A few cops snickered nearby. Turner’s face turned red.
“Keep running that mouth, Venzant,” he hissed. “You think you’re untouchable, but one of these days, you’ll slip. And I’ll be there to watch you fall.”
I leaned in close enough that only he could hear me. “You better pray I don’t fall toward you, old man. You might not like what happens when I get up.”
His nostrils flared. “Watch your back.”
“Always,” I said. “Question is—canyousay the same?”
He backed off, muttering curses, while the bomb squad moved in. I turned away, pissed off. I couldn’t stand a bitch ass nigga, and Trell definitely was that, operating from the shadows, too scared to face me in the light. Who was helping this nigga? How was he able to move like he did? Tex was looking. Ajani Miller was looking. And it all seemed like it was for nothing.
Carlos walked up to me and touched my shoulder. “You okay,mijo?” he asked.
I exhaled, a rough, frustrated breath. “Yeah. I?—”
I stopped suddenly, my gaze caught by a tall, thin figure walking calmly—too calmly—outside the perimeter set by thefire department. Dressed in black, he had a cap pulled low over his face. I couldn’t really see him, but he was gone in an instant, sliding into a black Suburban and pulling out of the lot. The license plate was conveniently dirty, dried mud covering everything but the number six. Even as I moved toward where he pulled off from, phone to my ear as I called for backup, I knew I was too late.
(An Interlude)
The night pressedclose against the windows of my bedroom, the little city spread out and alive below, lights blinking, horns honking, sirens wailing somewhere in the distance. Even after everything, the sound of emergency vehicles still had me tense, jaw locked, like my nerves hadn’t caught up to the fact that everything was supposed to be good now.
Good. Right.
I stood in front of the glass, a tumbler of whiskey in my hand I hadn’t touched. The ice had melted to nothing while my mind twisted and turned. Trell’s name felt like venom. The raid disguised as a bomb threat helped spread the poison. Mymother’s lie sat at the center. All of it was connected, but I couldn’t see the picture being drawn.
Carlos’s voice echoed in my head.Sometimes the truth don’t come from the people you expect.
Medgar.
I hadn’t thought about him in years. I remembered him at my father’s funeral, eyes red, face torn up. He’d disappeared into the system not long after, locked up on financial charges, the last of my father’s family with whom I’d had contact. My father died and they buried us with him.
Something about Carlos’s tone stuck with me.
I walked over to my desk, still cluttered with reports from the day, contracts I hadn’t signed, things that used to feel important. Now they just looked like noise.
I hated noise.
Grabbing my phone, I selected a familiar contact. She answered quickly.
“Kimora?”
Her voice came through, tired but polite. “Yes, Mr. Venzant”
“Get me clearance for a visit to the federal prison at Pollock. I need to see Medgar Venzant.”
She hesitated. “That’s your uncle, right? Should I tell them what it’s regarding?”
“Nah,” I said. “Just set it up. Sooner the better.”
“Understood.”
The line went dead. I stood there for a while longer.
“Mekhi?” Farrah’s voice was soft, sleep-warm.
“What’s up, Little Thug?”
“Come sleep with me.”
