Page 42

Jamal and I get out of the car, passing Malik’s car. I know that Janel rode over with him, and I know that wherever the fuck they’re hiding right now, they’ve got us in their sights.

Parker gets out of his car, placing his gun in the back of his waistband. He’s looking around suspiciously as we all step up toward the former site of the Hovel.

Charred wood and scraps of metal are all that remain of the former shack.

Jamal kicks what looks like to have been a doorknob and asks, “Thinking about building on this same site?”

“Nah. I’ve been talking to a couple of architects and a project manager over at Gray Construction Management. We’re looking at another property on the outskirts of town. It’ll be a useful place for business and handling business,” I explain, referencing Denver’s construction firm.

“Where’s everybody?” Parker asks as we pass up the rubble and debris from the Hovel.

“Right back there.” I point to where a bonfire has been set up.

From where we’re standing, we can see the fire and see Malik standing and facing a chair. A large board has been erected behind the chair, but we can’t see who’s in the chair.

Parker walks past Jamal and me, eager, I’m sure, to meet whomever we’ve got hemmed up for questioning about Ghalen’s death. The moment that he rounds that large board and comes up on the chair, he stops and stares at Malik, before looking back at Jamal and me.

“The fuck’s going on here?” he asks, pointing to an empty chair as Jamal and I approach.

I see the minute when recognition dawns in his eyes that this is a setup. He quickly reaches for the gun in his waistband. There are three guns aimed at him: Malik, who is standing behind him; Jamal, who’s stepping away from beside me; and Janel, who steps from behind a tree.

“Zaire?”

“Nah, chief. You big dog in town. Tell me what the fuck you thought you were doing, setting me up the way you’ve been doing all year. Not to mention my family. You see, I can handle most shit, but when it comes to my family and the Fab Five, you know that shit hurts deep. So, what’s up?”

“I don’t know who you’ve been talking to—”

“Nigga, I don’t need to talk to anybody to know your bitch ass behind the attacks on me, my family, my businesses, and my friend. How you gon’ do some shit like that, dawg? Ghalen, nigga?”

Parker’s jaw clenches before he responds to me. “That was meant for your bitch ass. You don’t run shit, nigga.”

Removing the cufflinks from my sleeves, I roll them up before I remove the Patek Philippe watch from my arm.

“Hold this.” I hand my watch to Jamal, who takes it and steps back a little bit.

“If you plan to kill me, nigga, then do that shit. We ain’t gotta have no long discussion or peace talks. This ain’t the UN, and you ain’t the fucking president of the United States. I know you wanna believe you run shit,” he seethes, reaching toward his waist.

I hear three distinct guns cocking.

“Nigga, before you pull that gun from your waistband, these niggas will blow your head off and leave brain matter on my Stefano Ricci shirt Bay bought me. I wouldn’t want to explain that shit to her, so I suggest you remove your hand from your waistband.”

I can tell his bitch ass doesn’t want to, but he does.

“The fuck you want, Zaire.”

“I’ma tell you what I don’t want. I don’t wanna know why my boy of thirty-three years betrayed the fuck out of me, not when he’s my right hand and making bank alongside me. I don’t wanna know why he thinks I’m holding shit back when niggas around here feel like they owe me their lives.”

“You think this city is your fucking kingdom,” he sneers.

“Nah, I know this was a city that needed leadership. I came and did that shit. I’m the one who has flooded this place with jobs, established businesses in my name and my girl’s name, and loaned business loans without interest to other people who needed someone to believe in them.

Me! I did this shit, not you! And you want to take it away from me?

” I ask, dialing my voice and tone down a bit.

I step so close to Parker that the tips of our Italian loafers are touching.

“I treated you like my brother, Parker. You didn’t have to do that shit. Turn shit over to the cops to fuck with my businesses, have my woman kidnapped, have my boy killed. What the fuck is your problem?”

“Your dumb ass fucked over one of the most powerful women in this town. It was a no-brainer that people were going to get behind her for mayor. Your ass should have been looking to have her in your pocket, but you didn’t.

I stepped up where your ass tripped up. You’ve settled for a kingdom here in Chicora Falls, and I was about to build a fucking empire along the Southeastern coast.”

I move my gun from inside my jacket and shoot him in the shoulder, the right arm, and then in the thigh before he can move a muscle.

“Fuck!” he screams, writhing on the ground and trying to get up.

I extend my hand, and Janel hands me a syringe.

“Parker, this is succinylcholine. It’s a neuromuscular blocking agent that’s gonna paralyze your muscles. Can you guess what I’m gonna be doing while you’re paralyzed?” I ask, injecting the syringe into his arm that’s been shot.

“Fuck you!” he grits out.

“I’ll be sitting here checking my email and making more money moves. I’m gonna be signing contracts and expanding my legitimate operations. That’s what bosses do. Niggas run around talking big shit and not doing a goddamn thang!”

“Fuck. You!” he grits out again.

“And you . . . well, you’ll be burning alive in that nice big bonfire our team has built.”

I see the fear and panic in his eyes as the drug begins to take hold.

“Your dumb ass has no idea you’ve got a traitor in your own damn house. Helping me to take over your shit.”

“The fuck? What you just say to me?” I demand.

Parker starts shaking just before he stops. “Ri . . . Riley,” he coughs out.

“Toss his bitch ass in the fire!” I shout, jumping up.

I pull out my phone, taking several paces away from him, while Malik and Jamal lift Parker from the ground and toss him into the fire.

“Janel, call Lucian and tell him to get my house on lockdown and keep a close eye on my boys and Bayleigh!”

“Gotcha, Bossman!”

Parker’s shrill screams fill the air, followed soon by the acrid smell of burning flesh. There’s only a four to six-minute window during which the drug will keep him paralyzed. When it begins to wear off, I’m sure he’ll be dead or close enough to it.

“Bay!”

“Hey, baby. I need to talk to you. There’s—”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, but Riley—”

“Is a fucking traitor! Is she there?”

“No! She was talking crazy about her and somebody taking over your empire, and then she left.”

“Parker. She’s fucking around with Parker. Did she say where she was going?”

“Parker? Is that who’s behind this?”

“Lock the house up and set the alarm. Get the boys in, and y’all stay your asses there. You hear me?”

“Yeah!”

“I gotta go. Lucian is about to put y’all on lockdown, so chill ‘til you see me.”

“Okay, you’re scaring me.”

“Bayleigh, I love you. I ain’t gon’ let shit happen to you or those boys again.”

“Okay. I love you too.”

I end the call and turn to watch that muthafucka die while I smoke a blunt. When he’s finished, I’m finished, and I head to the car.

“Janel! Malik! Y’all got this shit?”

“Handle your business. We’re holding it down here,” Malik answers as Jamal comes to join me.

“Where to?”

“Essence’s office.”