All the Kings Men, page 17
Shorty had his full attention. “Like what?” Throne asked, as he sat forward.
“Like when he would be back in town and if I could call and get him here. Shit like that. I don’t want them coming back to look for me. That nigga looked crazy as fuck and the chick he was with, I don’t too much trust her either.”
“Do you have names?” he asked.
She shook her head. “Not really. She called him M and he called her T. Oh—wait. When they were arguing downstairs after I tried to run to get my gun, I heard him yell Natasha.”
“What she look like?” Prime asked.
Braychelle was clearly frustrated. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other then yelled for Joy to go sit by the bay.
“Shit, I don’t really remember.”
Throne couldn’t be sure that M was Mali but he for damn sure knew there was only one person Natasha could be. Throne grabbed his cell and pulled up a recent picture of Natasha from her website’s page.
“Is this the woman he was with?” he asked Braychelle.
She nodded. “Yeah, that’s her. It was weird because when we were fighting, she was kicking my ass until I went to grab at her shirt. That’s when she freaked out and backed up off me and I was able to get my gun.”
Prime and Throne looked at one another then back at Braychelle, wondering what that had to do with what we were talking about.
“And?” Throne asked.
“Well, it’s odd as fuck, but she had some kind of marks on her, like burns or some shit.”
His heart slammed into his chest just as it did anytime he laid eyes on Natasha. Throne couldn’t put my finger on it, but something about the woman creeped him out. Word had it that she was Jaded’s family so he always thought that maybe that was the reason they resembled so much.
Prime stood then moved closer to Braychelle. “Say that again,” he ordered.
Braychelle clammed up then backed away from him. But he reached out then snatched her to him by her arm. Her daughter screamed out for her causing her son to stir and cry.
“What? What did I say?” the young woman cried, completely oblivious to what was happening.
“Did you just say Natasha had burns on her back?”
“I-I-I don’t know really. I only got a little bit of her shirt up. I was just trying to get that crazy bitch off me. It could have been anything. I don’t know,” she whined.
Throne stood. “Let her go, Prime. Let her go. I got a box of money that belongs to Screwface under the bar next to the bottles of Remy. Give that to her. Get her out of here, then meet me at the warehouse.”
Chapter 21: Natasha
When I finally woke up, everything that made me human ached. At first, I didn’t know where I was. It took me a minute to register that I was in someone’s basement that had been turned into a bedroom. The queen-sized bed I was in was comfortable, but I could tell I wasn’t in my own bed. A thick, black comforter was folded down and a white sheet covered me. Looking at the clock on the nightstand, I realized I’d been out for hours. I tried to sit up, but the pain in my side removed that option. I groaned then lay back down.
“Stay laying down. The doc said that cut was pretty deep.”
I jerked and almost fell out of the bed. I turned toward the darkest part of the room to where the voice had come from. The light next to the table came on, and I realized Mali was in the room. He was dressed down, sweats and no shirt. His eyes were red and the expression on his face stoic.
“How long have I been out?” I asked.
“Few hours. Long enough for me to make that two-hour drive to Chattanooga and come back.”
I sighed. “So Uncle Lo killed the twins?”
Mali shook his head once. “No.”
“So why were you in Tennessee? I told Uncle Lo that if the twins did it, no one could pinpoint you to the location—”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s handled.”
I tried to sit up again. It took me a minute, but I managed. I gazed at Mali, kind of annoyed by his nonchalant attitude.
“Do you not realize you’re hot right now? Three of the men who you used to run with are now dead.”
“Two. Who said I killed Magnolia? And I didn’t kill Screwface.”
“Well if you didn’t kill him, what was the point of going to Chattanooga?”
Mali looked at me like I was annoying him with my questions. He scratched his head, cocked it to the side then shook it.
After throwing the covers back, I gingerly placed my feet on the cool floor. “I don’t care that you’re annoyed right now. I had a perfectly good plan, Mali, and it would keep you out of trouble if trouble comes looking for you.”
I tried to stand and instantly regretted it. A sharp pain ripped through my side and made me inhale so hard that my breath got caught in my throat.
“That’s what yo ass get for nagging as soon as you wake the fuck up,” Mali quipped.
If I could have, I would’ve thrown a pillow at him.
“Shut up,” I said barely above a whisper.
He chuckled. “Travis got you good, huh?”
I sat back down. “You met the twins?”
Mali nodded. “Yup, and after we handled business, I punched Travis in his throat for stabbing you. Had heard of them in prison anyway. I just didn’t know I’d meet them. They did good, too. Not to mention that I had some prison wolves to run through.”
I nodded, feeling kind of sentimental that Mali still protected me in his own little way. “How do you know it was him?”
“I asked which had done it, and he confessed.”
It was clear that the twins were a different breed of young men.
“And prison wolves?”
“Yeah.”
I waited on him to say more but he didn’t. Mali got up and walked to the bathroom. I waited until he finished handling his business. While he was in there, I struggled to get my cell from the small nightstand. I’d missed calls from my PI. I checked my texts to see that he’d said Braychelle had gone to talk to Throne. But that had been more than four hours ago. After texting him to get an update, I put my phone on the bed.
