I smiled. “What you mean?” I asked, faux-innocently.
“Yeah. Y’all thought y’all handled that situation cute. Wait til?—”
He stopped abruptly. My eyes narrowed. I stared at Kemp for another second.
Then—
“Who are the Russians?” I tried again.
“I DON’T KNOW!”
This time when I hit him, his head bounced off concrete hard enough for everybody to wince a little.
“Fuck you yelling at?” I demanded.
“Okay. That might’ve been excessive,” Braeden commented.
“Nah, I like that one. Way his head moved? It had rhythm, almost a mini-dribble.”
Kemp’s breathing turned shallow as he struggled to hold onto consciousness. Finally, he mumbled, “They said they still got unfinished business with yo' people.”
Everything in the shed stilled. Prime rubbed a hand across his face.
“I'm guessing yo' Pops and Maxim not gon’ enjoy hearing this,” he observed.
“Nah,” I agreed quietly. “They won’t.”
Kemp looked between all of us, panic finally creeping up on him fully.
“I told y’all what I knew.”
I nodded. “You did.”
“You gon’ let me go then?” he tried to bargain.
The entire shed burst into laughter. Kemp’s composure cracked completely after that.
“Aw, hell. He serious. This nigga bout to cry,” Juvie teased.
I stood slowly.
“You walked up on my wife, tryna scare her,” I reminded Kemp in case he needed his memory jogged.
Fear immobilized him better than the zip ties.
“Y'all gon' kill me?”
Ajani pushed himself out the chair. “We not killing nobody on my Granny Nette's property.”
“Absolutely not. That lady terrifying,” Prime agreed.
Relief surged through Kemp so hard his body looked like it folded in on itself.
“We have a wedding rehearsal to get to. No time for murder today,” I said, smiling. “Let's take a ride.”
His eyes flew to my face. Something about my expression had his fear spiking. He immediately started panicking.
“Nah—hold on?—”
