Page 73 of Anything Necessary for Her (Crenshaw Kings #9)

SOMETIME LATER . . .

“Damn, I haven’t been patted down and stripped like that since I first started working for you.” Gaia walked in, tugging down her T-shirt and looking uncomfortable as fuck.

“You been out the game. Had to be sure you ain’t run off and link up with the opps,” I said, gesturing for her to take a seat at the table.

As soon as Gaia’s ass showed up, I had my niggas be sure she wasn’t wearing no kind of wire. I figured she wouldn’t be, but I couldn’t be too sure.

Detective Booth wanted me for big dog charges, and that included either murder or catching me in the midst of dealing copious amounts of hardcore drugs.

Her being wired up to come speak with me was a waste of his fucking time.

I’d dealt with snitches and detectives with hard-ons like Booth for years, and they were more readable than a children’s book.

She didn’t have shit she could give him yet. I never stored drugs at this warehouse, only passed them through, but Gaia hadn’t been working for me for the past few weeks and therefore wasn’t privy to when and where they’d be in order to supply Booth with that information.

“Yeah, right. Plus, ain’t nobody getting money out here like you.

” She smiled before dropping it and sighing.

“I want to apologize for my behavior at the last two kickbacks of Free’s.

I know me and you were never like that, and I also know better than to be disrespectful to Banks, not only because she’s your girl but because she’s Sif’s sister. ”

I bobbed my head, uninterested in her fake ass apology. Like I said, Gaia’s moves were obvious, and this whole reformed crazy bitch act was simply so I could trust her ass again. I needed to trust her and feel like she was trustworthy in order for her to successfully throw a nigga to the wolves.

“You ready to do some real work?” I queried.

“Yes. Yes. I’ve been going stir crazy sitting up in the house with Boyce’s ass.” She smacked her lips, shaking her head at the thought of her nigga.

“Cool.” I scooted closer to the table, leaning in. “How I know you loyal for real? Not just to me, but to my girl?”

“Let me prove it you, boss. Anything.” She stared deeply into my eyes, and had Mitch not dropped the dime on her ho ass, I just might’ve believed her.

“I need you to locate somebody and fuck her up. I don’t mean a few punches and bloody noses left in the trail. I need you to do some real fucking damage so she can’t even walk after,” I explained.

“That’s it?” Gaia grinned, delighted at being given such an unchallenging ass task.

She was a hood bitch and fighting—especially grimily—was right up her alley.

It was nothing for a bitch like Gaia to slip two blades between her fingers and fight, slicing her opponent’s face with every hit.

Whether she could actually fight or not didn’t matter.

Gaia had the mentality of a ruffian, and therefore, beating Nikita’s hating ass until she was handicapped was nothing to her.

“Yeah, that’s it.”

“Okay, who is it?”

“Nikita Johansson, and make sure this shit is carried out perfectly. If that bitch is getting up and walking after, you won’t be walking after. Understood?”

“Absolutely.”

“Cool.” I sat back, studying her. “After you come through on this, you can get back to work. Got a big job for you. You don’t complete it, and you done for good.”

I wasn’t worried about her taking this shit to Booth or to anybody because, for one, she needed to gain my trust, and secondly, her physically assaulting Nikita per my orders was small shit that Booth had no interest in.

Detectives like him would most likely slap the shit out of Gaia for even thinking shit like this was enough to take time out of his fucking day to listen to.

I knew dangling that big job in front of her would have her ass salivating and thinking her plan to gain my trust was working. I never let Gaia do anything like what I was about to give her ass, and it was all so she’d get pulled over and arrested, unbeknownst to her.

“No worries. Whoever this ho is, is gonna regret fucking with you. Or . . . was it Banks?”

“Just do what I asked.” I rose, and Gaia nodded excitedly before standing to her feet as well.

I left the room, bypassing Free and giving him an inconspicuous nod to let him know shit was in motion. He mirrored the gesture as I made my way out of the warehouse.

Everybody knew, like Gaia, that until she completed the shit with Nikita, she couldn’t do any other work for me.

Hopping in my whip, I typed in the St. Thomas’ address before driving straight there. It took me about forty minutes due to how far out from the city the warehouse was.

When I pulled up, Prime buzzed me through the gate, and by the time I was pulling around the stone fountain in the driveway, he was standing in his doorway.

“What’s good, young nigga?” He reached out to slap my hand as I neared him.

“What’s good?” I obliged.