I looked down at my injury. Someone had sewn me up and bandaged me well. I was grateful for that. I just wished they’d given me some pains meds to go along with it. Mali came out of the bathroom and sat on the bed behind me.
“What did you do to Magnolia and what are prison wolves?” I asked.
“I wish you would stop asking me all these gotdamned questions, getting on my fucking nerves,” he said in a low and even tone.
“If you had done what I suggested I wouldn’t have to ask the questions.”
“I ain’t know shit about your plan for me to stay behind for one. For two, I do what the fuck I want, when I want.”
I tried to turn but winced. So instead, I picked up a pillow and tossed it backwards. It didn’t do shit to him because the pain in my side would only allow me so much freedom of movement, but it was all I had at the moment. He opened the top drawer of the dresser on his side of the bed then pulled out some pills.
“Vicodin,” he said then handed me one and a water bottle that had been sitting up there.
“Where’d you get these?”
“Tasha, chill with all the questions. Take the pills.”
“Why are you being an ass?” I snapped then snatched the pill and water bottle out his hand.
He didn’t answer. He walked across the room and flipped the light back off. I watched him pull his sweats off then get in bed. Even in the shadows, his manhood drew attention. I swallowed, remembering what it felt like on my tongue. The powerful stride of his thighs forced me to take a deep breath and get a hold of my over imaginative vagina. I took the pill then relaxed.
It took me a whole ten minutes to move and maneuver so I could lie back. Mali pulled the sheet up to cover his lower half. He had his ankles crossed and hands propped behind his head. I noticed he always slept that way. Always on his back and always alert. He would wake up at the sound of a fly pissing on cotton.
“When we found Magnolia, he was abusing a little girl. Shit fucks with me. I don’t like it. Reminds me of when we had to take care of the nigga who was fucking with you,” he finally said.
I frowned then sighed. “I hope you cut his dick off.”
“That little girl is dead.”
I whipped my head to look at him. “What? Why? What happened?”
“When we rushed in to get him, while trying to run, his foot connected with her face and caused her head to slam into an old ass TV that had been on the floor.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah.”
“We had to kill the adults we found in that house. A woman selling children, some drug addicts fucking laying around. Shit was messy as fuck, but that little girl man…that little girl…”
I couldn’t turn over but wished I could. I wanted to comfort him. There was hurt in his voice mixed with a little sadness and regret.
“I’m sorry, Mali,” I said.
“I know it’s fucked up that I feel something for that girl with what I did to Powder’s kids, but just something about the way she screamed…she was scared but relieved at the same time…like she had been going through that shit for so long. I saw your face for a second…shit fucked me up.”
He was right. I really didn’t understand the method to his madness behind the death of the little girl especially because of what he had done to Powder’s children. Then again, he did tell me he’d killed the children in their sleep. I guess looking into the eyes of the child being killed would make it different. I didn’t know, but I knew by the tone of his voice that he hadn’t meant for that little girl to die. I guess that talk I’d had with him about not killing anymore children must have resonated with him.
I couldn’t turn on my side so I laid my hand on his thigh.
“Wasn’t your fault, Mali,” I told him.
“That nigga Magnolia was fucked up in the head. So, I made sure the wolves showed him how it felt.”
“What do you mean?”
“After we fucked him up, we locked him in the room with them three niggas. I got to hear him fight for his manhood, be violated against his will like all the children he hurt. Once the three of them got done with him, we left him in that house laying in his own blood and shit. We tipped the cops off that some pedophilic, child molesting rapist was getting street justice.”
I fought the pain in my side to sit up a bit so I could look at him better. The blinds on the small window above the bed was open so a stream of light from outside shone through.
“They raped him?” I asked.
Mali looked at me but didn’t answer. His eyes were red and sometimes it was as if he looked passed me even though his eyes were on mine. It was like his mind was in another place and time.
“Revenge is a dish best served cold,” he said.
“And since you didn’t kill him, that means he’ll go to prison and end up in that kind of environment every day.”
“I’ma make sure of it,” Mali said.
We lay there next to one another. Silence enveloped us. It had been less than a week that Mali had been out, and I felt as if it had been a lifetime. So much had happened in so little time. And yet I felt as if there were still some parts of Mali that I didn’t know. I felt there were some things that he would never reveal to me. I kept trying…wanting to get those ten years we lost back.
“Will you move to the other side of the bed?” I asked.
“Why?”
“So, I can lay on your chest.”
He glanced down at me but moved to the other side. I laid my head on his chest and relaxed when he wrapped an arm around me. I felt the pill start to kick in. The pain was subsiding, and my head had that floating in space feeling. We stayed that way for a long while until my hands traveled down the plains of his abs to take him in my hand. Pain and injury be damned. I hadn’t had sex in a long time and Mali had voodoo dick.
The length and thickness of it soothed me. It was powerful, especially when I felt it grow in my hand. When he grunted then dipped his head to kiss me, I knew we were on the same wavelength. I had to get on top because having Mali in control was sure to rip the stitches and reopen my wound.
