Page 22 of A Million Boss Kisses

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Quinten Bentley Sr.

“ A rghhhhhhhhhhhh!” I screamed as the bullet tore through my shoulder, excruciating pain exploding through my nerves and snatching the breath from my lungs.

The force of it knocked me back, slamming my body into the truck so hard the metal dented upon impact.

My knees buckled, and I crumpled to the ground, clutching my wound as warm blood gushed between my fingers.

My men were all crouched down around me until the gunfire ceased, and the tires squealing were the only sound left. Tevin popped up from beside me, aiming his gun at the car. I gathered the little bit of strength I had in me to kick my leg out, stopping him before he could pull the trigger.

“Don’t fucking shoot at them with my wife in that truck!” I snapped, closing my eyes from the additional pain that yelling brought on.

“Man, you got us looking like a bunch of bitches. That nigga shot you and skirted off with ya wife, and we supposed to eat that shit?”

I yanked the black t-shirt over my head and pressed it hard against my shoulder, the fabric soaking up the blood fast. My teeth clenched from the sting, but I kept my eyes locked on Tevin from my position on the ground, leaning up against the truck.

“What the fuck else you gone do, nigga?” I growled, daring him to do something.

“Somebody go after them! See where the fuck they going!” I ordered after he failed to move or say anything else.

“You want somebody to run after them and not shoot back while that nigga shooting at us like he fucking John Wick. This some bullshit, Q! I been ten toes down with you since I was a jit, but I ain’t blind.

The fact that yo wife popping her pussy for another nigga not going to feed our families! ” He argued.

I scrambled, pushing through the pain to gather every ounce of strength I had left as I pushed myself off the ground and stepped in Tevin’s face. The sound of a truck driving off behind me told me that some of my men were still subordinate and following orders.

“Tevin and Q, calm down!” Damon barked, stepping in our direction. He pushed Tevin back, then opened the rear passenger door that I was standing in front of to help me inside.

“Everybody else go find some shit to do! Tevin, you drive us to Q’s house so we can have the doctor pull up over there.” Damon ordered once I was seated in the truck.

Footsteps pounded from every direction as men piled into the other two trucks.

Doors slammed, and engines growled as they pulled off in various directions.

Tevin begrudgingly rounded the car and claimed the driver’s seat.

Damon closed the door and hopped in the front passenger seat before Tevin pulled off.

“Tevin, you of all people know it’s a lot going on right now,” Damon broke the silence in the car.

Taking the words right out of my mouth. We went back to middle school. When his family was toppled and ran out of Miami, I gave him the opportunity to feed his family off the strength of our friendship. Now this motha fucka had all this stress on his chest with the same nigga that fed him.

“I do, and that’s why I think we should be focused on what the fuck your cousins might try to do instead of what your wife doing. She gone, Q! Let her go and focus on what’s important. Everything you doing is going to lead to you losing power.”

“Motha fucka my family is important!” I seethed.

“I said what I said. You keep mixing this with your personal shit, and we the ones catching bullets behind it.”

“I’m the one with a bullet lodged into my shoulder. You just fine,” I groaned, looking at the wound. It was just a few inches away from where Marissa stabbed me.

“Where Luigi, Marvin, and Shotty at, Q? They all got put down with no recourse and now you asking us to put our lives on the line again for some personal shit.”

“I ain’t asking you to do shit, Tevin. Ion trust yo ass right now so after this stay yo ass home. Your money will still come but Ion need no niggas second guessing me on the frontlines.”

“Yeah, alright nigga. Just make sure that deposit hit. You ain’t hurting me one bit.”

Outside of Damon, Tevin was the person closest to me in this shit.

They were by my side when I took over the family, and I thought they would be around until the end, but public disrespect was hard for me to look past. I don’t give a fuck if there was some truth to it.

We drove to the house in silence, and I instantly grew agitated when I spotted my uncle’s truck pull into the driveway right behind us.

I was consistently watching our surroundings so they didn’t follow us here, but this was the worst timing.

“See, look at the vultures, ready to pounce.”

“Shut the fuck up nigga. You think that shit you just pulled makes it any better?”

“Nah, it didn’t. But you know I got your back regardless, and I wasn’t lying about shit I said.

Plus, the only reason I even raised my gun was because I had a clear shot of that fuck nigga.

