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“Fine,” he grunted. “I’ll make sure you can spread out more. No pushback from my guys. I’ll try to float the word in other cities and counties too. I can’t make promises once you’re outside of Inglewood though.”
“That’s good enough. If I can lock down all the hoods in LA, then you’re a fucking shoo-in. I need insurance and loyalty though,” I told him, folding my hands. “I’m going to find one of my former four kings and kill him. Tonight.” I felt Jupiter’s eyes jerk to mine but I didn’t look at her in return. I was tired of Sumo’s arrogant ass. If I had police protection, there wasn’t a place he could hide from me in LA. I’d find him and kill him.
“You’re planning to kill one of your own?” Marsh almost gasped at the idea. Bitch.
“He crossed me. He disrespected Juju. He shot me and stole from me. Yeah. He’s going to die.” I had already come to grips with what I had to do and postponing it wouldn’t make things easier. Wouldn’t make it hurt less that I had to take my brother out.
“I see,” Marsh said, silently agreeing to the kill. “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to let it turn cold. No follow-up on leads. No questioning the hood. Let it freeze,” I said clearly, slicing my hand through the air with a gesture of finality.
“Fine. Consider it done. I’ll let the case turn cold. What else? I know there’s something else. People like you…”
“Chill with that people like you shit, Marsh. You’re no better than me. At least I didn’t abandon my child.”
“Jesus, King…” Ju groaned beside me.
“No, let him speak, Jupiter. He seems to think he knows so much.” Marsh’s eyes crinkled at the corners when he looked at me.
“I know enough. I know that if I ever was lucky enough to have a kid with her?” I pointed at Ju then gripped her thigh possessively in my hand. “I’d never leave. I don’t give a fuck how hard things got or if I fucked up and she didn’t want me anymore, I’d be there for my kid. Nothing would keep me away.” My jaw flexed when I looked Marsh in the eye. It felt like I was staring down my own absent father. Like I was staring down all the fathers of me and my brothers and Jay and whoever else had to grow up alone.
“You don’t know my fucking life, boy. Don’t judge my choices.” Marsh was pissed. It rolled off his tight movements in waves.
“Then don’t make fucked up choices,” I told him. “Leaving her was a fucked up choice. Hiding her from your family? Another fucked up choice. Now, make it up to her by helping out her real family while we make moves in the streets to get your bitch ass elected.”
“I’m leaving, Juju,” Marsh stood to his feet and I stood too. Juju hopped up beside me, the top of her head reaching my shoulder. “We’ll all talk more later when tensions aren’t as high.” His gaze was stony on me.
“I still need my insurance, Marsh,” I said in a deceptively smooth voice.
“What the fuck do you want from me, King? A contract?”
“Of sorts,” I smiled. “I need you to handwrite me a suicide letter.” The energy in the room turned granite. Unyielding and stiff.
“A suicide letter?” Juju and Marsh both said in unison.
“You fuck me over, I kill you and make it look like a suicide. You don’t fuck me over, the letter will never see the light of day. You can haul my ass away at any moment. You don’t need insurance.”
“I’m not…” He started to protest.
“Then you won’t fucking win and we’ll make sure of it,” Jupiter said before he could bite out the rest of his words.
“You’re clear for murder, King. I’m not promising you any insurance yet.”
“Okay, let this be our free trial period. Let me donate to your campaign as a show of good faith.” Marsh blinked at me like I was speaking a different language.
“A show of good faith?” He repeated. “I don’t want a stack of cash, King. That’s not how upstanding citizens operate.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I sighed. “Let me run to the car. I’ll be right back.” I didn’t leave out of the front door. I left the way I came in. Through Juju’s window. I went to my car, grabbed my checkbook, and climbed back into Ju’s bedroom. When I walked back into the living room, I wrote Marsh a check for ten thousand while he watched.
“Go get yourself some campaign banners and shit off Vistaprint,” I said, tucking the check into his pocket.
“I-I can’t take personal donations this large.”
“It’s not a personal donation. It’s a donation from All the King’s Men.”
“All the King’s Men?” Marsh asked, unfolding the check and looking at it.
“It’s a local food pantry. Non-profit. It’ll be up and running next month.” I knew how to move money around and how to look innocuous to the public.
