.
I just want everyone to be able to keep their minds off all the other bullshit and have a good time. ”
“Then that’s what the fuck it’s gon’ be. I’ll fuck anybody up that try to rain on your shit.”
She giggled, and his heart fluttered. Everything about this girl had changed Mozzi, down to his fucking nervous system she had somehow stabilized.
A lot of people didn’t know he used to be anxious and suffered different bouts of depression over the course of his life.
It wasn’t just when he was trapped in bed all day and didn’t move.
For him it was being reckless, like building hopping, or doing target practice with plates off the roof of his condo.
Partying 24/7 and staying up days at a time, sometimes hopping flights to different cities with Lin and Gill.
For years he thought he was just a fire wire, but it turned out being bipolar was his curse.
There was no telling if it was inherited from Elaine or his bitch ass absent father.
All he knew was Coast grounded him a way no drug could.
“I’ll see you in a few.”
“Okay.” Mozzi ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket. “Aight, so Ayla and Inari are flying out with us. I need you two muhfuckas to get your shit together.”
“The fuck you talking about?” A tight grimace crowded Moose’s face. “I’m good.”
“Nigga, far from that shit. You been walking around this muhfucka in your feelings since Inari cut you off,” Mozzi cracked. “Right along with this nigga marrying Miss Scatterbrain.”
Kong cut a dark glare in his direction while sealing the blunt closed with his mouth.
“I’m just saying. Tell me I’m wrong.”
“I’m telling you to mind your own fucking business. You want to marry Coast, do that, but don’t be analyzing my shit.” Kong finished with the blunt and stood tall.
Mozzi had clearly pressed a button because he was suddenly tight.
Moose was even surprised, lifting both of his brows.
Their big brother wasn’t in the mood. He yanked the driver’s door open for the Hummer and climbed inside.
Sliding off the back of the truck, Moose closed the hatch and dabbed Mozzi up.
“You know how that nigga is.” Moose backed up so he could get in the passenger seat.
The two of them were heading in the opposite direction of Mozzi and the estate.
“I ain’t worried about him. Tell that nigga smile or something once in a while. Nay must not be fucking him right, cause the key to being married is being happy, nigga!” Mozzi spoke loud enough for Kong to hear, but knew better than to get in his face right now.
They called him Kong over Kostner for a fucking reason. When he went into beast mode, nobody was safe. His big bro backed out without uttering another word to Mozzi when he pulled off. He’d heard him.
“And where the fuck were you tonight?” Donahue roared in Sipes’ face.
Standing in front of him inside his extravagant home, head low in shame, his heart rattled against his ribcage.
Word spread fast that Nickel, two of his boys, and Lin were all deceased.
Sipes had been distracted ever since taking that DNA test. Part of him wasn’t sure what to think about that.
He mostly wanted that baby to be his, though.
With all the bullshit he’d done in the streets, and feeling like a failure most of his life, this baby would be a fresh start for him in many ways.
He was hopeful about it, and at the same time plotting on getting both Coast and his child out of Mozzi Blackmoor’s clutches.
He didn’t know how or when it happened, but thinking about that nigga raising his child triggered rage inside him.
Nickel hated him ever since he was a kid.
“I was taking care of some other shit,” Sipes muttered. “I was supposed to meet Nickel at the club, but I got caught up.”
The truth was, he’d been fucking Arwen through the mattress.
He heard his phone going off, and by the time they were done, he had several missed calls and messages from Nickel asking him where he was.
He’d even sent pictures of Coast in the club showing the fuck out and all up on Mozzi.
By the time he got to the scene Nickel and his crew had left.
Sipes intended to catch up to them, but by that time, he was receiving word that they were all dead.
“You got caught up?” Donahue repeated, thick brows drawing together as his jaw locked in anger.
Nickel was like family. He’d practically raised the nigga after he got emancipated.
He brought him into this life, and now he was gone.
Like so many others. Donahue was growing fed up with the Blackmoors and everything they stood for.
It was one thing when they robbed him, securing a lot of leverage he held over city officials, law enforcement, and politicians.
Then an entire shipment was lost on the street when their truck tipped over, and another was stolen and rerouted into Blackmoor territory.
These motherfuckers were becoming a pain in his ass.
“Let me guess, with some bitch!” Donahue spat, venom bouncing around his coal black orbs.
He knew Sipes, and like most niggas his age getting money, he was only worried about getting more money so he could get pussy.
He and Nickel were both underdogs coming up.
Girls called them dusty or made fun of them because they didn’t have the fly clothes.
So, naturally, the minute they got some money, it was all about seeing which bitches would fuck with them.
He’d known their whole friendship that Mozzi was a soft spot for Nickel.
He hated that nigga for reasons unknown for a long time.
One night after Sipes had partied with Nickel and Lin, his boy was drunk and going on and on about Mozzi.
He finally admitted to knowing him in the group home.
Mozzi never acted like he remembered him, but he treated him like a hoe.
He made fun of him and talked shit, even calling him by his government name, which Nickel hated.
The irony now that he was gone was Sipes had inherited him as an enemy.
“What happened?” Sipes changed the subject.
Donahue grilled him before taking a few steps back.
Two of his trusted guards were in the room, each holding down one side of the entryway from the foyer.
Donahue was flashy and lived like a king.
Everything in his house was big, extravagant, and dipped in gold, whether it was the legs to the tables or sofa, picture frames, or other art pieces lined neatly on the shelves.
