“Why didn’t you shoot him?” Pyrite asked as he rounded the brothers. “Make this shit quick, get the cleaner in here, and go on with our lives.”
“I got questions,” I said as I looked at my watch. “Citrine?”
“What’s good?” he said as he stood on Paul’s shoulder. For this nigga to not like bodily fluids, he was always doing something to produce them.
“Can you get the door? Pick up is here,” I said, and he grilled me. “Man, just get it.”
“I may own a hotel, but nigga, I am not a bellhop,” he grunted, then stepped off Paul’s shoulder and kicked him in the side. “I’ma do it this one time, but next time, you do the shit.”
“I got you.” I checked Grant to make sure he didn’t have a gun, and I wasn’t surprised when he didn’t. He was the good one in the family, so having a gun on him wouldn’t have fit his image.
Citrine went to open the door, and I checked over the other two brothers. “Ay, bitch boy.” I tapped Paul on the cheek to make him look at me. “Talk to me right fast.”
“Fuck you,” he mumbled, and I pushed two fingers into his shoulder. He screamed in pain, but I didn’t give a fuck.
“No name-calling,” I said, shaking my head. “Now, let’s try this again.” I pulled my finger from his wound and patted his cheek. “Bitch boy.”
“You said no name-calling,” Pyrite laughed.
I looked up at him and shrugged. “I don’t count,” I replied, and he shook his head.
“Man, go on and talk to that nigga,” he said, waving me off. “I got a flight to catch here shortly.”
“Where the fuck are you going?”
“To bail out Javien’s stupid ass,” he answered with a grunt. “Nigga partied too hard in Texas and now needs me to show my face.”
“He’s digging himself more and more into debt,” I said, then turned my attention back to Paul. Why this nigga wasn’t fighting back was beyond me. He was lying here with one gunshot wound in his shoulder, and he was acting like his world was over. “Now bitch boy, answer this question for me.”
“I ain’t telling you shit,” Paul grunted.
“Damn, I was hoping you said that because that nigga wants you too,” I replied, then stood. I stomped on his gunshot wound, then kicked him in the face.
“Oh, that nigga looks pissed,” Pyrite said as Uri, Citrine, and the Lidell brothers walked into the living room. The Lidell brothers being with him meant that Psalms had made good on her word by calling them in. Having Term, Script, and Word around was going to shake up a lot of shit and make niggas move, which meant they would get sloppy. And a sloppy nigga would eventually show their hand, and I’d be waiting.
“Do you blame him?” I asked, and Pyrite shook his head. “This family had tortured his woman for years, and they didn’t even realize it. Uri, they are all going to the warehouse.” Uri nodded, then put his hands in his pockets. He wasn’t a talker, and I understood why. “Ex is going to handle the cleanup, and we will meet you there.”
Uri nodded, grabbed Isaac by his ankle, and dragged him out of the house. The Lidell brothers did the same, and they all left as quickly as they came.
“He’s going to crash out,” Pyrite said. “You may as well be prepared to not get any answers because of it.”
“Nah, we have an agreement,” I said, shaking my head. “He knows he can’t kill them until I get the information that I need.”
“Uri doesn’t follow the rules,” Citrine chuckled. “Trust me, I should know.” He lifted his shirt to show the proof. Back in the day, when Citrine did underground boxing, he’d met Uri in the ring a few times. Every time they stepped into the ring together, one of them ended up being seriously injured. The last time Citrine had to have surgery was because Uri had broken his ribs, and one of his ribs had perforated his colon. Not too many people knew that he had a colostomy bag because of Uri. “Once he’s in a zone, there’s no going back.”
“Then we need to go,” I said, and my brothers nodded. I wasn’t worried about the house. Ex would make sure it was clean, and would wipe the security cameras.
**
“Ay, now nigga open them eyes.” Grant’s eyes snapped open, and I smiled. “Yeah, nigga welcome back to reality. Now that you’re here, explain something to me.”
“Go to hell,” he grunted.
“That’s probably my reality.” I shrugged. I’d done some evil ass shit in my life. Things that I couldn’t come back from, and I dealt with those daily. The only good thing that was ever attached to me was Yale, my Sunshine. “But until then, I’ve got shit to deal with. Starting with you.”
“Fuck you,” he replied. “I ain’t telling you shit.”
“Oh, you think?” I questioned. I wrapped my hands around his neck and squeezed; my grip never wavered, he was going to feel every fucking ounce of my strength. “Do you know the kind of nigga you’re dealing with?” I stared down at him. “Do you realize that I’m not wrapped too tight?”
