Ricky had been prepared for Ty to demand a full report. The King had moles all up in HPD, but none who could get close to Braddock. Tyrone hated Braddock. That dude was living on borrowed time.
“I told him I went over there that night,” Ricky admitted. “That me and Shelley had a big fight and then I left. That’s all there was to tell.” Ricky shrugged. “That’s what he got.”
Tyrone propped his elbows on the chair arms and steepled his fingers like he was going to pray or something. “What did you tell him about me?”
Shit.
“Why would I tell him anything about you?”
Tyrone shot to his feet.
Satan growled.
Pistols leveled around the room.
Ricky froze ... didn’t even breathe.
“You messing with me, boy?”
Ricky shook his head. “No way, Ty.”
Hearing his master’s distress, Satan issued another low warning growl.
“That fat shit growls at me again I’ll put one right between his bug eyes.”
Ricky pulled back on Satan’s leash, drawing the animal closer to his leg. “Silence.” The animal instantly went quiet. Ty’s bodyguards shifted their aim from Satan to Ricky.
A twinge of fear sliced through him. “He asked me about you, of course. But I didn’t tell him shit. I just kept saying I didn’t know nothing about no King.”
Sweat beaded on Ricky’s forehead. If he’d been a praying man, this would’ve been the time to do it. The silver crucifix he wore burned his skin as if reminding him that it was never too late to start a convo with his Maker.
“Braddock didn’t believe you. He forced the issue, didn’t he?”
Ty reached up and stroked the long thin scar on his cheek. No one knew where the scar had come from. No one had the balls to ask.
“I ...” Ricky held on to that I-dunno expression. “He didn’t exactly say he didn’t believe me.”
Tyrone narrowed his gaze at Ricky. “But he asked you specific questions, didn’t he?”
What the hell? Did the guy have someone on Braddock now? Or maybe Ty had finally gotten to that tight-ass partner of Braddock’s.
“Sure.” Ricky nodded like a damn bobblehead doll. “He asked all kinds of questions. What was the deal between you and Shelley? Did you order a hit on her? Had I ever witnessed you ordering a murder or conducting any other business?”
He couldn’t tell him about the other question. Definitely not that one. If Tyrone found out Braddock had offered Ricky immunity to give up what he knew, he was a dead man. Tyrone wouldn’t care about the answer Ricky had given; he’d kill him on principle just to cover his ass.
“And what, pray tell, did you say to all those prying questions?”
“I told him I didn’t know jack shit about you or what you do. I told him I got my own business to take care of.”
Tyrone moved his head side to side. “You think Braddock’s a fool?”
Sweat slid down Ricky’s jaw. Every answer, right or wrong, dug the hole a little deeper. “No. I ... I mean, yeah. He’s a fool if he thinks he can come over here messing with the King.”Please let that be the answer Ty wants to hear.
“Braddock,” Tyrone said, his jaw throbbing with tension, “has a reason for getting in my business.”
Ricky nodded, though he didn’t have a clue where this was headed.
“It’s personal. Between me and him. But it don’t matter. He’s been trying to get in my shit for three years and he don’t seem to get the message I’m sending him. Now you gonna make sure he gets the message. Loud and clear.”
