“Let me deliver this report so I can get out of here before I get booked. You know your scary ass loves to snitch and hide behind that badge. I’m going to let these muthafuckas rest instead of earning their money today because it would take this whole force to pull me up off you once I get a hold of you, bitch. Move, hoe-ass nigga.”
Bumping his shoulder, I walked through the station and made my way to where I knew the captain’s office was located. Being in here too long made a nigga’s skin crawl, and before I had Jaseon Sr. come down here and act a fool about the booking of his oldest son, I’d rather leave. From what I heard, my mama lost her shit the one time he was locked up, and if they jammed us both and made my mama cry, that was another issue Slash would have to solve.
Knock! Knock!
“Come in, McKnight,” Captain Young called out, hanging up his phone without looking up at me. “What do I have to do to get you to act like you have sense when you come into my building?”
“Hire some real niggas and not lil’ bitches that run and cry when they get their feelings hurt.” I chuckled, shaking his hand once he stood and extended his. “This is the final written report for the Cummings case. All evidence points to homicide.”
Handing over the folder, I stood in front of his desk and watched as he scanned the documents. Massey double-checked my assessment and agreed with me. The suicide was staged.
“Well, I’ll be damned.” He sighed, dropping the manila folder on his desk. “Where the hell do I start looking?”
“That’s on you, my guy.” I shrugged, making my way back to the door. “However, I’d suggest starting with the one who called in and said he shot himself.”
Nodding, he called out to my back, thanking me for the report. I threw up two fingers and made my way back up front. Along the way, I mugged the entire force as they shot daggers at me. They hated everything about me, from the way I carried myself to the way their bitches threw their panties at me when they were in the presence of a real one. Chuckling lowly, I couldn’t help but shake my head because I would probably hate myself too.
“McKnight!” I heard Hines call out to me as I descended the stairs that led out of the building. I was double-parked with my shit running, and like always, it was untouched. “You don’t hear me?”
“The only time I speak to pussy is when I’m in it. Even then, I don’t do much talking.”
Giving him the middle finger, I eased inside my ride without even giving him a backward glance. Detective Hines thought his badge made him above the law. He was going to fuck around and find out about a side of me that even the devil in hell feared.
“Welcome to the mind of a maniac (street nigga, street nigga)”
Bobbing my head to the words of Lil’ Boosie, I rolled my blunt as I sat outside of my parents’ home. It was a nice day in the Grove, so in true McKnight fashion, my Pop and uncle wanted to throw something on the grill. Not to mention, it was rare that all my siblings would have clear schedules to gather in one place. You could always bet that when we did, this is where we would always be. No matter how old we got, no matter where life took us, we would always find our way home to Jaseon and Breonna McKnight.
“What the fuck you know about that shit, lil’ nigga?” I looked up as my father came out on the porch. “That shit was way before your time.”
“Real music never dies.” I smirked and lit the end of my smoke and took a pull. “Ain’t that what you said?”
I nodded my head to the lyrics as Boosie spoke truths through his lyrics. I may not have been raised during the Boosie Badazz era, but this nigga was tough. Kissing his teeth, my dad took a seat beside me. I turned and eyed the nigga, waiting for him to say some slick shit. When he didn’t, I took another toke and turned to him.
“How you been doing, Pops?” I asked. “How is it that you and Mama moved to the city, and I hardly see y’all?”
At the age of twenty-nine, I lived a solid life. My twin and I had both gotten a head start on life when we graduated high school right before our sixteenth birthdays. Jax and I may have been unruly niggas at times, but we were never dumb. While I chose medical school, he always wanted to be in the league. Now, I was working toward becoming a Chief Medical Examiner, and he was the star running back for the Reapers. When I decided to move to this city, it was only because Jax was planning to retire here, and now there was no place I’d rather be. My parents, now with an empty nest, decided they didn’t have to live in Willow Springs to run the casino, along with the other things my dad had his hands in. They packed up their shit and got themselves a home here in Mills Manor, just to be near my brother and me.
“I be too busy dropping dick off in your mama and enjoying the quietness of my house.” He chuckled as he exhaled the smoke from his own blunt. “Not having you cock-blocking muthafuckas in my crib has done wonders for my nuts.”
Frowning at him, I said nothing as I stared, pulling from my blunt. I loved my father with my entire heart, but sometimes, Iwanted to choke him out. What kind of shit was that to say to your son?
“You got that look in your eyes, Slash…” He side-eyed me as the blasting from car speakers could be heard in the distance. “I’m telling you right now, you ain’t too old to get your ass beat. That dark and leery shit doesn’t work on me. You don’t know if you wannabe Jason Voorhees or Hannibal Lecter.”
Even though I didn’t want to, I couldn’t help but laugh. Never in a million years would the consumption of human flesh appeal to me. Since an early age, I’d been fascinated with death and the human body. From figuring out how something happened to cutting a body open and removing the organs to study, I’d always had somewhat of an obsession. The older I became, the more intrigued I was. What others deemed a mental disorder was a feeling of euphoria for me. It wasn’t something I tried to make anyone understand. While others deemed me a freak, my family never treated me differently. They’re the only ones I’d ever been able to be my true self with.
“You know, any other nigga would’ve been bleeding on this concrete.” I pulled from my blunt as I settled back down. Since he was my best friend outside of Jax, he knew those words rang true. “A lot of niggas fear the name Slash.”
“I ain’t them niggas.” He shrugged as dust filled the driveway from the speeding car approaching. “I’m your damn daddy, kid. I’m the original maniac.” Groaning, he shook his head in despair, eyeing the approaching car. “I go from dealing with a serial killer to the city girls.”
“Get it, Sexyy! Get it, Sexyy! Get it, Sexyy! Get it, Sexyy!”
No sooner than the words left his mouth, did my sister, Karlie, and my little cousin, Jaycee, come speeding down the driveway like bats out of hell. Driving her Benz like a Scat Pack, I shook my head at Karlie and her wannabe ghetto ass. As bad as I wanted to get at the girls about that shit, I couldn’t becauseas soon as their music filled the front yard, Mama and Auntie Monique came running outside.
“Look at this shit.” My dad frowned and stood as my Uncle Amir walked up from the backyard with a grilling spatula in one hand and a beer in the other. The mug on his face mirrored my dad's. “We can’t even be mad at the girls when their mamas are the OG hoochies.” Walking down from the porch, he cupped his hands around his mouth before yelling out to my mama. “Bebe, get your muthafuckin’ ass off the hood of that damn car before I break my foot off in you, girl!”
Twerking without a care in the world, Mama looked back at my Pops, sticking her tongue out in response. I groaned because I knew some foul shit was about to come out of her mouth.
“Ohhh, baby, you know I like it when you talk like that.” She handed Auntie Mo her margarita as she continued to put on a show with the girls. “If you want to put something in my ass?—”
