Page 3 of Obsessive Love

PYRITE

One year later …

Thunder clapped as I moved through my office. Citrine sat across from my desk, his attention on his phone; Amethyst was asleep on my couch. He’d just gotten back into town and finally crashed.

“No word from Cross?” Citrine asked without looking up from his phone.

“Nine said give her ten,” I answered, and he nodded.

I leaned on the glass wall to look at the city.

My office was on the top floor of the arena; below me was my empire.

I’d spent nearly twenty years building my shit from the ground up and had no intention of stopping any time soon.

I wanted my grandchildren’s grandchildren to understand what generational wealth meant and be the recipients of it.

“Then give her three,” he laughed. “She knows what this means to you, and no matter how much I respect Nine, his wife is better than he is.”

“He’d crash out if he heard you say that.

” I laughed, and Citrine shrugged. I looked over at Amethyst and sighed.

I was worried about my brother. He was chasing a ghost he’d created to prove a point, and I feared he was losing.

I’d seen him less than six times over the last year.

He was only here now because Citrine had gone to get him.

If he hadn’t, there was no telling when the next time we’d see him would be.

“Probably,” Citrine replied. He sat back in his seat, crossed his ankles, and watched me. “You ready to tell me what your problem is?”

“Something isn’t sitting right in my soul,” I truthfully answered, and Citrine lifted his brow in surprise.

I ran my hand over my mouth and licked my lips.

“I can't explain it, but I can feel the energy shifting around me. I’m restless all the time.” I blew out a breath and chuckled. “I know the shit sounds weird.”

“Nah,” Citrine denied as he shook his head. “I get it. Trust me.”

My cell phone rang, and I looked at my watch to see Cross' name on the display. I crossed the space from the windows to my desk and picked up my phone.

“What’s good, sis?” I said as I sat.

“He’s in Texas,” Cross said, getting straight to the point. “There’s a problem, though.”

“Xayne St. Thomas?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. Xayne had made it clear to all of us that Javien was on his list, but shit was going to have to change.

“You already know,” she laughed. “He has the address.”

“How did he get it before me?” I questioned.

“He contacted me,” she said. “Call him.”

“Bet,” I replied. We hung up, and I pulled up Xayne’s contact information and called him. Xayne St. Thomas was a man many wished they knew and even more feared. Legally, he was a business owner; illegally, he was the loan shark who sent his killer daughter after you with no remorse.

“What can I do for you, Pyrite?” he answered.

“How much is Javien’s debt to you?” I said, getting straight to the point.

“He doesn’t owe me money. He has a hands problem that was brought to my attention,” he answered. “Is the money a bigger demand than justice?”

“I’ve seen the videos, which is why I am collecting,” I answered, and he grunted. “He owes me, but I told him he couldn’t bring issues to my organization.”

“You took too long to make moves,” Xayne sighed. “Was the money that important?”

“The money is what brought him to me,” I replied.

“Youngblood, what was the first thing I said to you when you were young and trying to make a name for yourself?”

“Never put money on the table that you can’t afford to get back,” I replied.

“Right, the money he owes should’ve been the last thing you worried about because of the videos.

” He blew out a breath, and I knew he was smoking.

“I been watching him move through Texas like he’s that nigga for almost two weeks.

I could’ve snatched him the first night, but I didn’t.

I wanted to see what he had his hand in. ”

“Which is?” If Xayne was interested, that meant that whatever Javien was up to was worth the wait.

“Nothing worth my time,” he said with a chuckle. “He’s hiding out but still moving sloppily.” He flicked his lighter and took another inhale. “Now the question is, who will reach him first?”

“My plane is waiting for me,” I laughed. “But I know that isn’t going to stop you from moving.”

“It won’t,” he agreed. “But I’ll meet you in the middle. I’ll give you a head start and then send Xoey. She’s been itching at the bit to make some moves, and it's only so many times I’ll be able to tell her no before she takes matters into her own hands.”

“Xoey wants him, too?” I asked.

