Kai’s eyes went glassy with fear. “You think the Crown is going to let me do that?”
I shrugged. “That’syourproblem. You either help us get rid of the Crown…or you go down with them.”
He held my stare like he wanted to go against me, but fear kept getting in the way.
Then he whispered, “How do I know you won’t burn me anyway?”
I leaned forward again. “Because I’m giving you a door. Do what I’m telling you, and you walk through it alive. Fight me, and you go down with the Crown.”
TARIQ “REEK” HORTON
We met with the Street Kings at one of the Cartiers’ private spots. There was no sign outside or posted hours on the door. The front was just tinted glass, and there was posted security.
The inside was filled with dark booths and a fully stocked bar. The lights were kept dim enough to maintain privacy, but bright enough to see who walked in. The music only played loud enough that important conversations could be had without being forced to talk too loud. The bar was stocked with the most expensive liquors. A couple of the booths were occupied by familiar faces only. If you were invited there, you knew you could relax without watching your back or any threats. If you weren’t invited, there was no way you could even approach the front door.
Wise, Vega, and Prodigy looked like brothers because their fathers were. They had the same build, features, and presence. Their fathers’ Italian side showed in their features, but their mothers’ dark skin gave them that deep tone that made women stare too long. They were big brown and dark-skinned niggas who carried themselves like they had been handling pressure since they were kids.
Wise wore all black and sat with his back to the wall. His eyes moved more than his head did. He clocked the doors, cameras, security, and staff. He checked the room twice without making it obvious. He looked like sleep was optional for him and he never assumed he was safe.
Vega leaned back like he did not care about a gawd damn thing, but I could tell he cared about everything. His face stayed blank in a way that made him hard to read. He did not laugh as loud as Prodigy. He did not posture like most men would in front of the Cartiers. He just watched.
Prodigy was the opposite of both of them. He smiled first. He made eye contact first. He spoke first. He had that energy that made people focus on him without realizing it. His leg bounced under the table, and he kept checking the door like he expected somebody else to walk in behind us.
Legend leaned on the bar as he sipped from his drink. “You sure these niggas legit?” His eyes stayed on the Street Kings, like he was reading them. “The reason the Cartier Cartel done lasted this long is because we don’t sell to just anybody. We only move product to dealers who handle it right. Men who got sense. Men who move wise. Men who can get money without bringing the feds to our front door. And we gotta be evenmorechoosy now because wives and kids are involved. And I got a lot of fucking kids. I’m not leaving my children by coffin and or a jail cell because I got in business with some goofy niggas.” Then he looked back at me. “So, I’m asking again, Reek. You sure?”
I met his eyes. “I’m sure. I know them. That’s why I trust them.”
Legend urged me to go on. “Talk.”
“I ran with them back when I was still on the corners doing hand-to-hands, back when we were all younger and hungry and trying to figure out how to get on. Wise was always the one who made sure the math made sense. He was the one who could tellyou what the block did by day and by hour. He ain’t never been reckless. He has never moved like he wanted attention. Vega was always built different. He did what needed to be done, then kept it moving. If it got loud, he got quiet. He didn’t freeze, and he never folded. He just handled business. And Prodigy can talk a dog off a meat truck. He’s the one who got us into rooms we had no business being in. He could make a plug feel like a friend and a customer feel like family. He’s the reason they grew fast, because he knows how to connect.”
Legend leaned back, still studying me. “And you ain’t never seen no funny shit?”
“Nah. They loyal, solid, mature, real niggas. I ain’t never seen them move funny or playing both sides. They don’t work with rats. They don’t move sloppy. They have their own structure.”
Legend’s eyes went to the brothers one by one, reading them.
Legend watched me for another second after I finished talking, like he was deciding if my word was enough.
Then he nodded, satisfied.
He pushed off the bar and walked away, letting me know the conversation was over. He crossed the room and went straight to Icon. Icon was posted up at the end of the bar, texting. Legend leaned in and said something to him that I couldn’t hear, then looked at Saint.
Saint was still over there chopping it up with the Street Kings. We all knew each other, because we moved in the same social circles, but today was about bonding together as a family.
Legend made a small motion with his fingers, and Saint peeled off immediately, walking over to his brothers with that look that said playtime was over. They formed a triangle at the bar.
Then Legend looked back at Wise, Vega, and Prodigy. “A’ight, let’s talk business real quick.”
The Street Kings straightened up. Even Prodigy stopped bouncing his leg.
“If we put you under the Cartier umbrella, you’re moving our product the way we say move it. You’re moving it clean. You’re moving it quiet. You do not freelance. You do not get sloppy.”
Icon added, “Numbers matter. Youwillhave quotas. Youwillhit them. And you willnotdo dumb shit that brings attention. And don’t think you can call yourself plugged in and start acting different. Being tied to us don’t make you invincible; it makes you watched under a microscope.”
Wise nodded once. Vega just looked on, silently taking it all in. Prodigy smiled like he was eager for this shit, more than ready to prove their worth, and make this money.
Legend looked at me again. “And Reek.” I already knew what was coming. “If they fuck up, you gotta handle it.”