He figured he’d worked hard all these years and wanted to have something to show for it.
His marble floors gleamed so immaculately that you could eat off them.
“What happened?” Donahue repeated, shaking his head. “If you’d been there, you would know, muthafucka!”
“Well, what you want me to do? How should I handle this?”
“You need me to tell you how to do your fucking job?” Donahue growled. “Fire is dead. Nickel is dead. What’s the connection? Because this ain’t some random coincidence.”
The front door to his home slammed shut, and a familiar click clack of heels against the floor moved in their direction. Shalice, Sipes’ sister, rushed inside, tan trenchcoat flapping behind her as she dropped her work bag on a nearby chair.
“I heard what happened.” Sympathy filled her eyes when she approached her brother and brought him in for a hug.
Shalice was six years older than Sipes and had to raise him when their father killed their mother and went to prison.
As one of the top defense attorneys in the state, she’d worked hard to build a life and protect her brother at the same time.
It wasn’t always easy working on opposite sides of the law, but she made sure to look out for him.
Sipes got spoiled in a lot of ways because Shalice would go above and beyond for him, even if he was guilty.
She was so good at what she did, though, that getting him off was usually effortless.
“I’m sorry.” She gripped Sipes’ face and kissed his forehead like she often did when he was little.
Nickel and Fire were his best friends, and now they were both dead. Sometimes she lay awake at night wondering when it would be her brother. She hated to think like that, but that’s what came with the territory in the life he led.
“That’s what’s wrong with him.” Donahue lifted his glass filled with bourbon and swallowed. “You keep pacifying his grown ass.”
Shalice shot a glare at him over her shoulder but quickly turned back to her brother.
“Those were your brothers in every way. I might not agree with what any of you do, but I know you loved them, and they were always there for you.” She gripped his chin.
Sipes sucked it up, taking in a few breaths before pinching the bridge of his nose and nodding to himself.
“I’mma hit the block. See what I can find out. Then deal with this Mozzi situation.”
“Okay.” Shalice forced a tight smile on her face as Sipes bypassed her to the door.
Once he was gone, she spun to face her lover, arms tucked across her double Ds as he stared back at her.
“You could have been a little nicer,” she chastised.
“Fuck that! That’s two of my soldiers! My best at that! Now I have to realign my whole fucking crew, and I’m not putting Sipes in that position. He’s too emotional, and I don’t like that shit.”
Sighing, Shalice sauntered in his direction, stopping beside him at the bar set up. He was tense, his deep onyx eyes staring off before he grabbed a cigar from an ashtray and brought it to his lips. Grabbing his mini torch, he sparked the tip and took a deep pull.
“Sipes just lost two of the most important people in his life, Carl. Give him a little grace.”
“Grace?” Donahue spat. “If he was where he was supposed to be, this probably wouldn’t have fucking happened.
He’s talking about figuring out what happened when I already fucking know!
” He slammed his glass on the counter. “This was Blackmoor. They’ve been fucking with my organization for months!
Starting with that heist at the Bell tower.
Riddle’s shipment on Dunbar Avenue. On top of that, them muthafuckas shot at me, and Mozzi survived the attempt on his life. ”
“It sounds like you might need to get a little more strategic.” Shalice reached for an empty glass and the decanter with gin inside it.
“And what do you suggest I do?” Donahue rebutted. “These muthafuckas are dismantling me from the inside. For the last six months, all I’ve been doing is taking Ls.”
“You need to make a statement.” Shalice poured herself a shot.
It’d been a long day in the office. When she wasn’t defending all the lowlifes between Kansas City and Ree Heights, she was helping Donahue with his business matters.
Carl met her when she was up and coming.
Shalice defended a lot of the men on his crew and got them off, leaving him very impressed with her skills.
So much so that he retained her for himself, and eventually the two of them ended up in a sexual relationship.
“Mozzi Blackmoor isn’t the head of the organization.”
“I already went at Kong and threatened that bitch he was fucking with. He went and married that hoe Phoebe’s daughter.”
“You’re thinking small, baby.” Shalice stroked the collar to his powder blue button up shirt. “Audiemar is still in charge. He’s the top dog. Without him, that organization is immediately weakened. What is it they say? Hit the biggest nigga first and make the rest sit down. What is his weakness?”
“It was Jane. He hasn’t been the same since she died, though.”
“How did she die again?”
“Lots of speculation on that.” Donahue pulled from the cigar and exhaled. “A lot of people think that bullet was meant for him.”
“Hmm.” Shalice pondered on that while bringing her glass to her lips.
“Well, I guess I can make a few inquiries and see how accurate that is. In the meantime, maybe you need to sit down with Riddle and figure out how to get your hands on those hard drives and ledgers before the Blackmoors use it to their advantage.”
Donahue’s cell phone vibrated against the glass top of the bar.
Staring down at the notification, he saw that an email had come through on a property he was waiting to secure.
It was a riverfront building that could be turned into a shopping and condo district that would become a multi-million-dollar investment. He was notified that he’d been outbid.
“Son-of-a-bitch!” he barked, startling Shalice.
“What happened?” she asked, peering over his shoulder.
“The property Callahan assured me was pretty much a done deal was just sold.”
“How did that happen?” Shalice’s brow furrowed and Donahue peered up from his phone at her.
“I had leverage against him.”
“Leverage in the Bell tower?” Shalice pondered, locking eyes with Donahue.
“Audiemar,” he mumbled, shaking his head before hurling his glass across the room.