Juvie grabbed his chest. “Damn. That hurt. But I still claim my Russian heritage proudly.PapaSergei is working on my adoption. Soon as I'm the youngest Sidorov brother, bet I fire yo' big heartless ass,” he charged.
“Juvie?” I said, crouching in front of Kemp slowly.
“Huh?”
“You never gon' be the youngest Sidorov brother.”
He sighed like he was so put up on. “Jealousy is so ugly on you,brat.”
I ignored him. “What kind of bitch ass nigga walks into a beauty supply store to talk shit to a woman?” I asked Kemp.
He sucked his teeth. “I remembered my girl asked me to pick up something. A nigga can't go run an errand? Damn! I ain't threaten nobody.”
“Mm-hmm.” I grabbed his jaw hard enough to make him wince. “Stop lying. You pitiful at it.”
“Man, fuck you.”
I smiled a little, then hit him in the stomach so hard he folded forward and gagged against the concrete.
“This interrogation lacks your usual finesse,” Mikhail observed.
I scowled at him. “You volunteering?”
“No. I prefer cleaner work.”
“Look at Misha, setting workplace boundaries,” Juvie said proudly.
Kemp coughed and shifted, trying to straighten up again. I let him. Then I punched him one more time. Blood dripped steadily from his mouth.
“You know what I don’t like?” I asked conversationally.
Juvie held up a hand. “Creamed corn. Remember that time–”
“Julien,” I snapped.
“Well, you asked,” he mumbled.
Kemp glared at me silently.
“Anyway, I don’t like you and any fucking thing you have to say in spaces connected to my wife. Whatever you have to say, you say to me,” I spat.
“I ain't got shit to say to–”
Ajani leaned forward slightly. “Fuck this. Who approached your family, maybe with the promise of an alliance?”
Kemp laughed bitterly, the sound slightly muffled by his swollen lips. “I'on know what you talking about and you don't either.”
“I know someone made Marguerite brave enough to send you running your mouth,” I said.
“My auntie ain't sent me nowhere.”
Braeden chuckled. “That's cute. You think you just lucked up hearing all that? You think you just happened to string together enough stuff to have a half ass story?”
Kemp stayed stubbornly quiet.
“Nah, nigga. I think it's no coincidence. I think your aunt made sure you heard that she had an ally. I think she spilled just enough to make you feel important. You know why, Kemp? Cuz your auntie knows that a weak ass nigga like you, one, likes to feel important and two, can't hold ice water. She has no kids and let me guess... Chauncey is her favorite. And you... you are expendable. So, Chauncey is in a nice, padded room somewhere listening to Beethoven and eating applesauce while you out here in these streets being the sacrificial lamb.”
Several things flashed across his stupid ass face. Denial, worry, realization, fear, then anger. Still, he kept quiet.
