Chapter 33 #3
“You want a cookie?” She rolled her eyes. “Or better yet, you think he deserves one?” She smiled, and her bottom lip split open.
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. I used Yale’s ponytail holder, which I always wore around my wrist, to tie my hair up. “I want my pound of fucking flesh.”
“Get it,” she said, shrugging. I knew her shoulders had to hurt from being tied up for so long, but she didn’t look like she cared. “Aint shit you can do to me that hasn’t already been done.”
I sat in the chair across from her and watched her. Ta’lon had the same empty look in her eyes that Shelly had when I helped her at the hotel. I sat forward, resting my elbows on my legs, and dropped my head. “Them niggas did a number on y’all, huh?” I asked with a humorless laugh.
“Who?”
“The Kilmores,” I answered and lifted my head.
Ta’lon was watching me hard, and I could tell what I said was true.
“That nigga Quincy fucked up your mental that bad? How old were you when you married him? Sixteen? You were a fucking baby, didn’t know shit about life, and he was what?
Twenty?” I nodded, then sat back. “You were a fucking victim. I get that, I do, but tell me how the fuck did you get mixed up with my brother if you were his wife?”
“Business,” she spat, and I lifted my brow. “I was a fucking business deal to him. Our daddies grew up together, spent money together, built empires together.” She laughed and shook her head. “I started fucking around with Quincy because I wanted the power, and I had a pussy.”
“So, you were using that nigga?” I asked, surprised, why she was freely giving information like that. But there was nothing like a woman scorned, so I was going to sit, ask questions, and collect all the information I could.
“Or so I thought.” She licked her lips. “That nigga had other plans.”
“You married him, so was that your idea or his?”
“His daddy,” she answered quickly. “I told him I was pregnant; his daddy couldn’t let his son walk around looking like a deadbeat, so he married me.” She started to laugh, then suddenly stopped. “Then he beat the baby out of me.”
“Why stay with him after that?” I crossed my ankles and put my hands in my lap. “You were free.”
“You’re never free from the Kilmores,” she snorted in disbelief. “You only go free once they have no use for you.”
“Yale’s free,” I replied, and she smirked like she knew a secret I didn’t.
“You think so?” she asked with a smile. “You think for one second that Quincy doesn’t know where she is? That he hasn’t been watching her for the last month and a half, just biding his time before he snatches her up and makes her life a living hell?”
“He can’t touch her.”
“He can!” she yelled. Her body shook so hard that the chains that were holding her arms rattled. “He can and he will as soon as he gets the green light! He’s going to snatch her up because he fucking can, and they want to see everybody connected to y’all suffer.”
“Why?” I was holding on to my temper by a fucking thread, but I knew I had to keep my cool.
The thought of Quincy getting to Yale was never the endgame for me.
I wanted her safe until I could do what the fuck I needed to do, and that was kill whoever the fuck was Grant’s boss.
Now it looked like somebody was pulling Quincy’s strings, too.
“Collateral damage,” she answered with a laugh. “Your involvement was because niggas couldn’t mind their fucking business. And by niggas, I mean you. If you had never fallen for Yale, you wouldn’t be involved.”
“The fuck does Yale have to do with this?” I stood. “And don’t tell me it’s because of that fucking accident that involved Xavier, because that shit was in motion well before I was involved. Grant set that shit.”
“No, he didn’t,” she lazily sang. “He was just the fall boy.”
“Fall boy for who?”
“Think, Amethyst,” she taunted me. “Who has been at the center of all this? Who has moved through rooms unnoticed. Made business moves with all cash and no credit?”
The warehouse door opened, and Xia walked into the room. She looked from me to Ta’lon, then stepped aside.
“I was wondering when you were going to show up,” Ta’lon laughed, then slowly lowered off her tippy toes to let her arms bear her weight. “I knew they were going to send you in there the moment I was dropped on that hard ass concrete floor.”
Corinthians walked into the room; her straight razor moved through her fingers with finesse.
Her steps were smooth, almost like she walked on air.
Shoulder square, head held high, eyes full of fire.
There were times I forgot that she was a DeCorte and what she was capable of because she hardly ever stepped into this role.
But now, seeing her, knowing that her switch had flipped and she was in killer mode, made me appreciate the luxury of forgetting.
Each of the DeCortes had a way with killing.
The men were quick, in and out, while the women were calculated and almost barbaric with their tactics.
They thought over their torture methods and studied the person they were going to kill.
They turned off their humanity each time and felt no remorse for the person they were dealing with.
“Tell them what they want to know, Ta’lon,” Corinthians said as she approached her. “If you do, I’ll make this quick. No pain.”
“You know better than that,” Ta’lon replied. “I’d rather die by your hands than answer anything. So, kill me.”
“If I kill her, whatever you want to know dies with her,” Corinthians said, looking at me.
“Will she talk?” I asked her even though I knew the answer already. Ta’lon was only going to tell me so much before she started talking in circles. If I wanted answers, I was going to have to go after Quincy.
“No,” Corinthians answered. “What she said was the most you’d ever get out of her.”
“Why?”
