Page 42 of Royce (Atkins Family Saga #1)

Seventeen

Royce

I t was one thing to be upset about the marriage shit but to ignore my text and calls were another.

I sat in the office at the mall calling Klarity’s phone for the umpteenth time with it continuously ringing through to the voicemail.

I was trying to let her have her space as a woman but damn.

Shit like this was what made me go crazy.

Lighting a blunt, I took a few pulls to try and calm a nigga nerves.

My kids were with her, so I was on edge more than anything.

Be mad at me for forging the marriage but damn don’t take my kids and dip out.

It wasn’t that fuckin’ serious for her to be doing all that.

She was gon’ marry me regardless so why not just get that shit out the way.

“Aye, you ain’t gon’ believe this shit. I just got word sis’ at county visiting her baby daddy,” Striker said coming through the door.

“What?” I yelled.

“Yup. Tasha said she had to escort her and the kids out ‘cause that fuck nigga was on ten. He even pulled my CJ hair. That nigga need to be put in the dirt like yesterday. Say the word and it’s handled.” Striker was gon’ offer his services each and every time.

I didn’t have to ask that nigga to ride ‘cause he was gon’ do it without question.

“Nah, I got it. Just be ready tonight.”

“Shit, I’m ready now.”

I checked Klarity’s location to see she was indeed at the jailhouse.

I scoffed before a menacing smirk pierced my lips.

I felt like she was trying me and that was gon’ end bad for her.

One thing I didn’t play about was my shit.

Her and them two lil’ humans that’s attached to her hips belonged to me and quite frankly, I didn’t like that she took them to see that pussy nigga.

He ain’t do shit when she was with him and he ain’t do shit now.

Him being able to lay eyes on my family was blowing my fuckin’ mind.

Another call was paid to her phone and two more after that. She wasn’t trying to answer the phone and that was making my blood boil. I wasn’t one to send empty threats so either she got with the program or got with the fuckin’ program ‘round this bitch. There were no other options.

Me: You avoiding me and that’s cool . I know where the fuck you been. Whether you bring yo’ ass home now or later, yo’ head still getting knocked off yo’ fuckin’ shoulders.

“What she on? Why she go see that nigga? Y’all beefing or something?” Striker was asking the same questions I wanted answers to.

“If we is, that’s new to me. I ain’t even ‘bout to focus on shawty right now. She gon’ have me out here dropping niggas just because. What the numbers looking like?” I had to change the topic, or else shit was gon’ end bad for some folk.

“They bigger and better. That new shit you copped making the streets sing. We ain’t seen the other shit yet then again that nigga was on pussy shit to begin with so selling it in the city ain’t gon’ happen.”

“I’m already knowing. You said he was from Florida. Why the fuck he all the way up here in the Springs meddling and shit? What’s his goal?” The first time I ever heard that nigga name was through Striker. Bentley wasn’t on none of The Oath’s radar.

“I asked some folk in Florida and apparently, he running shit down there. That’s all him. Why he so far away from home causing chaos? I have no fuckin’ idea. I ain’t even made the connection between him and Walt yet.”

“What’s his last name?”

“Don’t nobody know. He so quiet and ducked off it took me a minute getting his first. They say he only show face when necessary.”

If this nigga Bentley was aiming for my attention, he got it.

The fact you came to my city and took what the fuck was mine meant you been had eyes on me.

Jealousy made that nigga travel hours away from home and fuck with me.

I wasn’t understanding what the fuck I had that made him enter my territory.

He had to have loose screws or something.

Walt did his dirty work, so I was curious to know how they knew each other. Walt was from Sage Springs born and raised. He shouldn’t know shit ‘bout that nigga simply because he rarely left the city. This was bigger than a petty ass shipment and the one nigga that had the details was dead and gone.

“See if you can get his full name. I need that like today,” I said sitting up.

“Will do. Where you headed after this?”

“To the crib to wait on my wife and kids. I ain’t stepping back out till midnight or so. My aunt won’t be there until then.”

“Who? Aunt Castina?” he asked laughing.

“You know it. He had the nerve to ask me about her after I got out a few months back. That nigga still miss her.”

“Aye, it ain’t nothing like losing something you can’t replace. Just hit me when you ready.” He stood from the sofa and exited the room.

