Chapter 2 #2
Straightening the sleeves of his suit jacket, Ace spoke to Tyrell who laid barely conscious clutching his mangled hand. “I want my money in 24 hours or you won’t have to worry about those fingers because you’ll have a bullet in your fat ass skull,” he said.
He looked to Tyrell’s friends who sat by with horror stricken expressions. “Get him the fuck out of my face,” he ordered through gritted teeth.
The men quickly and wordlessly helped their friend off the floor, dragging him to the exit.
As he exited the section, Ace rotated his shoulders to relieve some of the tension that still sat there.
He hadn’t gotten his hands dirty in a minute and like an addict, once he got started, it was hard to stop.
He accepted the damp towel that Jrue extended, using it to wipe the blood from his knuckles and face.
“Feel better, Menace?” Jrue asked, with a mocking smile as he clapped Ace on the shoulder, jokingly referring to him by his full nickname.
Ace chuckled. His nickname had come from a shortened version of Menace. From a young age, it was clear to all of the men in the family that he would be the ruthless heir to their family business they’d all hoped for.
“That boy gon’ be a Menace,” they’d said whenever he passed the lessons in his training with flying colors, sometimes doing more than necessary.
His mother didn’t take too kindly to that name. “Don’t be calling my baby no Menace. I don’t even want y’all to speak that over him,” she’d said. So they’d shortened it to Ace.
Unfortunately for her, refraining from speaking danger and destruction over her son hadn’t stopped a damn thing.
He was every bit the Menace they called him.
“I’m straight,” Ace replied. He pulled the sleeves of his suit jacket over the cuff of his pale blue dress shirt that held small smatterings of Tyrell’s blood. “I’ll see y’all boys later. I have court in an hour.”
As the judge readied to give his ruling, Ace side eyed the prosecution.
The new pale skinned Assistant District Attorney across the aisle walked into the courtroom as the ones before him had — with slicked back hair, a cocky smile, and the misguided assumption that this would be the day he became a hero.
Now, the man was sweating bullets and his perfectly coiffed hair was tousled from running his hands through it.
He looked like he’d gone 10 rounds in the ring, and in a way, he had.
Ace spent two hours playing with his food, objecting and interrupting until the kid was disgruntled and poking so many holes in his case it wouldn’t hold water let alone a conviction.
At this point, it was a hazing ritual to let Ace beat up on new prosecutors and by closing statements, ADA Michael Thomas had been informed all too late that he’d stepped into the ring with the heavyweight champ.
Ace chuckled and shook his head.
For years, prosecutors had come after Ace and his family’s clients thinking they would make a name for themselves off the backs of young Black attorneys representing known criminals. They all soon learned that the Kings didn’t go down easy and they didn’t fight fair.
Thomas looked Ace’s way and when their eyes met, he winked, twisting the knife.
The man huffed and quickly looked away. They both knew what the verdict would be before the judge even opened his mouth.
“After hearing arguments from both sides and reviewing the evidence presented to the court, I am ruling to drop the charges against the defendant and dismiss this case,” Judge Holcomb announced, banging his gavel to punctuate the ruling.
Beside him, Ace’s client released a sigh, his whole body slumping in relief.
“Thank you man. Thank you,” Keyshawn expressed his gratitude as they dapped.
“You know I got you,” Ace whispered back before straightening his suit jacket to cover the droplets of blood and turning to face the judge. He felt Thomas’ eyes staring holes into the side of his face as the judge gave his final remarks and instructions regarding his ruling.
Once court was adjourned and they were dismissed, Ace saw Keyshawn off then pulled his phone out of his Louis Vuitton briefcase to check for messages he missed during the hearing.
He felt a pair of eyes on him and looked up to find Detective Mark Harris standing on the steps of the courthouse watching Ace with a red faced scowl. Thomas stood beside him, arms folded like a child who’d gone crying to the teacher.
Ace took personal pleasure in the furious expression on the detective’s face. Harris had a vendetta against the King family for reasons unknown to Ace. For years, he’d led the witch hunt against Ace’s family when much of the city had long since fallen in line.
Harris seemed intent on putting the Kings and their soldiers behind bars, so Ace took pride in each case he was able to close in their favor.
“Have a good weekend,” Ace smiled as he passed them, making his way to the blacked out SUV waiting for him at the curb. Ray stood leaning against it with his hands in his pockets. Though his eyes were covered with dark shades, Ace knew his eyes were moving, surveying the surroundings for a threat.
“Cut the crap, King. You people won’t keep getting away with this,” Harris snarled.
Ace’s steps faltered and he pivoted, turning to face the man. “Excuse me?” he asked, stepping closer.
Harris’ eyes widened slightly, having enough sense to realize his mistake but to his credit, he kept going. “The people you represent are criminals and so are you. I know it. You know it, and Judge Holcomb knows it too. You probably bribed him like you do everyone else.”
“Bribe?” Ace laughed in his face. “I’m sure Judge Holcomb would love to know you think so little of his integrity.”
“Your clients and your whole thug family have been getting away with this shit for too long. I look forward to the day I can personally lock your ass up and throw away the key.”
From the way the man’s face paled, Ace was sure the mocking smile he was sporting had morphed into a sinister scowl.
Detective Harris had been a thorn in his family’s side for years but he’d hidden behind bogus arrests and brutal interrogation of his men.
Ace wasn’t sure what brought about this sudden boldness but he needed to nip it in the bud.
He took another step until the tips of their shoes damn near touched.
Leaning down, he spoke low into Harris’ ear. “I don’t take too kindly to threats and neither does my family. If you’re gonna take shots at the Kings you better have a full clip and you better not miss.” He straightened and patted the man on the shoulder. “Have a good evening, Detective.”
Turning, he headed in the direction of his awaiting car then doubled back once more.
“Oh and congratulations to you and the Mrs. on the new baby boy. I’ll have my assistant send you a gift,” he called over his shoulder.
“Still live in that cute blue house over in Millburn, Jersey?” The look of fear and confusion that crossed over Harris’ face would fuel Ace for the rest of the weekend.
With a grin, Ace continued down the steps of the courthouse to his car without a second glance.
“Wassup Ray,” Ace greeted as he slipped into the backseat.
“Wassup Boss,” Ray returned.
Ace loosened the tie at his neck, bracing himself for his final obligation of the day.