Corinthians made quick work of slicing Ta’lon’s throat. She didn’t hesitate or look as if she regretted it. She pulled Ta’lon’s head back; her actions opened her wound, and Corinthians put her hand into the opening and pulled out her hyoid bone, leaving it hanging.
“Mondai and Morning are working their magic and getting your paperwork pushed through the system. Give them a few days, and they should be in contact about Xaire,” I said to Xia.
“They have until tonight, or that little boy will magically be discharged from the hospital, and there will be no records of him ever being there,” she said, then walked out of the room.
I walked to my car, not giving a fuck about the rain beating down on me. I needed to get word to Morning that Xia was about to flex her fucking power before she did it. After I unlocked my car, got in, and started it, I waited for the phone to connect to Bluetooth.
“Yeah?” Morning answered.
“Where are you?” I put my car in drive and headed toward the highway. The warehouse was off in the cuts, damn near twenty minutes from the highway in the middle of nowhere.
“On my way back to my office,” he replied. “What do you need?” I explained to him what happened at the warehouse and Xia’s parting words. “I figured her patience was thin. Xaire is already being processed in the system; her pulling strings isn’t going to work in her favor.”
“This is Xia St. Thomas we are talking about,” I said as I turned onto another dirt road.
“She will kill anybody who gets in her fucking way before she lets Xaire stay another night in that hospital. I can only hope that Xayne can calm her down, but that nigga is damn near at her level of anger right now.”
“Where the fuck is Xion since he’s the fucking cause of this damn shit?” Morning questioned.
“No clue,” I replied, then kissed my teeth. “Nobody has seen him since he left the hotel.”
“That nigga is on my list,” he grunted. “Xia and Xayne better have a good fucking life insurance policy on that nigga because when I get my hands on him, I’ma do him in like they should have years ago.”
“Ain’t no doubt that they are going to drag him,” I laughed as I drove. “They are splitting their time right now between making sure Xoey is good and Xaire. I doubt Xia’s had more than an hour of sleep each night.”
“I can’t believe that nigga sent her after Ta’lon,” he grunted. “Like, nigga, you hated your seed that much that you sent your sister after your baby mama because she wanted you to take him? That nigga is weak.”
“Which is why he’s hiding,” I agreed. “When they get their hands on him, it’s going to be hell.”
“I hope the devil gets one of his weakest soldiers back.”
“Nigga, what?” I laughed. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“You know how when folks die, their family always wants to say they are going to heaven?” he questioned. “Well, I don’t believe in lying to niggas like that. Every nigga doesn’t go to heaven. Most of them go to hell. So I always say that the devil is getting one of his weak ass soldiers back.”
“Nigga, I have never heard no shit like that before in my life,” I laughed and shook my head. “I swear you say the craziest shit.”
“Nah, you just don’t be listening to shit folks say,” he countered. “Now, back to the reason you called. Xia wants Xaire.”
“By tonight,” I interjected.
“Alright, let me call Mon and see what else she needs me to do. I can call in a few favors if need be.”
“I appreciate it,” I said as I wiped my hand over my mouth.
“It’s nothing. You already know how I get down over Xoey, so I’m going to always try to come through with what they need,” he replied. “I’ll call you once I have everything together.”
“Bet,” I said, then hung up.
I steered my car onto the highway and turned on cruise control. The drive to my house was another thirty minutes. I swiped through my call log, pulled up Tulane’s number, and pressed send.
“Stone,” he answered with a grunt. “I called you two hours ago.”
“I was busy,” I replied. “And stop clocking my shit like you’re my woman.”
“I was calling about your woman,” he said, and I sat up in my seat. “She’s been asking to come back to the town. She wants to talk to St. Thomas.”
“Nah,” I denied, shaking my head. “They got their own shit going on. Tell her to hold off.”
“Hold off?” he chuckled. “I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“Make it happen, Tulane,” I replied. “I got some shit going on here that I need to handle. Her reaching out to the St. Thomas isn't going to fly right now.”
“You tell her that then.”
“I fucking can't!” I yelled, and my grip on my steering wheel tightened. Ta’lon saying that Quincy knew where Yale was echoed through my mind. I didn’t know whether she was lying, but I couldn’t take the chance. Hell, even talking to Tulane right now was fucking with me.
“Amethyst--”
“I don’t want to hear shit you have to say, Tulane. I need you to keep my woman safe, make sure she keeps her head down, and keep her focused on something. Have her make some jewelry. I know her inbox is flooded with requests right now. Get her working to take her mind off this other shit.”
“That probably won’t work,” he sighed.
“It will, I know Yale better than anyone else. She will get lost in those damn diamonds, and the rest of this shit will be background noise.”
“It won’t work because you never gave me the fucking case with the diamonds,” he grunted. “You said you would ship them and haven’t.”
“Fuck!” I hit the steering wheel. “Alright, let me get to the house, and then I’ll get them and send them to you.
They’ll be at your house by the end of the week.
” I hung up the phone, then tapped the brakes to release the cruise control.
I pressed down on the gas to speed up and switch lanes.
A white Charger pulled up beside me and stayed at my side, like they knew me.
I couldn’t tell who it was because the tint was blacked out.
They rode with me until I got to my exit, then sped off.