Page 3 of A Kingpin's Weakness
My feet unglued from the concrete, and I walk forward toward the doors, toward whatever truth is waiting on the other side.
The moment we step inside, the cold air wraps around me. And that smell that hospital smell? It hit hard. Sterile, sharp, full of memory and fear.
“There you are!”
RJ’s voice had cut through the air just before I felt his arms wrap around me. He’s holding his phone, probably mid-dial.
The silence, the waiting, the not-knowing… it’s been eating me alive. But I could feel it… whatever’s coming, it’s about to bury me whole.
I let go of the stranger’s hand without thinking when RJ appeared, but he didn’t leave. He stayed, standing quietly, watching like he was waiting for permission to disappear. But he didn’t.
“What’s going on, RJ?”
My voice cracked as I pulled back from his arms, wiping at my face, trying to brace for impact. “Why am I here? What happened?”
He stepped back and scanned me from head to toe. Like he was assessing whether I could handle what he was about to say. Whether I’m strong enough. I already know I’m not.
“Noah was brought in a few hours ago,” he finally says. “Gunshot wound. His leg and his abdomen. He’s in surgery now. They’ve got one of the best surgeons on him.”
I don’t even feel my knees give out just the rush of air leaving my lungs. The ground rushes up, but I never hit it.
That scent of cedarwood wraps around me again. The stranger caught me. Just in time. If RJ had told me that over the phone, I would’ve never made it here.
Now, all eyes are on me. All four men surround me, their faces painted with concern, but unsure what to say or do. The stranger doesn’t speak. Doesn’t ask. He just lifts me gently and carries me to a chair nearby like I weigh nothing. Like this is what he came here to do. He lowers me into the seat with a kind of care I didn’t know I needed until now.
He stepped back after settling me into the seat, his voice rough but steady.
"RJ, you got her?"
RJ gave a tight nod, glancing my way before looking back at him. "Yeah, I got her."
If the situation was different, I might’ve asked how they even knew each other. RJ was the type girls trusted. Him? He looked like trouble you could never get away from.
"What happened, RJ?"
RJ exhaled, as his eyes met mine."I don’t have the full story. He was shot, left in some warehouse out on the west side. Whoever called it in didn’t leave a name. Just dropped a location and hung up."
RJ continued. "He was still breathing when the medics got to him. Been in surgery since. Jo showed up maybe an hour ago. I’ve been trying to reach her all morning."
“Where is she?” I stood up and asked. I was ready to wring Jo’s fucking neck when I heard her name. This shit had her written all over it. She wanted Noah in the streets; she lived for the fast money, drugs, and party. She had been that way her whole life and she roped him right in.
"Come on, she’s in the waiting room," RJ said, grabbing one of my bags as I followed close behind with the other.
This time, my feet weren’t dragging. I walked with a purpose. I needed to see my mother. Wanted to because if the roles were reversed, and if I were the mother and she the daughter, Jo had a hell of a lot of explaining to do.
We stepped into the waiting room, and before I could say a word, her voice cut sharp through the air. "Who the fuck called you?"
No greetings. No hugs. Not even a nod. I’d been welcomed better by strangers in the street than by the woman who brought me into this world.
Jo’s eyes were hard, arms crossed, every inch of her bristling with the attitude I knew too well. She never pretended I didn’t get on her nerves. Hell, she voiced it ever chance she could. I was always the one who had to be the adult. She hated that.
I stared right back.“The better question is what the fuck was your 17-year-old son doing in a goddamn abandoned warehouse on the westside?"
She didn’t blink.“Key word, Stormi. My son," she snapped.
I stepped forward, my voice was low but firm. "Jo, I’m not playing with you. I know all about how you've been pushing him toward that street life. Like finishing school isn’t an option anymore."
She rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Everybody doesn’t want to graduate and go off to college, Stormi. Not everybody wants to turn their back on their family like you did. That boy wants to take care of his mama."