I snatched up my keys and phone before following behind him. Working wasn’t gon’ ease a nigga thoughts behind my family or my business. It was no point in sitting up here passing time when I could do that shit at home.

I made it to my whip but had a sudden urge to wreck a muthafuckas day even further.

I was right and didn’t like being ignored.

I checked My Baby’s location and saw she’d left the jailhouse and was around the corner from her crib.

I leaned against my car just to see what she was ‘bout to do. Two minutes later, she was pulling into her old shit. I couldn’t help but laugh.

I could understand dropping by to pick up some mail but as minutes passed and that icon didn’t move, I knew what was up.

“So, you leaving a nigga? Going to see him made you go back to that broom closet ass shit you called a house?” I voiced aloud.

I swiped back to the phone app and hit Striker. He answered instantly. “Yooo.”

“You got some lil’ niggas that can pull off a petty hit for me right quick?”

“How petty?”

“Go by Klarity old crib and snatch her car for me. Her dumbass ain’t answering my calls or text, and I’m really trying to keep my composure.”

“Keep it? Nigga this ain’t keeping yo’ fuckin’ composure and you know it. You ‘bout to have these niggas steal her shit so she can what?”

“Come home, call a nigga, answer my text… something! Look, I ain’t even trying to hear shit else. All I know is, she went home after visiting that fuck ass nigga so ain’t no telling what kind of bullshit she on. My daughter can’t have a good day without me bruh. I’m fuming right now.”

All I could think about was my kids. CJ was promised a day out on the tracks and Essence…

well, she needed to hear or smell me to be content.

This shit was for the birds. It wasn’t a time where anything that had my name on it wasn’t accessible.

Klarity not answering for me and taking my kids to see that nigga without my permission had me ready to hurt a few folk just to relieve my anger.

“Sis got you wildin’. When you want this shit done? I can get some young niggas on it in like five minutes. I think Caine got some at the spot.”

“That’ll work and don’t say shit to a soul. We taking this shit to the grave nigga. Let them bulls know not to touch shit but that fuckin’ car. Don’t touch my fuckin’ wife and kids, and don’t pull out no fuckin’ strap. They’ll be on a shirt by the morning,” I threatened.

“I know nigga. Let me hit Caine, and I’ll hit you right back.”

“Bet.” Hanging up, I hopped in my shit and headed to the compound.

Caine was a lieutenant that ran the south side.

He had two sergeants, five officers, and many throwaways under him.

Since Walt was gone, Caine, Brix, and Rylo were the only lieutenants left.

I had yet to appoint anyone to take his place which meant Striker handled the Eastside.

He hated it, too. I wasn’t sure on who to put in his place, so I wasn’t in a rush to make moves.

My lieutenants were supposed to be niggas we could count on but seeing how Walt switched, I wasn’t putting shit pass none of them.

I cruised through traffic listening to a local artists named Dahlia.

Besides her and Roux, the Springs really didn’t have successful talent.

Them two though had the city on their backs giving the Springs a golden light.

I was proud of them for real and they made sure to be featured on each other’s tracks, so the folk knew there was no beef.

That was how Black queens uplifted one another.

Shit, Dahlia had a show coming up that I didn’t mind taking My Baby to if she got her shit together.

By the time I pulled up to the crib, my phone was ringing.

I looked at the dashboard and read the name.

“Oh look, a muthafucka know how to call a nigga.” I let it ring through to the voicemail as I chuckled.

Seem like her shit wasn’t dead, broken, or tripping.

She called me just fine. She called again and I was tempted to let that bitch go to the voicemail one more time.

However, I knew my babies were with her, too, so I answered.

“Wassup, My Baby,” I answered as if nothing was wrong.

“Royce, some good for nothing young ass niggas just stole my car!” she shouted.

My cheeks hiked as a smile stretched from ear to ear. I was satisfied. “Can’t nobody steal yo’ car, My Baby, ‘cause can’t nobody get on the compound but family.”

“I-I’m not at home, Royce,” she replied hesitantly.

“What you mean? You said you was going to yo’ aunt daycare then coming to the house. That was hours ago, Ma.” I was baiting her in like a muthafucka. I knew where the fuck she been, so it was better for her to tell me than for me to bring it up.

“You asking all these questions when I just told you my car was stolen is fuckin’ crazy. My car is gone, Royce!”

“I heard you the first time. Where you at?”