“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. When Tera scoffs, throwing back the rest of her Patrón, I shove down my own burst of anger. “Shit, I’m telling the truth. I don’t know. Maybe I thought by sparing him, I would make him owe me, and I’d have a favor from the Huntsman.”Lie.Not shooting him in the face was so much more complicated than that. So much more… primal andrawthan that. “But that came back to bite me in the ass when he showed up at my house and we fucked up my den fighting. Now he just wants to kill me and Abena. Because that stupid bitchthought it was a great idea to try and murder him for failing to complete the hit.”
I still have to shake my head at the gotdamnaudacityof that shit. If the move weren’t so blatantly suicidal, I might applaud her pluck.
“Hol’ up, hol’ up.” Maura stands, waving both hands in front of her face. “Let me get this straight. After you give this mu’fucka a Get Outta Hell Free card, instead of being grateful, he reallydidcome back around and try to kill you? I mean, I know that’s the assassin’s creed or some shit, but yo, that’s ungrateful as fuck. And that’safterAbena does a double cross and comes for his head? I hope he didn’t give that ho her money back,” she grumbles.
“Yep, that about covers it.”
I’m glad she agrees with me that Malachi is being pretty unreasonable and ungrateful, too.
Tuh.Men.
“So how did you really get his balaclava?” Doc asks. “Come on and spill it. No more of that ‘have your ways’ bullshit.”
I grin. “A little B and E. Since Abena broke into his place earlier, I doubted he would return to it. So I figured it was safe to get in there, borrow one of his hoods, and use it to shore up my story about killing him.”
“I’m still confused as fuck why you didn’t actually kill him. Especially since that means you now have to worry about two targets on your back,” Nef quietly says. “But I also have to say, taking that balaclava was genius. She might know he’s not dead, but she can’t contradict you without saying how she knows. And now word’s spreading through not just the Mwuaji but other families about how you took down the Huntsman, making you a living legend. Abena fucked herself.”
Yeah, she did. In more ways than one.
If Abena believes I didn’t get the mental brutality she tried to inflict when she sent Malachi after me… She took my kidnapping, one of the most traumatizing and triggering events of mylife, and attempted to send me spiraling back there before having my life taken.
Earlier, I said she wasn’t one of the most dangerous people in the room.
I revise my opinion.
Because that capacity for sadism shouldn’t be underestimated.
That she would seek to do that to me when it was her fucking incompetence and carelessness that allowed me to be kidnapped in the first place nine years ago… Ma had entrusted Abena with my detail, as the family’s security had fallen under my aunt’s responsibilities at the time. Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have needed more than one or two guards, but since I was on my way to a concert, Ma ordered more security. But Abena forgot to arrange it. And I, being an impatient teenager concerned only with shaking my ass in front of one of my favorite artists, left, giving my guards no choice but to follow me. And I was taken as soon as I hit Boston city limits.
For two weeks, I was starved, beaten, tortured while my mother hunted my captors down. Even as traumatized as I was after my rescue, I didn’t miss the coldness between Ma and Abena. A part of me always wondered if one of the reasons Abena had my mother murdered was fear of Ma striking against her first because she blamed her sister’s neglect for my kidnapping.
In the end, the why doesn’t matter.
The only thing that does is my mother’s death and her blood that coats Abena’s hands.
“You do know your aunt’s going to come for you again, right? She’ll have to be sneakier about it since two attempts on your life so close together will be suspect as hell. But she’s not going to stop,” Penn points out.
“Penn’s right.” Tera picks up her glass again and squints at me. “Listen, we’ve been moving in the shadows for the last two years, slowly and quietly bringing more people to our side, forming alliances. And shit, truth be told, Abena has been doingmost of the heavy lifting for us. People are tired of her digging too deep in their pockets, taking a higher percentage of their shit. She’s getting richer just sitting on her royal ass while everyone under her is doing all the actual work, taking all the risk. But, shit, we could still argue that’s what you do for family. But what you don’t do is fuck family over. Promote those who kiss your ass, curry your favor, while stealing and doing dirty those who are earners, those who prove their loyalty. Those who would lay down—and have laid down—their lives for blood before belief. Those who get sent up, never turn, and when they come back out, don’t receive recognition for their sacrifice, much less a fucking penny for them or their families.”
Tera surges to her feet, her glass still clutched in her hand. She stalks across the floor toward the built-in bar, and with stiff, jerky movements unlike her usual fluid, menacing grace, she splashes more alcohol into the tumbler. We silently watch her, not needing to peek into her head or those bottomless black eyes to comprehend she’s thinking about her own family.
Park Washington went away for first-degree murder when Tera was seventeen. He’d been one of the most feared and prolific enforcers for the family, and Tera’s father, whom she loved with all the worship saved for superheroes and Prince. This was a hit Park hadn’t committed, and the cops knew they didn’t have shit on him, but since Park wouldn’t turn, they sent him away for the murder anyway.
All he asked was that Abena take care of his wife and kids. Of course, she assured him she would… and that promise lasted as long as it took for the gavel to land, pronouncing him guilty. He’d been sentenced to life without parole, and all the income that should’ve been going to Tera’s mother and family laced Abena’s pockets. In her words, there were no free rides. That’s when Tera jumped off the porch, following in her father’s footsteps. We’d been best friends long before then, but to provide for her family, she came to work for me. As her best friend, I know Tera once had dreams that didn’t include… this. She’s fucking goodat it. One of the best. But her father wanted more. Hadn’t wanted blood on his baby girl’s hands. At the time of her father’s trial, she held an early acceptance letter to Yale, where she intended to major in history education.
History education.
Abena had a lot of shit to answer for.
Family was the core of who we were. It made us more than an organization or a gang. It waseverything. And Abena was fracturing us from the inside out.
“She’s going to pay, Tera,” I murmur, studying her stiff shoulders. “Her attempt on me speeds up the timeline and places us in a better position. Abena is smart, but she’s also sloppy, arrogant. She’s gotten comfortable and believes she’s above the law of her own family. No one is. Doc, where are we with Richter and Moorehead?” I ask, mentioning the two kapteni with territories in Buffalo, New York, and Niagara Falls.
“They sent word while you were at the cottage. Off the strength of your mother, they’re with us.”
I nod, not tripping.
The two OGs have been around, ruling their areas, since Ma’s time. Backing me out of respect for her name and memory is one of the highest forms of regard they could give me. Though I’ve been pulling my weight for the Mwuaji, making my mark, once I’m oba, it will be up to me to prove they’ve made the right choice in indulging in something as dangerous and risky as treason.
