Page 14 of Heavy Is The Crown

Jay-1 let out a string of curses, ducking low as he grabbed the gear shift.

“FUCK!”

Kenyatta dove to the side, his body moving on instinct, reaching for something, anything; but he was unarmed.

“Jay-1, GO!”

Jay-1 slammed the gas, the tires screeching as the BMW lurched forward. Bullets whizzed past, slicing through the night like deadly whispers.

The masked men dove for cover, firing back as Jay-1 swerved onto the main road, nearly clipping a dumpster on the way out. The car fish-tailed, struggling for control before catching traction.

Kenyatta’s pulse pounded in his skull.

This wasn’t a simple drop gone wrong. This was a set-up.

He twisted in his seat, breath sharp, heart thundering, watching the warehouse disappear behind them.

They weren’t chasing. Which meant, they never planned on letting Jay-1 leave alive.

His jaw clenched. “WHO THE FUCK WAS THAT?!”

Jay-1’s knuckles were white, his jaw tight as hell. His eyes flicked to the rearview, then back to the road, his chest rising and falling fast.

“Somebody who thought they could play me.”

Kenyatta exhaled sharply, his mind racing, piecing shit together.

This wasn’t random. This wasn’t just bad luck. Jay-1 had stepped on the wrong toes.

And now Kenyatta was right in the middle of it.

Again.

**********

Jay-1 took the back roads, weaving through Trinity Bay’s streets like a ghost in the night. The neon glow of liquor stores and laundromats blurred past as he cut through side streets, finally pulling into a quiet lot on the West Side. He killed the engine, but the tension between them hummed louder than the silence.

Kenyatta’s pulse was still hammering, his body wired from adrenaline. He turned, eyes burning into Jay-1’s profile. “Man, what the fuck was that?”

Jay-1 exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face before meeting his gaze. “A miscalculation.”

Kenyatta let out a hollow laugh, shaking his head. “A miscalculation? That’s what we call almost getting jammed up? Almost violating my parole? You had me sitting in a hot car, in a hot situation…for what?”

Jay-1 looked away, rubbing his temples like he had an explanation brewing, but Kenyatta wasn’t trying to hear it.

“It wasn’t supposed to go like that,” Jay-1 muttered.

Kenyatta scoffed, his temper barely in check. “That’s what everybody say after shit go wrong.”

Jay-1 finally turned, really looking at him now. “You ain’t the same Kenyatta no more, huh?”

Something in Kenyatta’s chest tightened. He wasn’t. Not anymore. And for the first time, he could say that shit with certainty.

He leaned back against the seat, staring at the cracked windshield, jaw clenching. “Nah. I ain’t.”

Silence fell. Just the sound of the tires gripping the wet pavement, the hum of the engine struggling to settle after being pushed to its limits.

Then Kenyatta spoke, his voice low, controlled, but firm. “This some K9 shit?”

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