Mali’s guttural grunts and moans settled into the base of my spine and gave me energy, a feeling that I couldn’t explain. Yeah the motherfucker was rough and primal in his aggression, but there was that tiny thing about him…the way he kept eye contact with me while I caught each thrust he gave and threw it back at him…Or it could have been the way he massaged my breasts, gripping my ass and hips while telling me how fucking beautiful he thought I was that made all that roughneck shit he did balance out just right.
I’d never been so excited, turned on and anxious all at the same time—but when that nigga’s dick pulsed and throbbed inside of me, I damn near forgot I’d been injured as I lost myself in the waves of his sex. Sex with that nigga was indeed amazing.
***
“Throne wants to meet up,” he said after he helped me to wash up.
It was about an hour later and Uncle Lo had dropped off some Popeyes so Mali and I sat in bed, eating. I was sure the afterglow of our fucking showed on my face.
“For what?” I asked while spreading honey on my biscuit.
“I ain’t too sure yet.”
“You agreed to it?”
Mali nodded. “Yup. Need to see what this nigga has to say.” Mali bit into a piece of chicken then looked at me.
“Who did those drugs, guns, and money come from that day, Mali?” I asked.
He studied me then kept eating. He looked down at his food, picking through it absentminded before looking back up at me.
“Uncle Lo’s.”
I stopped chewing and gawked at him. “What?”
Mali wiped his mouth with a napkin then propped his arm on his raised knee. “I was stupid as fuck back then. Like for real stupid. This was before I even knew Uncle Lo was who he was, you feel me? Throne and Prime and them niggas never told us exactly who we were stealing from you know, but after I got locked up, Unk let me know how bad I’d fucked up.”
Finally getting it, I nod. “That’s why you never opened your mouth about how they set you up.”
“Yup. Shit would have fell back on Unk Lo and I couldn’t have that. Mama and KD needed him. I did some stupid shit and had to atone for it.”
I bit into my biscuits. “So why didn’t Uncle Lo go after them?”
“Cuz… that nigga Throne pulled a bait and switch.”
“A what?”
“A bait and switch. I wasn’t supposed to steal Uncle Lo’s shit. I was supposed to take from the Koreans, but how Throne and Prime set that shit up, they actually intercepted the Koreans shipment. Gave that shit to the Italians and the Jews and set up under their umbrella in the south. That’s how he rose so fast and how he managed to stay protected. Now Unk is set up with the Koreans and for the longest, they’ve been slowly pushing the other side out.”
“How do you know that last part?”
“Unk and me been talking.”
“So you stayed in prison to protect your family in a sense?”
Mali nodded then stood. He took his box from the bed then tossed it in the trash. He only had a white towel wrapped around his waist. The muscles in his back and arms coiled and rolled as he reached on the table to check his cell. His stride, although brisk and purposeful, put me in the mind of a jungle cat.
He turned to look at me with his phone in his hand. “When Unk came to see me, he told me what was what. Asked me what I wanted to do.”
“You chose prison.”
“Well if we being honest, I didn’t have that many options. I could snitch and get my unk popped or I take the time.”
“You were just sixteen, Mali. Uncle Lo should have done something more. You shouldn’t have had to take that on.”
“I did what I had to do, baby. Just drop it, a’ight? I did what I had to do.”
I studied him for a minute then nodded, respecting his wishes. I finished eating then we laid down for the night. Sleep came easy for the most part. The meds Mali gave me helped with the pain. I was sleeping well until I had to snatch up my phone when it beeped. I quickly looked at the time to see morning had rolled around.
“Wayman said Braychelle was with Sheriff Duncan earlier,” I said, groggily.
Mali flinched, opened his eyes then looked just as confused as I felt. “Huh?”
“You should probably put some clothes on.”
He asked, “Why?”
“Because according to Wayman, Chevy is on his way over here now.”
Chapter 22: Mali
Every day was new shit and every day that shit tipped the scales. Between Tasha’s millions of questions and me choosing to reveal some truths to her so that she could chill, my mind was mulling over a lot of things. Walking around my room, I made note of everything as I had specifically laid it out. My time in the pen made me become particular in how I had things.
For example, I typically never slept in my bed. Shit was too soft, felt off to me. I had taken the main mattress and threw it in the indoor stairway that connected from the kitchen upstairs to my joint below.
Also in that stairway, was the extra dresser that I didn’t need, and some tables, chairs, and other things. I liked having only a few things. Anything more and I began feeling claustrophobic. Last night though, when I came back from Tennessee, when I got back to the house, KD helped me move Tasha to my apartment and place her on my bed. Though it was a box spring on the floor with no headboard, I took the soft pillow top mattress and laid it on the bed for her.
Somehow, I recalled Mama being there, too. She stayed in the kitchen cooking, saying, “Don’t show me nothing, or I’ll fade, Mali.”
That meant she didn’t want to see any blood. I had to keep her busy just to keep following us. “Mama, Tasha would like that chicken and dumpling soup you use to make us.”
“Your daddy used to love that soup too. Learned it from your grandma in Jamaica.” Mama told me in a flat tone that became warm with life and memories of the past. “I’ll make that.”
