Page 34 of Welcome to the Table

Raven

“ Y ou really losing your fucking touch,” I heard Sokko say as he walked out of the bathroom toward me.

I only heard part of what he was saying because my mind was still on what the fuck just happened with Hellcat. My heart thumped out of my chest when he was close to me because I didn’t know whether to be turned on or scared. He didn’t scare me, but I didn’t want to say too much too soon.

“Why the fuck are you here, and what touch am I losing?” I rolled my eyes.

I hated my brother. I hated my entire family, and that’s why I ran away, but they still managed to find me everywhere I went. Something was off. I hadn’t spoken to my brother in years, and now he all of a sudden popped up? I needed answers.

“You act like you don’t know who the fuck you belong to, but one phone call would change all of that,” he told me, and my face felt hot. I didn’t need him to call our father because then my cover would be blown, and I would be dragged back to Colombia, where I didn’t want to be.

“How the fuck did you find me?” I asked him, and he gave me a cocky grin like he knew some shit that I didn’t.

Our father, Sebastian, was the brother of Fanucci, and together, they owned the Colombia Point Dawgs.

This was the third place I had come to, and the first place I was found.

When I left Colombia, I didn’t have a destination in mind, but I knew I wanted to be in the United States.

I had the hookup on getting all the paperwork that I needed for my green card, and one of my father’s men helped me escape.

I wanted no parts of the Colombian Point Dawgs, although I was born into the shit.

I wanted to live a regular life and not have to look over my shoulder or walk around with security constantly watching my every move.

I wanted to live under my own free will, but living under my father’s thumb wouldn’t allow that.

The first place I went was Florida, and I got my degree in accounting.

Then, I went to Los Angeles for my master's and decided to move down south to live. I didn’t care about having a job because every time my parents gave me money over the years, I transferred it to American dollars and had it in an account that they didn’t know about.

I had finally settled in New Orleans, and this nigga ended up finding me.

If he didn’t tell Sebastian, that meant he was here for his own personal reasons.

“Let me put you on to something. When you were born, a chip was placed inside your left hand to track your every move, but the catch is our father let me take over it when I turned eighteen. When you graduated from high school and decided to run away, I knew every place you ran to but kept my mouth shut. When I realized that you were staying in New Orleans, I knew this was my chance to get what I needed,” he told me, and I was confused.

My head started to spin, and my vision got blurry.

“A chip? What? You knew all this time and didn’t tell me, so why now? And why do you have access?” I felt like I was about to faint. What did he have to do with New Orleans? Why did he decide to stop here instead of the other places I lived?

“I gained access because I was supposed to protect you while you were in college, but you ran away. I didn’t tell Sebastian because you deserved your freedom.

All the training you went through, I knew you didn’t want any of it.

The look was always in your eyes, so I kept my mouth shut when I noticed you were gone.

I told him you didn’t want to be bothered for years until the man just stopped asking. ”

I had a look of shock on my face at this truth.

“I don’t give a fuck that you ran away, but understand that Colombian blood runs through your veins, and you know how to survive with or without a weapon.

I am only telling you because I need a favor, and I know you can do it.

You were trained to kill. Let’s not forget that,” he said, and chills ran through my body.

He was right. I was trained to kill, but I had left that life back home.

Sebastian had trained me with his men as an assassin for the family.

I didn’t understand it because they moved weight, not killed people.

They had me do that. I kept that hidden.

I didn’t tell people where I was from because my family was deadly.

One mention of their name, and I was a target, or no one talked to me.

He was right about one thing. I was a trained by the best. That didn’t mean I wanted it, though.

The gore and missions I completed, while he trained me, were inhumane.

I could perform surgery, and I wasn’t a doctor.

I could use any weapon for a kill, including my hands.

It wasn’t my choice to learn the shit, but it was forever within me.

Some of it traumatized me, but I put it in the back of my head and continued with my life.

Nightmares, depression from the innocent people’s lives ending, but for what?

Target practice. Being paranoid when around certain shit because I always felt like someone was always watching me.

“Okay, if you been following me all this time and didn’t say shit, what the fuck do you want? I finally feel safe and free, and here you come, fucking it up for me,” I told him.

It was true. Sokko would fuck up a wet dream with his presence.

I didn’t need that in my life. I’d had my fair share of hiding, and New Orleans was the one place where I didn’t have to hide because everybody I ran across was chill in their own business.

That was until I ran across Hellcat’s sexy ass.

