“And you’re just saying something?” I said, looking at her. Yale nodded, and it took everything in me not to lose my temper. Now I was mad at her. “You’ve been covering up this shit for a week?”
“Yes.” she nodded.
“Why?” I wiped the makeup from her neck, and the more I cleaned, the angrier I got. She was fucked up, and when I touched one of the bruises, she winced in pain. “Why the fuck didn’t you say something before?”
“Because,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I-”
“Yale,” I said her name calmly, and her eyes immediately met mine. “Now ain’t the time to try and pull some bullshit out of the air. Tell me the truth, why the fuck didn’t you say something before now?”
“Because I was scared.”
“You were scared,” I repeated, and she nodded. “Alright.” I moved her off my lap and got out of bed. I quickly kissed her, grabbed my phone from the bed, and smiled at her. “I told you a long time ago that you had me in your corner, so it’s no reason for you to be scared of shit, but you didn’t believe me.” I knew the smile I gave her didn’t reach my eyes, but that was okay because I wanted her to see a glimpse of the psycho she’d just unleashed. “Get some rest, baby. We’ll touch down in a few hours, and you need your rest.”
“Amethyst?”
“Get your rest, Sunshine,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ll be in the cabin if you need me.” I turned the light off and cracked the door.
I sat in one of the chairs facing the bedroom and dialed Citrine’s number.
“Hello?”
“Call Uri and let him know I’m about to start moving again,” I said as I leaned back. “As soon as I land, I’m taking Yale home, and we are making moves.”
“Alright,” he agreed. “How much longer until you touch down?”
“An hour,” I answered. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to move.”
**
“What do you mean he touched her?” Citrine asked as I moved around my living room. When I was pissed, I cleaned, and even though my house was spotless, I kept trying to find something else to clean.
“She has bruises around her throat,” I answered. “Like a full handprint from where Quincy bitch ass grabbed her.”
“How do you want to move?” Pyrite calmly asked. He sat forward with a smirk on his face. “Because I got a few ideas in mind, but this is your battle, so I want to follow your lead.”
“Has Kenbral identified Luther’s body yet?”
“Yeah,” Pyrite nodded. “He’s just waiting for the go from you.”
“Tell that nigga to keep it close to the vest,” I said, shaking my head. “I want to shake shit up.”
“How?”
“I feel like praying, of course,” I decided as I grabbed my keys from the table.
Two hours later, I was sitting in front of Luther’s church. He was dead, but I knew how his family would move. They would act like shit was okay even though it wasn’t.
“You sure about this?” Citrine asked.
It took everything in me not to laugh at my brother. He wasn’t a scary nigga, but he had his way on how he moved. There werecertain things he would never do — shit we all did — but I had the least.
“Yep,” I answered as I watched Nathan Franklin walk out of the church and head to his car. I wasn’t sure what his connection to the shit with Yale was, but if any of them had their hands in this shit, it was him. I got out of my car, checked the clip on my gun, then started shooting. Killing him was my only concern. When my gun was empty, I approached Nathan’s car, pulled open the door, and dragged his body out. There was no way he was still alive with the way his body was riddled with bullets.
“What are you going to do with him?” Pyrite pointed to Nathan.
“Leaving him on the steps.” I dropped Nathan off at the church’s front steps, then went back to my truck and grabbed the gas container from the bed. “He wasn’t my concern.”
“Just an opportunity to make a statement,” Pyrite said, and I nodded. “I can appreciate the effort.”
