Chapter 21 #4
“Oh hell, what are you about to do?” I heard Pyrite ask me, but I wasn’t about to explain shit, he’d see.
I let Grant go, and he dropped to the ground, barely conscious. I grabbed his upper eyelid and cut it off. He immediately shot up and screamed because of the pain, but I was in my zone. I moved on to his other eye and repeated the same process on the upper lid.
“I said eyes open,” I said, staring down at him.
“Oh, that’s nasty,” Citrine grunted. “I’m not going to sleep for a week after seeing that.”
I turned my attention to my brothers to see Citrine with a look of disgust, and Pyrite had the audacity to look bored. I lifted my brow, and he shrugged.
“I expected more,” he said, answering my unspoken question. “That’s not enough.”
“Noted.” I nodded, then turned back to Grant. I moved his hand from his left eye and slowly pushed my thumb into his eye, hooked it, and pulled back. His eye came out with little to no resistance, and I held my thumb up for Pyrite. “That better?” Grant passed out from the pain.
“Yeah,” he said, slowly nodding. “I like that.”
“Me too,” I agreed. I stood, pulled his eyeball from my thumb, and examined it. “You know you can go if you need to.”
“Not if you’re still moving, I’m not,” he said, shaking his head. I put my hands in my pockets and waited because I knew that nigga was going to say no. “Pop would lose his shit if I walked out now.”
“I got it.”
“I know, and low-key, a nigga is proud.” Pyrite nodded.
“Proud?” I questioned. “For what?”
“Letting that freak flag fly,” he answered as he walked around the room we were in. The DeCortes, having their own torture warehouse, always came in handy. “It’s usually Citrine and me showing out. But to see you doing it?” He smiled proudly. “I feel like a proud daddy or something.”
“Nigga, you’re off.” I pulled my hands from my pockets, and with my empty hand, I grabbed Grant by the collar and dragged him to the front door. “This fat bitch.”
“I would offer to help, but his blood is everywhere and shit,” Citrine said with a disgusted expression.
I chuckled, nodded, then patted him on the chest with the hand I used to crush Grant’s eyeball. “I understand, big bro,” I chuckled, then walked out of the center of the room and hooked him up to a chain by his wrist.
“Amethyst!” Citrine yelled. “My nigga, is this his eyeball?”
“Yep.” I nodded as I pressed the control panel, and Grant lifted from the ground.
“My nigga!” Citrine looked down at his shirt, then back up at me, and I smirked. He was going to give my ass hell for the next few weeks, but I didn’t care.
“Let me go,” Grant groaned as I walked around him.
I’d spent nearly four hours working on his eye socket because I needed to question him.
If it were any other day or time, I would’ve let him bleed out and die without a care, but I couldn’t.
I needed answers, and he was the only person who could give them to me. “I won't tell Quincy it was you.”
“I don’t give a fuck what Quincy knows,” I replied as I looked over my scalpels, trying to decide which one I wanted to use. “That nigga doesn’t put fear in my heart.”
“He’ll come after Yale if I don’t check in tomorrow,” Grant cried. “That’s always been the plan. From jump, we had a game plan.”
“Nigga, what?” I stopped moving and turned my attention to him. “That’s what y’all decided to do? Y’all already fucking had her!”
“She was how we controlled you,” he coughed. “We knew that if we had her, you wouldn’t fucking move. If I die, he moves.” Grant moved his head side to side, and he groaned in pain again. “She won’t survive twenty-four hours. Because she controlled you!”
“You said that already!” I yelled. “Tell me why you needed to control me!”
“Because then nobody would see the bigger picture.”
“Which is?”
“Ask who the woman in the car was,” Grant laughed, shaking his head. “Ask me that, Amethyst.”
“Who was the woman in the car?”
“Her sister,” Grant laughed. “Xavier was the woman in the car.”
“Nigga, Tulane has four daughters,” I said, shaking my head.
“He had five,” Grant coughed. “Now it’s four.”
“So y’all killed her? And blamed her death on her sister?” I was confused as fuck. “Why?” Tulane had reach but to go this far with covering up the death of a child proved how much he had. They’d rather hide that shit than deal with his wrath.
“You never asked who her mama was,” Grant said. “Ask that shit.”
“Who’s her mama?”
“Xierra St. Thomas,” Grant coughed. “Xavier is a St. Thomas.” Pyrite made a grunting noise, and my face twisted in confusion. Hearing that last name threw me completely off.
I exchanged looks with my brothers, and we stepped out of the room. I left Grant hanging in the middle of the room, making sure to close the door behind me. The sounds of his brothers’ screams echoed through the warehouse. Uri was working.
“Did you know about this?” I asked Pyrite. Pyrite was close to Xoey because of how they met. “Did you know that Xoey had a cousin?”
“Yeah, she told me when we were committed. It was one of the reasons she was there; she was trying to get information from Xavier’s ex-boyfriend.”
“Her ex was committed, too?” Citrine asked as he ran his hand over his hair.
“No, Xoey broke into his house and tortured him,” Pyrite denied and leaned against the wall.
“She let herself get caught to send a message to his family and to show Xavier that she was looking for her. She and Xoey were close, having basically grown up together after her mother left. Xia said her niece and nephew wouldn’t go into the system, and they didn’t. ”
“Nigga, do you know how bad this is going to be?” Citrine asked. “Xoey ain’t gonna listen to shit you have to say about Yale not being responsible for Xavier’s death.”
“Xoey, we can handle; it’s Xavier’s brother that’s going to be a problem.”
“Mirror?” Pyrite asked. “Fuck!”
“Wait, Xavier is the sister he’s been looking for all these years?” Citrine was putting two and two together, and all I could do was nod. This shit was going to be a big ass problem.
“Yeah,” I answered as I ran my hand over my face. “Fuck!”
“You thought you were in charge, Amethyst!” Grant yelled, and I turned to look at the door. “You thought your fucking family was untouchable, and the truth is y’all don’t run shit! My boss runs it all!”
“Boss?” I pushed open the door and stared at Grant. “You mean your brother?”
“Nah, I love Quincy, but that nigga ain’t in charge like that.
He’s an errand boy for our daddy. My boss, the nigga that’s running all of this,” he laughed as he swayed.
“I already know I’m not getting out of here alive, so I may as well tell you what you want to know.
” He smiled and dropped his head. “My boss wants all you niggas dead. Shit ain’t what it seems and y’all loyalty is about to be tested.
” Grant lifted his head and smiled proudly.
“Somebody on y’all team ain’t what they seem and the secrets y’all keep close to the vest are about to be exposed. ”