Page 32

Rico checks his twin glocks for the fifth time before making sure the clip to his AR is full. His eyes have been dead since we got to the desert, but I know to give him space. All of this shit is personal, too personal for him, and we never got to go to POD to get into the Cages.

But at least he’ll get to satisfy that bloodlust tonight.

“The only guards that are armed are the ones on the lower levels. Rico and Prince, y’all got like thirty minutes to take them out.”

“We only need twenty.”

Prince takes his toothpick out his mouth and motions pulling the trigger at me, making YT snicker.

“Well, whenever you give the signal, me and YT will start on the main level. Mekhi and them should join us then, right?”

YT nods, still strapping clips and uzis to her legs under her gown. She’s got on this black wig that made me do a double take when she first slapped it on like it was a hat.

“If I walk in there with my hair it doesn’t matter what mask I wear, they’ll know it’s me.”

She shrugs as she starts shifting it, but it still looks a little lopsided.

Rico pulls her into his lap and gets out a comb from his pocket. In five minutes, he has her looking way better, not a hair out of place.

“Since when do you know how to style wigs?” YT asks.

Rico shrugs, handing her the small comb.

“Practice makes perfect.”

The partition rolls down, and Reem smirks at YT before shifting to me.

“We two minutes out for the first stop.”

“Remie Pooh, don’t tell me you’re jealous,”

YT purrs, but Reem just rolls the partition back up without replying to her.

“That nigga ain’t stunting you, sis.”

Prince shakes his head as he stands to wrap his homemade bomb vest around him.

“Let it go. You can’t shit where you eat.”

YT slides off Rico’s lap and folds her arms like she’s finna have a tantrum.

“He can be with me or be ended by me. Those are his only choices.”

The car stops and Rico and Prince hop out into the desert night. Our earpieces crackle to life as YC grumbles.

“You die, I’ll kill you.”

Prince chuckles.

“Ain’t no Cain without Abel, nigga.”

YT fluffs out her gown right before we pull into the roundabout. I step out first, before helping her onto the cobblestone driveway, and after security pats me down, we’re ushered into a grand ballroom.

They got women hanging from the ceiling contorting their bodies and shit. Topless waitresses passing out champagne flutes. People of all colors and ages dressed up, fondling the women so clearly marked as merchandise.

And in the middle of the floor, surrounded by big niggas, is one of the Mathers brothers; the third oldest, Quincy.

There’s five of them–seven, if you count Qionte and YT’s ex nigga Qiari, who are rotting in hell. All got Q names like they a boy band. And each one sicker than the last.

After Set killed Qi, they switched up their whole operation, and now there’s never more than two brothers at the same place. Niggas move like the president, but when human trafficking is a multibillion dollar industry and you’re trying to hold onto the top spot, you’ll do whatever.

“If Quincy is right there, who do you think is downstairs?”

I murmur to YT.

She grabs a flute, but it’s more for decoration than anything.

“I guess we’ll see soon.”

“It’s Quinton. Wanna say hi to my sister?”

Prince cackles over the nigga’s screams before they turn wet.

YT lights up as she turns to me.

“It’s showtime, dy.”

There’s commotion and faded gunshots in the back of us. The security guards around Quincy start moving him toward the back, until some niggas enter and start blocking that exit off.

YT rips the skirt of her dress off, grabbing one of the uzis taped to her leg. She hands it to me before grabbing the other, aiming at the ceiling, and letting off a few rounds.

The partygoers all duck and begin running toward the exits. Quincy turns toward us as I start picking off his security guards.

YT is having a blast, counting the number of random people that drop as she fires all around us.

“You better drop to the ground if you wanna make it to tomorrow,”

she sings, but no one can hear her over the gunfire.

The last of the armed guards drops as Mekhi Young comes to stand next to YT. Only then does she stop to beam up at him.

Mekhi’s men grab Quincy from the crowd he was trying to blend into and drag him to us. They force him on his knees, arms outstretched in front of her.

She snatches her wig off and combs through her platinum hair with her fingers. Quincy’s eyes stretch, as hate and fear war in them.

“Qiari should have snapped yo fucking neck!”

he says before spitting on her.

I go to step but Mekhi grips my arm to keep me back.

“Hold him still, please,”

her childlike voice sings out. She caresses his face, making the nigga tremble more and more until it looks like he’s about to shit himself.

“Oh, Quincy. Sweet little, green-eyed Quincy. How many times has someone told you they love your eyes?”

Her hands move to cup his cheeks, still sliding up until her thumbs rest on either side of his eyes.

“So very pretty,”

she murmurs.

The scream the wrenches out of him sounds demonic, and when his left eye bulges out of its socket I turn to look away. I’m not finna throw up around these niggas.

Rico and Prince stroll in with the other Mathers brother casually on Rico’s shoulders. He glances at YT and Quincy before smirking at me. When he steps into the light, I see the dried blood on his neck and I must grimace because he chuckles.

“You need to grow out of that.”

I wave him off as he passes me to dump Quinton by his brother.

YT hands the nigga’s eyes and what looks like his tongue to Prince, who slides them in his pocket. Only then, does she wipe his spit off her face.

“Four down, three to go.”

“The girls are secure?”

“Yeah. We can be out.”

YT hugs Mekhi before skipping out ahead of us. Prince taps on his phone, activating the vest on the brother before we make it outside. There’s dead bodies everywhere, the valets and other patrons that were standing outside. All complicit in the Mathers organization. All aiding to the kidnap and selling of women and children.

As we drive off back toward Kenton, I turn and see the mansion going up in flames.

“Stunning, isn’t it?”

I glance at Prince, who’s staring in wonder at the burning building as well.

“Fire can be just as cleansing as water. The violence of it all, makes way for something beautiful to rise out of the ashes.”

“And what will come of this?”

I can’t help but ask this philosophical nigga.

But he just lifts his shoulder and gets back on his phone.

“It’s too early to tell.”