“Yeah, something about one of the women in his videos being a friend of hers,” he said. “You know how my daughter is regarding her friends.”

“I do,” I said, nodding. “Send me the location.”

“The address is sent,” he replied, and I nodded. “Oh, and Pyrite?”

“Yeah?”

“If Xoey gets to him first, leave it be,” he warned. “Our friendship may span years, but my daughter will always come first. You understand?”

“Yeah,” I said, then hung up. My phone buzzed, indicating I had a text, before I set it down, and I turned to Citrine. “Xayne gave me a two-hour head start to get to Texas.”

“Xoey’s going, too?” he asked, and I shook my head. “You might as well just stay put.”

“Nah, he’s giving me a head start,” I answered as I stood. “He said that Javien had one of her friends on video.”

“And Xoey took that shit personally,” he sighed. “I don’t even feel sorry for that nigga.”

“Not even close,” I said with a chuckle. “But he ain’t gonna have to worry about Xoey because I’ll get my hands on him first, and when I do, he will wish she was the one who showed up.” I grabbed my phone and keys and rounded my desk. “Can you hit Phil and tell him I’m on the way to the airport?"

“Yeah,” Citrine answered. “Be safe.”

“Always.” I dapped him up and then left my office.

The flight to Dallas was less than two hours, but that was more than enough time to plan out how I was going to torture Javien.

Xayne may not have cared about the money; he was a millionaire more times over than I could count, so I understood why he wasn’t worried.

Money came and went, but respect was timeless.

My driver pulled up to the address I’d received from Xayne, got out, rounded the car, and opened my door.

I dapped Albert up and then checked my surroundings.

The neighborhood was vastly different from the one in which Javien lived.

Houses sat empty while others had people moving in and out of them.

I wasn’t out of my element; I’d grown up in a place just like this.

My pop ran the streets, hustling and trying to keep a roof over our heads, while my Mama worked as a secretary at the neighborhood elementary school.

While they worked, my brothers and I ran the streets.

Citrine boxed, spending his time in underground boxing rings, first as a fighter, then as the one running it.

He’d beat niggas to death with his bare hands by the time he was thirteen.

I was a numbers nigga; I saw every opportunity to make money at every turn.

If it moved, I stole it and then sold it, which eventually got me into rooms with niggas with a lot of money to lose, and I was always willing to collect.

Amethyst was a science nigga; we tried to keep him out of the streets, but all it took was one body, and little bro’s eyes lit up with interest. His life options were serial killer or doctor.

He chose the latter, but at times, I even questioned that.

I took my time walking to the house. When I got to the front door, I turned the handle and let out a small laugh.

When it turned, I let myself in, whistling at the layout; shit was a fucking mess.

The living room was filled with junk, a few crackheads, and a nigga that I wasn’t sure was dead or not, which didn’t matter to me.

I made my way through the house, checking each room before I lucked up and found Javien asleep in the smallest room on a dirty ass mattress.

I approached him, lifted my foot, and stomped down onto his chest with all my might. “Wakey, wakey, bitch nigga.”

“Fuck!” he wheezed as he gasped for air and turned to his side. I watched as he coughed and struggled to breathe. There was a good chance I cracked his sternum, but I didn’t give a fuck.

“You thought you could hide from me?” I laughed as I shook my head.

“Nigga, did you think I was playing when I said I would always collect my fucking money?” I kicked him in the face, making his head snap back, and blood poured from his nose.

“I told you the day you signed your contract that you either pay me my fucking money or lose your damn life?” I kicked him in the chest again.

“Why the fuck am I in a crack house, Javien?”

“Wait, Pyrite,” he moaned and coughed. “Wait.”

“No, nigga.” I grabbed his shirt and dragged him from the small room through the living room and right out of the house. “I waited long enough.” My driver opened the car’s trunk, and I threw Javien into it. “Time’s up, hoe.”

“I can pay you!” he screamed. “I can get you the money.”

“No, you can’t, “I laughed.

“My sister has the money!”

“Melissa is dead, nigga,” I kissed my teeth.

