Page 24

CHAPTER 24

EARTH

“You can find this nigga?” I asked Nine, who nodded. “How long will it take?”

“Give me a few,” he said, not looking up from his computer. I can’t even lie; his fingers flew across the keyboard as he typed and all I could do was watch his ass. I was good at computers but not like this nigga. He made his living hacking shit and creating security systems. “I don’t know what weak ass security system she got, but this shit needs to be ripped from her fuckin’ walls.”

“That’ll be what you can do next.” I walked away from Nine and leaned against the wall. I was already on my way over there to watch the game and give the girls time to kick it, but when McCoy told me about Jamel’s bitch ass cousin, I was ready to snatch that nigga up.

I already had Jamel sitting in a room at Krude’s family’s warehouse. He’d been there since he ran up on McCoy at the grocery store.

“I could’ve told you her system wasn’t the best when we were at her house,” he said, and I grunted.

“Put her on your books,” I replied and Nine nodded. I knew my nigga would have McCoy’s office, house, and condo upgraded to his best system by tomorrow.

Nine’s office was nice as fuck. His desk was set in the middle of the room with big ass bay windows behind him, showing his backyard that looked like it was nothing but woods, and directly in front of him was a wall full of screens. Some showed his property while others had running codes. There was one that kept drawing my attention; it was blacked out, but every so often, a red dot would flash. When one screen stopped showing rolling codes, he let out a low whistle, then shook his head. “This nigga is bold.”

“What you mean?” I asked, pushing off the wall.

“While I was looking for his cousin, I started running background on Jamel,” Nine answered. He nodded to one of the screens, then started clicking on his keyboard. “From the outside looking in, Jamel appears to be a decent businessman. He owns two laundry mats and donates to a few local youth teams.”

“I know all that shit.”

“You know he’s married?” Nine asked and I reared back, surprised as hell. I knew Jamel wasn’t shit, but to have a wife and a fiancée shocked the shit out of me. “Her name is Sienna Douglas, thirty-four, lives down south. No family, college educated but doesn’t appear to have a job, or at least one she pays taxes on.”

“This nigga is wild.” I laughed and ran my hand over my face. “But what else can you find out?”

“Shit, what you wanna know?” He chuckled, then looked at his watch. “I got about an hour before I go show my ass real quick.”

“Where the fuck you goin’?” I asked. Knowing this nigga, he was probably about to go talk the panties off some nigga’s baby mama before he killed him.

“My business,” he vaguely answered. “Just know I’ma enjoy the fuck outta doin’ it, though.”

“If you like it, I love it.” I shrugged. “But until then, find me everything you can on this Sienna Douglas. I want all her information.” Nine nodded, then went back to beating the hell out of his keyboard. “I’ll catch you later.”

“It gets worse, Earth,” Nine called out, making me stop.

“What do you mean?”

“You know that nigga has a few life insurance policies on McCoy?” he questioned, and my face twisted in confusion. “Not only life insurance on her, but property insurance on her condo and office too.”

“How much?”

“Roughly around six million,” he answered.

“Too fuckin’ much.” I wiped my hand over my face. “How long has he had it?”

To the outside looking in, I knew it looked like he was just making sure she was all set, but I knew niggas like Jamel well. Him having insurance on her and her businesses for that much meant he had plans to make her disappear.

“Everything is new,” Nine answered. “Less than six weeks old.” He looked at me and shook his head. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but this nigga more than likely planned to kill her and collect on the money.”

“I know.” I chuckled as I grabbed my bag off the floor. “You know what? Fuck getting the information on the wife. Can you have her here by the end of the week?”

“Yeah, that can happen.”

“Have her here by Friday. Lock her in a room at Citrine’s hotel.”

“Alright.” Nine nodded.

I left Nine’s house and made my way to the warehouse where I had Jamel. On the drive over, I blasted Focus’s newest release and smoked a blunt. I had a million and one things running through my mind but the biggest one was making McCoy happy. She’d been handed a raw deal even before she linked up with Jamel. She deserved some happiness, and I was the nigga to give it to her.

When I got to the warehouse, I parked in the back and headed inside.

“What’s up, Cross?” I said, nodding at the quietest member of the DeCorte family. She looked up from her computer with her normal blank expression on her face.

“What’s up, Earth?” she replied, then went back to looking at something on her laptop. “What are you doing here?”

“Came to check on my guest,” I answered, then sat in the chair across from her. “What you been up to?”

“Working,” she replied, and I nodded. Cross usually never stayed around for long periods of time, so I was kind of surprised to see her here. This had to be the longest I’d ever known her to be around and that wasn’t saying much since it’d been less than a month since she showed her face the first time. “I visited your guest earlier today.” She looked up at me and smirked. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.” I chuckled. “You probably saved that nigga’s life.” I sat back in my seat and shrugged.

“How so?” Cross tapped her short nails against the hardwood table. The rhythmic sound was soft but relaxing. My eyes traced over the puzzle piece tattoo on her hand that led up her forearm and stopped at her elbow. It was different. Dope as fuck but still different. What caught my eye the most was the small nine on the top of her ring finger. I looked up at her and lifted my brow. “Don’t ask questions you aren’t ready to be answered.”

“What’s your story, Cross?” I asked, slightly intrigued. I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table and let out a small laugh. “Huh? Where have you been? What have you been doing?” I laughed at the sly grin that spread across her face as I asked her questions. I knew she had stories, probably some so damn gruesome it would turn my stomach, but I still wanted to know.

Cross’s computer started to beep, making her look away from me to it. Her face twisted, and for a brief second, I swear a look of fear flashed across her face before it went blank. She bit into her lip as her fingers flew across the keyboard. Every so often, her eyes would bounce from the computer to her watch, then back to her computer. “Fuck!” she yelled. She slammed down her computer screen, then pushed away from the table.

“You cool?” I asked as she snatched her jacket from the back of her chair and put it on. “You need my help with something?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. She looked at the closed computer one last time before looking at me. “I’m a killer before everything, except one thing.”

“What’s that one thing?”

Another scream sounded from one of the rooms in the warehouse. Cross looked in the direction the sound came from and smirked. Whoever was behind that scream was hurt, more than likely dying from whatever she’d done to them before I got there.

“If I told you, then it’d be you screaming like that,” she answered. “I’ll be back.”

“What about the nigga screaming in that room back there?” I asked as she walked away.

“Let’em die!” she replied, then pushed the door open. “He wasn’t useful enough to live.”

“Fuckin’ cold.” I laughed as she walked out the door.