"Nah, he gave me good advice. He told me to be a gentleman, hold doors, carry her books, and give compliments. I did all of it for like three weeks and got nothing but smiles from her. I was cool, tho. She might've just been a slow burn."
"Slow burn?" I raised a brow.
"Yeah, slow burn." He chuckled. "I was fine with it, not trying to overdo it. Then I pull up for gym and she's behind the bleachers with some dude. When she saw me, she jumped, butdude was already done. Ms. Navy, she had the audacity to tell me it wasn't what it looked like."
"Maybe it wasn't. Maybe she just?—"
"She had nut on her lips," he quipped, momentarily shutting me up.
"Mekhi!" I hissed through clenched teeth, trying and failing not to laugh.
"Nah, don't yell at me. Go yell at that hoe. She's fifteen and getting slutted out. Dude didn't even clean her off. He just laughed and told me not to wife her."
"How did seeing that make you feel?" I asked, finally recovering from the shock.
"It's whatever."
"Don't dismiss your feelings, Mekhi, not with me."
"I mean, I felt like a sucker, but it is what it is. From now on, I'm just gon' be picky with who I'm nice to."
"I won't lecture, but don't let one bad apple spoil the bunch. Now come help me get breakfast started."
We left my office and headed into the state-of-the-art kitchen I had remodeled once I took over. Gravehart Homes had around-the-clock staff, but nothing felt better to me than being hands-on. The chef usually came in around seven on weekends and six on weekdays, but today I called and told her to come in for lunch. I planned to handle breakfast and get some work done until it was time for me to call it a day.
Honor Gravehart
The sun was barely up,but the murders in my city were already up by three. I leaned against the brick of the slaughter mill and watched morning come in nice and comfy. The sun's rays bled through the fog like God making peace with my morning sins.
Just thirty minutes ago, I was standing in a room with seven niggas who didn't understand the pecking order of how this shit worked. Crown killing Lynx then dipping for two months left a void in Ember Hills. Naturally, niggas were hungry to fill it. I could've stepped in and handled it when Crown first dipped, but that nigga wanted to beat his chest 'bout being his own man, so I stepped back, giving him the room to rise to the occasion.
The nigga never rose. He didn't even sprout.
The borough he was in charge of went haywire. Everyone started gunning for the claim of the normally quiet borough. Killian, being the unofficial borough president, couldn't have niggas acting stupid and bringing unwanted attention. So, what this nigga do… hit my phone at the crack of dawn telling me it was my issue to fix or Lucian was gon' lose access to the docks. Too much shit was already happening without the loss of the docks. What Crown ignored was now my problem to solve.
Killian gathered the niggas who thought they deserved Lynx's spot and sent them to meet me at the slaughter mill. My plan was simple. Show up, regulate, send niggas packing, and head home to see Navy off for work.
Fucking simple, but of course niggas had to puff out their chest, like I wasn't the type of nigga to cave that shit in. Three of 'em thought, because Crown was who they normally answered to, listening to me was beneath them. That was a testament to how much room I gave Crown to do his own shit. These niggas didn't know better.
I laughed.
They laughed even harder, thinking shit was jokes… at least until I grabbed one of Wolfe's knives and removed their tongues. Three died, but the other four learned a valuable lesson. Respect wasn't optional. If I had to take it, so be it.
I stared at the sky, reliving what I've done, feeling sick and alive at the same time. Sick from having to do that nasty shit, but alive from the kind of power only playing God could give. Lucian didn't warn me about this part. It was never the killings that haunted you. It's always the silence that swarms after. The world kept spinning as if nothing had happened, like the blood on my hands meant nothing. Those were the demons waiting for me whenever I closed my eyes. But when open, the rush of holding life and death in my grasp canceled everything else out. This wasn't supposed to be my life, yet it kept me breathing. Every day, I questioned whether surviving was a blessing or a curse.
I shook off those thoughts, then let my head bow for a second, reciting a prayer that always tasted like guilt.
Lord, protect me in these streets. Forgive my wrongs and my mistakes. Guide me through the dark and the fight. Keep me strong in your light. Watch over my heart, my soul, my mind. Grant me peace and let mercy find me. Amen.
I let my eyes open, and everything felt off kilter. I glanced toward my hands, still stained with blood from niggas I knew nothing about.
Were they brothers… sons… fathers…
Shock hit me. Guilt and a twinge of regret replaced the trust I had in myself. Then Crown's voice cut through the tremors in my head.
"Say some wild shit like that again, and I'ma use what you taught me to put you down."
I swallowed hard, confused on why that came to mind.