“My other sister!” he yelled and coughed. “Fable! She has the money.”

“You better hope she does,” I said, then slammed the trunk closed.

“You want to find the sister?” Albert asked. He opened my door and waited.

“I already have the address,” I answered as I got in the car. I sent him the address to Fable’s bakery and relaxed in my seat. Javien screamed and banged against the trunk, but I didn’t give a fuck. Nigga could yell all he wanted; he was still going to die.

“A bakery?” Albert verified after he got in.

“Yeah,” I answered.

Thirty minutes later, we got out at ‘Story Time.’ The light blue and cream building was nice and packed. I entered the building, and instantly, my mouth watered. It smelled good as hell.

“Welcome to Story Time,” a short, thick woman said as she moved through the room.

I felt like a creep-ass nigga as I watched her clean one table only to move to another.

She spoke to every person that she passed and smiled at a few niggas, which had me ready to tear this whole fucking building down.

Her skin was the color of melted chocolate, with a round face, thick lips, a round nose, big expressive eyes, and a head full of curls.

She was trying to hide her curves behind a pair of mom jeans, a fitted Queens T-shirt, and a light blue apron.

“Hi, what can I get you?” a short, pretty woman asked when I approached the counter.

“What’s y’all specialty?” I asked. I usually wasn’t into sweets, but something told me that I wouldn’t regret the shit that I tried here. I shook my head. “That doesn’t even matter. What’s the lady who just walked through those doors’ favorite thing to eat?”

“The chocolate chip cookies and lemon drops,” she answered with a laugh.

“Bet, give me whatever’s left of both,” I said, nodding.

Her eyes ballooned in surprise before she nodded and then rang me up.

I didn’t even think twice about the two-hundred-dollar total.

I handed her my card, and she swiped it and returned it to me with the receipt.

I gave her another two hundred dollars as a tip and returned my card to my wallet.

“It’s going to take me a minute to box your cookies; what’s the name I need to put on the box?” she asked.

“Pyrite Stone,” I answered. “And I ain’t rushing you, shorty.

I’ll be over there waiting.” I moved out of the way so she could ring up the other customers and waited.

The woman from earlier came back out, and our eyes locked.

She was fine as fuck, no questions asked.

The cashier tried to get her attention, but her eyes were locked on me.

I licked my lips, slowly let my eyes sweep over her, and then smirked.

The cashier calling her name was the only thing that broke our eye contact.

She turned to the woman, listened to what she said, and then started helping her.

I watched as she packed my shit up, set it next to the cashier, then went back to the back.

“Here you go, Mr. Stone,” the cashier said, handing me my box. “Thank you for coming.”

“I’ll see you around, lil mama,” I said, nodding.

“You don’t even know if you like the cookies,” she laughed. Shorty wasn’t flirting with me, which was a welcome interaction. “You could hate them.”

“Nah, if Shorty in the back loves them, then I know they're good,” I replied.

“Fable is picky, so I guess you’re right,” she said, nodding. “Again, thank you for coming, and I’ll see you later.”

“Be safe, lil mama,” I said as I opened the box and looked inside.

The cookies and lemon drops looked good as fuck.

I left the bakery, gave Albert a nod that he returned, and got in the car.

Javien sat in the back seat, tied up, and I chuckled.

This was the reason I fucked with Albert heavily; he didn’t need instructions.

He knew how to move, and I respected that shit.

I got comfortable and stared down Javien.

“You said your sister will pay off your debt?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Fable will pay it. I need to tell her who to make the payments to.”

“I don’t want her money,” I said, shaking my head.

“Then what do you want?” he had the nerve to ask, and I laughed. “Whatever it is, it’s yours.”

“Oh, I know,” I said as I took a cookie from the box and examined it to ensure none of the lemon bars had gotten on it before taking a bite. I had to give it to Fable; this shit was good as fuck. I understood why it was her favorite.

“Name it,” Javien excitedly said.

“Fable,” I answered, watching the blood drain from his face. I took another bite of my cookie and set the box next to me. “The payment for your debt is your sister.”