He was happy as shit, showing off all his fucking teeth while he shot at us, just as confident as ever that he wouldn’t get his head blown off.

Do you know the message you would’ve sent to Marissa if I would’ve hit him?

” Tevin ranted, looking up at me from the rearview mirror.

“Do you know the message Vincent would’ve sent to your wife if you would’ve shot at a car that Marissa was in?” I asked, my eyes locked on his. Tevin didn’t say shit. He just clenched his jaw and looked away from the rearview mirror, knowing I was right. “That’s why I do the fucking thinking.”

Tevin gave me a head nod, and I swung the door open, bracing myself.

Damon moved to help, but I pulled my good arm away and kept it pushing.

I really wasn’t in the mood for none of this shit right now.

Damon caught the hint and rushed to the front door to open it.

The doctor’s minivan pulled into the driveway just as I tumbled inside.

Tevin pulled out of the driveway, and I looked back at my uncle’s truck because he hadn’t stepped out the vehicle or anything.

“Mr. Bentley, we can’t keep meeting like this,” Esmarelda greeted me with a shake of her wrinkled pointer finger. Her salt-and-pepper hair was pulled up into a high bun. She wore a pale pink muumuu that flowed around her body and carried a black leather Prada duffle bag in one hand.

“It’s been a year since the last time,” I joked to lighten the mood, closing the door behind her.

“Did your wife do this too? If so, just set her free.”

“Nah, it wasn’t my wife this time.”

“Sit, let me wash my hands so I can take a look at it,” Esmarelda ordered on her way to the kitchen.

I retrieved a bottle of brown liquor from the cabinet and took a seat.

The searing pain had me looking for anything to take the edge off, I didn’t give a fuck what it was as I guzzled it down.

Damon pulled a barstool around the kitchen island next to the sink for me to sit in.

The front door swung open, and I heard my dad’s wheelchair whirring until he came into view with my Uncle Montell on his bumper.

“What the fuck happened to you?” He rasped before a coughing fit hit him.

“Nothing. I got a lot going on right now, so I’m not up for no silly shit,” I informed him.

Esmeralda pulled on a pair of gloves and examined the wound. I winced in pain, closing my eyes as her fingers prodded around the torn flesh, checking the entry and exit points.

“It’s a clean through-and-through,” she murmured, more to herself than to me. “No shattered bone, no bullet fragments. You got lucky again.”

I nodded and braced myself as she reached for the antiseptic. Biting into my bottom lip, I took the pain as she poured it straight into the wound. My entire body felt like it was on fire.

“Breathe,” she calmly stated, taking deep breaths for me to follow her breathing pattern. I threw back the bottle of liquor as Esmarelda reached for the tweezers.

There was another knock at the door and my uncle went to grab it. I’m sure it was his son’s ready to address the elephant in the room.

“Who the fuck shot you?” My dad questioned quietly once we were alone.

“I told you I’m good,” I replied just as Uncle Montell returned with Jerrod, Jamell, and Karmello behind him.

Esmeralda started stitching me up as they crowded around the other side of the table.

“Give us some privacy, Damon,” my dad huffed.

“Bet,” Damon nodded, eyeing me before he exited the house.

The door closed behind us and their mouths instantly started running.

“I’mma keep shit brief. You got us looking weak as fuck! You let some nigga yo wife fucking shoot at you and you didn’t do shit?”

Esmeralda winced at his words, the jerk causing me to cut my eyes at her. “I apologize. Maybe I shouldn’t be here for this conversation.”

“I agree. Let her do her thing then we can chop it up,” I pleaded.

“Fuck that. Every time we supposed to discuss this shit you got an excuse. You can’t go nowhere, so no time like now,” Jerrod snapped.

“You fought tooth and nail to have your son take over and look at him, running our name through the mud. It’s your fault too because you knew about those older kids. You knew this shit would go to Jamell, and I wanna know how the fuck you plan to make shit right?” Uncle Montell drilled my dad.

“I only knew about the eldest boy. That’s it. I tried to make her get an abortion, but she disappeared, so I thought the issue was handled.”

“Ain’t nobody here to rehash some shit that we can’t fix.

We can only discuss moving forward. Q at the head of the family is making us look weak and dysfunctional.

We know about his wife filing for divorce.

When that shit goes through, do you think everybody is just going to magically forget the rules of this shit? ”