Page 27 of A Kingpin’s Weakness

I stepped in, letting my presence hang heavy in the air, letting Ronnie feel the weight of everything I was carrying.

All the betrayal, the anger, the blood that tied me to this moment.

Behind me, Rich and Southside trailed, their bodies pulsing with heat and tension.

I could feel it their fury, barely held back, ready to snap loose.

“Seth.” His voice was cracked like a scared kid trying to sound hard.

“In the flesh.”

“You niggas set me up.”

I shook my head, low and steady. “Nah, you set yourself up.”

Southside flexed, muscles coiled like a panther about to pounce. But before he could move, Rich stepped forward and slammed the butt of his gun into Ronnie’s face. Hard. The way his body hit the floor looked final, no theatrics, no second chances.

I looked at Rich and the man was out of his mind, but I couldn’t blame him. Ronnie had taken from us all in ways we couldn’t even explain. The kind of pain that didn’t just leave bruises, it left scars on the soul.

“We would love to stay and watch the show, but I know you three got it covered. I have some business to handle. Catch up with you later.”

“Later,” I said, voice rough, heavy with what was coming.

King and Rico gave us a nod, dapped us up, and slipped out the warehouse like ghosts. I sent Southside to lock the doors behind them. The last thing I needed was an unexpected audience. This was our moment. Our reckoning.

My hands were steady, but my heart wasn’t. I wrapped the cold steel chains around my fingers like rosary beads, as if they could save me from what I was about to do. “Let’s get his body lifted,” I muttered, voice low like the weight in my chest.

Rich and Southside stepped in without a word, the silence between us loud with memory, with pain. They grabbed the chains and clamped them around Ronnie’s arms and legs limp. His head lolled to the side like he was just sleeping, but I knew better. There wasn’t no peace in that man. Not anymore.

I bent down, slid my arms under his back, and lifted. My muscles strained, not just from his weight, but from everything that came with it: regret, rage, and the cold kind of sorrow that made your throat burn.

“Hey, Ronnie, I see them niggas left.”

The voice came from the shadows, slick and familiar.

Mike. Of course it was him. Right-hand to the man who used to sit at the table with me.

I felt it in my gut before I saw his face he wasn’t far.

He never was not when money was on the line.

Not when blood was in the air. I didn’t flinch.

Didn’t give him a chance to get one step closer.

Pop. One shot. Right between the eyes. He crumpled like yesterday’s paper. My hands were still warm on the grip. My pulse barely spiked.

Be the first one to shoot.

That’s what Pops always said.

That’s how you make it home.

Southside didn’t even blink while stepping over Mike’s bloody body, like the bastard was nothing. Tossed me the bucket of cold-ass water. I grabbed it, slammed it in Ronnie’s face.

“Wake the fuck up, nigga.”

Rich’s voice cracked the second Ronnie’s eyes flickered open, barely conscience, barely alert.

I leaned close, yanked his head back so he couldn’t avoid me. “told you I would be seeing you soon”

I stood in front of Ronnie, chained like the dog he was, and I swear the air was different in the room. Thicker. Heavier. Like my pops was right there beside me, watching with the same eyes I saw in the mirror every morning.

The bat felt heavy as sin in my hands barbed wire cutting into my palms. I hit him hard, twice in the gut.

“Can’t hear shit now, huh? This ain’t about the streets,” I said, pacing, breathing hard while swinging the bat and connecting with Ronnie’s body with every swing. “This ain’t about territory or money. This is about a son who buried his childhood the day you pulled that fuckin’ trigger.”

I continued to swing and connected with Ronnie’s body. Blood broken bones flesh and skin being removed. Ronnie tried to speak but he fast-talked enough over the years.

“Shut the fuck up,” I growled, gripping the bat like it was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

“You don’t get to scream. Not after everything.

” I swung again, his ribs cracked, skin tearing.

“This is for every bill my mom had to pay alone.” He spat at me.

So I pistol-whipped him. “You killed the only man who ever gave a fuck if I made it home.”

I grabbed his head and leaned in close. “You made me grow up too fast. You made me hold my mama at night when she was screamin’ into pillows tryin’ not to wake me up.

You made me hate myself for not being a man when I was just a fuckin’ kid.

” I passed the bobbed wire bat to Rich and let him do his thing.

Ten minutes straight Rich beat into this man with no remorse before I tagged myself back in.

Pop! Pop! Both knees.

“That’s for every goddamn night my mom fell to her knees, praying, crying, begging God to take away her pain all ‘cause of you.”

Ronnie screamed, a sound so raw it tore me up inside. Not outta guilt.

Not outta mercy. But because I felt it, all of it. Every echo of her sobs in the bathroom when she thought I was asleep. Every time I told her I missed my pops. Every lie she told just to keep me believing she had things under control. I felt her broken heart in my bones.