“That same nigga who just came in here like he owned this motherfucker. I want a meeting with him,” Sokko told me, and I looked at him funny.

“Do you even know who the fuck that is?” I asked because I surely didn’t.

I kept a very low profile and only ran into him by accident.

Hellcat demanded my attention when I first ran into him.

His muscular body and long dreads with the tips dyed red, I knew he was trouble, but my type of trouble.

He probably had bitches falling at his feet, and I knew for a fact that I was older than his young ass.

He couldn’t know what to do with me. The man exuded power, or he just had the power over me.

When he came banging on my door, I took my time because Sokko had to fucking go.

It was enough that he saw us on the elevator and thought we were fucking, or that he was my man.

I was just trying to make the nigga jealous, and it worked because his blades were swinging when he noticed me grab my brother’s hand.

Little did he know, I hadn’t fucked a nigga since I touched down in New Orleans.

His little stunt at the second line and even him on the elevator that led him to my apartment turned me the fuck on, but I knew he was playing the cat and mouse game.

I loved it. I knew he wanted this pussy, but he was gon’ make me beg for the dick.

I knew his type. He was a YN, but he didn’t know the games I played. He would learn. I knew he wanted me. That was clear as day, but he wanted me to beg for his dick? Imma have that nigga on his knees, begging me.

“I know enough about that nigga to know he’s part of the Black Guerrilla Mafia, and I need to speak with him. I need you to hook that up. Get inside his mind and make him fall in love with you. Use that nigga to get info on their organization,” he said.

I snapped my neck around and looked at him. I had to make sure I didn’t drop my wine. I wasn’t going to be a pawn in his game.

“What the fuck is that? And what does that have to do with me? Playing with someone’s heart is a dangerous game.

Why couldn’t you just talk to the nigga when he was here?

You hid in the fucking bathroom like a house mouse.

I know you saw the nigga on the elevator.

You could have talked to him then,” I told him.

“He doesn’t know me, and I know he does not trust easily, but the way he looked at you, I know you could get inside his head.”

I shook my head. “Get the fuck out of my house. I told you I didn’t want any part of that life. Whatever you got to ask or tell the nigga, do it on your own time,” I told him, pointing to my front door. I meant it. I was over my past life and had moved on. I wasn’t helping do shit.

He walked over to me slow and deadly, but he knew shit from sugar. He backed me against the wall. I set my wine glass on the glass table before he could grab the front of my throat. His mouth was close to my ear.

“If you don’t fucking help me, you will regret it. Sebastian will know everything yo’ ass been doing, and I might lie and say you fucking that nigga. I saw the way he was looking at you, so I know you familiar with him,” he barked in my ear.

I laughed. This nigga must’ve forgotten who I was. I brought my arm down on him and heard his bone crack. He yelped in pain and slowly fell to the floor. I watched with a smile and squatted eye level with him.

“Don’t ever in your pea brain ass fucking mind think about putting yo’ fucking hands on me.

You said that shit before, but you must have forgotten who fucking trained me.

I don’t give a fuck what you tell our father because that mutt could get a fucking toe tag right along with you.

Now, get the fuck out of my house before I break yo’ fucking legs.

” I smiled at him before standing and fixing my robe.

He had just activated a side of me that I had left tucked because I despised being like my family. I watched as he slowly got up, and I opened the door for him to exit. He limped toward my door, never breaking eye contact, but the shit didn’t scare me. He took one last look before addressing me.

“You think we’re dangerous? Get caught up with that nigga Hellcat―he won’t spare a bone in your fucking body,” Sokko told me.

I shrugged and rolled my eyes. I didn’t give one fuck about what he was saying, and I wasn’t scared of Hellcat. I didn’t know enough about him to be afraid.

Once he was out my door, I peeked out to make sure he got on the elevator.

I’d never known my brother to act that way with me, and it kinda freaked me out, but I didn’t show it.

The one thing I remembered was him talking about a fucking implant, and now I needed to get it out.

I slammed my door, picked up my drink, and dropped onto my sofa.

His admission of everything had me speechless and confused.

I couldn’t wrap my head around what the fuck Sokko had just said.

I wanted to go up to Hellcat’s condo and tell him, but I couldn’t trust him.

Not yet. He was easy on the eyes, but I needed to know where his mind was and if it was worth telling him.

Sokko thought he would blackmail me because of our father, but it would never happen. This was the one time that I wished I had someone I could trust to talk to, but I didn’t. I came to New Orleans to escape, and just like that, my past had crept up on me like a thief in the night.