“See you got on my same fit.” He nodded at the joggers and wife beater I had on that were identical to his.

I chuckled, not even realizing it.

“Yeah, this my uniform. Your baby girl got me rocking other shit when we go out now though.”

He smirked as he shut the front door, walking off as I followed.

“Banks think she know everything about fashion, so I ain’t surprised,” he said as we stepped down into the den.

“She make everything look good, so I ain’t either,” I replied then caught myself, not knowing how he’d take that shit.

“You can compliment my baby, young nigga. It’d be a problem if you didn’t.” He sunk into the couch. “What’s this about though?”

Sitting on the recliner adjacent to him, I leaned forward.

“I need you to do me a favor and keep Peep busy all day this Saturday. We usually together every ni—weekend, and there ain’t really an excuse to give her as to why we can’t kick it.”

“What’s the reason?”

“I bought her a ballet studio and wanna take the day to paint and install some shit.”

“You ain’t pay nobody to do it?”

I laughed.

“I did for some of the bigger shit like electricity, plumbing, and roofing, but the inside, I wanna do myself. I already did the flooring, but the shit took forever in between working and being a boyfriend and shit,” I explained as he nodded.

“You don’t need no help, young nigga? My back hurting just listening to this shit. Lucky for me, I got Sif, so I make his ass come over and put shit together or play contractor.”

We chortled in unison.

“As much as I would appreciate bonding with Banks’s pops and the help, I’d much rather you keep her busy for me.”

“Aight, I got you.” He took me in like he was thinking deeply before he asked, “You play pool?”

“I do. All the time when I go to Free’s house.”

“We gotta play one of these days.” He kept his eyes locked on me.

“I’m definitely with that. Just don’t renege on yo’ stamp of approval when I win.”

He snickered subtly.

“I ain’t know what to think when Sif told me he was passing this shit off to you.

I was hot, I ain’t gon’ lie. He only thirty-one, so I was expecting him to go a little longer on top of everything.

He broke it down to me though, said he wanted to be sure he was alive and free to be there for his wife and his kids.

Not to mention, he was beyond wealthy, and any more money made would be out of greed and ultimately inessential.

” Prime looked to the floor, thinking. “I couldn’t even be mad at that shit ’cause he was right.

He also said he wasn’t handing shit off to no fruitless, foolish ass nigga, and he was right. ” He finally caught my eyes.

“I appreciate that, P. For real.”

“I had yo’ ass all wrong, Low, but I’m thankful you ain’t no bitch ass nigga who let a bunch of grown men who think they know everything run him off. In our defense, we do know a lot, and in most cases be right, but I should’ve known better if suspicious ass Sif wasn’t side-eyeing you.”

Chuckling, I replied, “It’s straight. I understood the issue, and honestly, the Low from some years back wouldn’t have been a good fit for Peep. Not to mention, I got a baby sister and . . . man, I just pray I can keep it together,” I stated honestly, even though Prime and I sniggered.

“Just pray she finds a nigga like her brother.”

His comment caught me off guard, causing me to let out a deferred chuckle.

Little did he know, that one sentence, and from a nigga like Prime, held more weight than gold, and surely more weight than anything Whitney had ever said about or to a nigga.

SATURDAY . . .

I stepped back from the mirrored wall to be sure the barre I’d put in was actually straight.

I’d been working in this ballet studio since seven a.m., and it was now noon, so I was tired as fuck.

I’d gotten a lot done, though, having painted most of the walls that didn’t have mirrors pink, put in barres, and then the pink vanity in the bathroom.

“My wife went and bought all this shit claiming it’s to decorate.” A voice I knew belonged to Asif made me turn around toward the entrance.

He was carrying a bunch of bags, and I could see it was filled with pink shit—Banks’s favorite color.

“Oh shit.” I took some of the bags from him, and once we set them down in the corner, I slapped hands with him. “Tell Stazi I appreciate that shit, for real. I don’t know nothing about decoration,” I said as Asif took the place in.

“This is a dope ass idea. Mad I ain’t think of this shit, but I guess it’s cool for her to like you better,” he jested.

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

“Shit.” He ran his hand over his fade. “What you need help with?”

“You serious, nigga?”

“Yeah. And I brought some more people too.” He walked back toward the entrance and waved a bit before Bashar, Lequay, Cemone, Shakur, Unique, and Khari entered. “My pops hit us up and told us to come help you out.”

“Damn. I appreciate this shit for real.” I went to dap everybody up, listening to them clamor in response, admiring the work I had done.