Aww Ronnie screamed in pain as Rich snatched the bat and started beating Ronnie ass with it again.

“Talk your shit now” Rich got madder with every hit. Ronnie ass was damn near unconscious from the pain. Rich didn’t give two fucks neither did I.

We took the three seats as we watched Ronnie Bleed out as he could barely stay conscious. We all fired up a blunt and sat in our own feelings.

I started to see my life when I was little.

The times I needed my father the times my mom needed my father.

I was battling between being a boy and being a man.

The moments of my life that my father missed.

He would never get a chance to see S3, watch me walk down the aisle, or grow old with my mom’s.

I grabbed the bat and hit it against Ronnie’s body multiple times. Thinking about everything he took from me and my family.

“Wake the fuck up. You don’t get to sleep through this.”

Ronnie skin was now off and cut to the meat.

I watched the blood pour from his body and laughed.

I handed Rich the bat as I walked to the back to get the barrel of acid, I was going to slowly drop Ronnie’s body in.

Southside lifted his body higher so only his feet touched the acid.

You could see the smoke from the moment his toes entered the barrel.

His screams brought me joy. We all sat back and smoked a joint as I watched Ronnie’s body slowly fall into the acid and Rot.

“Here’s to Seth Sr and Lia.”

Southside said, pouring out some liquid. Then he handed me the bottle, and I took two shots for the lives we lost and poured out some for my daddy and Lia. Rich followed suit and did the same.

“I told you I was going to send your killer straight to you,” I said as I looked up to the ceiling and pulled on my joint.

“Baby, I’m sorry I failed you.”

I heard Rich say as he killed the rest of the bottle and fell into his chair, pulling on the rest of his blunt.

“Forget this,” I said as I empty the clip in Ronnie’s body.

The warehouse was silent now. Just smoke, blood, and ghosts.

Ronnie’s body was gone. Dissolved. Shot. Forgotten by the world, but never by me.

We sat there. Me, Rich, Southside. No one said shit for a long time. Just the faint crackle of the joint burning, the low hum of pain buzzing in my ears. The kind that don’t fade. The kind that lives with you.

I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, staring at the floor like I was looking through it. It was done. But nothing felt lighter. I ain’t expect peace. I knew better than that. What I expected was something. Closure, maybe. Justice all I felt was hollow.

“Shit don’t bring her back,” Rich mumbled, voice barely above a whisper.

He was staring at the same floor I was, tears sitting in his eyes but never falling. That man had lost his whole world the day Lia died. And I lost a piece of myself, too.

“She should still be here,” he said. “We both should’ve protected her better.”

I couldn’t even lie to him. “You right,” I said. “We failed her.”

Rich nodded, slow and broken, then leaned back in his seat, letting the smoke from his blunt fill the space between us. Southside hadn’t said a word since we dumped Ronnie’s body. Just stared. Like he was somewhere else.

I stood up and walked to the back of the warehouse. I needed air. The doors creaked open, and I stepped outside. Night had swallowed the city. The kind of night that felt heavy, like the sky was grieving with you.

I pulled out my phone, staring at the screen, then turned it off.

I didn’t want no calls. No texts. No noise.

My feet took me to the edge of the lot. Beyond it was nothing but shadows and silence.

I looked up at the stars and wondered if my pops could see me now.

Would he be proud? Or just disappointed I turned out just like him?

“I kept my word, Pop,” I said out loud. Voice cracked, but I didn’t care. “I sent your killer to you. Just like I said.”

But saying it didn’t bring no peace. Just more silence.

I thought of my mom. All those nights she cried when she thought I was asleep.

Her hands shaking when she held the Bible.

Her voice raw from praying for a son she couldn’t save.

And me I’d been at war with the world since I was fourteen. Now I was just tired.

I pulled out my chain my daddy’s dog tag.

I gripped it tight until it bit into my skin.

“I ain’t know if I became the man you wanted, or just another version of the one who broke you,” I whispered.

The wind picked up, brushing against my skin like a cold hand.

“You ever gonna forgive me?” I asked no one.

Or maybe I asked God. Maybe I asked pops.

I didn’t get an answer. Just a heartbeat.

Mine. Loud. Unforgiving. Behind me, I heard footsteps.

“You good?” Southside asked.

I nodded, even though I wasn’t.

He didn’t press. He just stood there next to me. Quiet. Loyal. Same as always.

“Let’s get outta here,” I finally said.

As we walked away from the warehouse, I didn’t look back. I couldn’t. What was behind me was dead. What was ahead still unknown. But tonight, I laid one ghost to rest. And maybe just maybe I’d find a way to start living again