Her ego was bruised, but she was lowkey glad it was some street shit and not him running off because of Minx. That was a change for sure. Maybe things between them would shift into the right direction this time. Nadia never got over Rose. She knew he wasn’t the type of nigga you made do a damn thing. She had to be patient and follow his lead, for now.
“I got some shit that needs my attention. I’ll hit you up later.” Rose opened the car door and got inside.
Finn sparked a fresh Newport before he started his car up. Minx tossed the rest of the blunt out of the window, and Finn put the car in drive. Silence and Finn’s playlist filled the ride until he wheeled his car up the driveway. Minx noticed that her father’s truck was parked off to the side. The back door opened, and the screen swung out. Max stood there, no longer stylish in his suit and loafers. Distressed jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and his black leather biker vest replaced the look. He was on a different type of time now. Finn opened the door, and Minx piled out with her brother right behind her. Rose and Finn put their feet on the ground, and t met up with Max at the back door. Mille ran past his sister, right up to his father and dapped him up. Max pulled his son into a warm embrace and kissed the top of his head.
“What up, Pop?” he greeted him.
“Son, go on inside to your room for me.”
“A’ight.” He nodded and ambled inside as he was instructed.
Max wanted Mille to be a kid as long as possible. He didn’t lie to his son or sugarcoat anything, but he did shield him from the type of bullshit he’d seen and done in his own life. Had to break the cycle somewhere.
The softened expression for his son shifted when his daughter approached. Max was a brooding man. It wasn’t something she thought could ever change. Her mother said it was originally what drew to him. It meant that Max was always thinking, always plotting, wondering, waiting on something to happen.
Standing at least a foot or so taller than his daughter. He was a very lengthy man. Soaking in Minx’s beautiful face, he touched her chin before he kissed the top of her head.
“What’s going on?” Minx frowned while Finn and Rose hovered behind her.
“You know Carmichael’s daughter?” Max questioned.
“Yeah, Brenyn,” she answered, nodding. “What about her?”
“She’s inside. I put her in a guest room. She was attacked, raped, and beaten. I had a doctor come by already and check her out, but… she’s in pretty bad shape. I need you to sit with her, talk to her, keep her company while I handle some shit with Carmichael.”
“Oh my God… yeah, sure,” Minx quickly agreed.
She rushed inside and left her father alone with Finn and Rose.
“What the fuck happened?” Finn demanded, anger boiling in his chest.
Rapists and child molesters should eat dirt, and he would be glad to be the one to put ’em there. Some shit was intolerable, and that was two of them. Finn’s mother used to get beat on by his stepfather, and he hated both of them for imprinting that shit on his childhood.
“Some gang of little niggas over off Trenton Avenue caught her on some bullshit,” Max described.
His demeanor seemed calm, but inside, rage brewed. The old him was ready to tear somebody’s head off, literally rip that motherfucker off the fucking spine. Kids were off limits. That was the rule. These little arrogant bastards these days couldn’t be told shit. A moral compass was lacking, and he blamed their flaw ass parents. Max pinched the bridge of his nose and blew hot air from it before shaking his head. He prided himself on taking care of his town, proving a safe place to be productive and have a village.
The local grocery store was run by the oldest couple on the block. The little corner stores and liquor stores were all family-based businesses that could be passed on from generation to generation.
The hair store was held down by Mila and her crew. His wife had the plug on the best weave and hair products and were making a killing. She took a few girls that she knew had some skills and put them through cosmetology school. When she opened up a shop, she hired each girl, gave them their own station, and started them off with a minimum booth fee. That was years ago. Mila ran all the retail shit in town. She was a mogul all by herself.
As her husband, Max just gave her the muscle. One would never assume their status or the figures brought in. Based off where they lived and their basic cars, you would think they were simply a middle-class family. Max liked it that way, which was why he moved the way he did. He didn’t need everybody pocket watching him. As long as he made sure those around him ate or had means to, he went to bed peacefully each night.
It seemed like ever since Mickey was killed, things only got worse in Kansas City. A lot of blood was shed when his daughters were harmed, and Max would never be able to atone for that. He did his best by helping when he could in situations like this. Carmichael was a good man. He ran the barbershop in town, did free cuts for back to school, and sponsored a lot of the local sports teams for the schools. His daughter attended the same high school that Minx went to years ago. Max felt a responsibility to the people in his town, so when someone wronged them, he was first in line to make shit right.
“So what you got for us? Where do we start?” Rose piped up, blood boiling.
He had a hatred, much like Finn, for weak niggas that took advantage of young girls and children in general.
“Go over to Trenton, keep an eye out for these little niggas. Keep your ear to the streets. I want these little mothafuckas in my face by the end of the night,” Max ordered.
“We got you.” Finn backed up with Rose and jogged toward his whip.
Rose rounded the back of his whip, joining him from the passengers seat. The car was still running, so he revved his classic engine and reversed out of the driveway. Max took a moment before turning to go back inside. Listening to the pots and pans being slung around the kitchen, he smiled when he caught his wife doing what she does best. Mila had come home a few hours ago after the news broke. Carmichael and his wife, Shenille, sat side by side at their island counter. Fresh brewed coffee accompanied croissants and a charcuterie board of meat, cheese and crackers in front of the anxious couple.
Max closed the back door behind him and joined his wife on the opposite side of the counter from the couple. Shenille’s eyes were red and swollen from crying. She had been with Mila at one of her shop locations when she got the call from her daughter. Brenyn sounded so wounded, and Shenille was barely able to make out an audible sound. She used the app she had on Brenyn’s phone to track her. That was how she and Mila found the girl. Mila collected what she could from her, called their on-call doctor, and brought her home. When she called Max, he immediately ended his meeting with the city to get home, and Carmichael shut down his shop early too. Brenyn had been held up in the guest bedroom ever since. She wouldn’t talk to anyone, and she sported a far-off, solemn gaze. She was empty inside, and her body ached terribly from all the trauma it had been put through.
Minx wasgood at relating to kids. She didn’t have to brag on it, but it wasn’t something that went unnoticed within the youthin the city. She prided herself on being someone they felt they could talk to. A lot of kids found her relatable or were interested about her story. Til this day when people saw her there were still whispers about what happened to her and her sister back in the day.
