Page 36 of A Kingpin's Weakness
We all turned toward security at the sound of Ronnie’s voice barking across the velvet ropes like this was 2002 and he was still somebody.
“Southside, tell this nigga,” I said with a smirk.
“That’s your friend,” Southside replied, leaning back with a bottle in his lap.
“Old nigga can’t get his own section like the rest of us,” Rich muttered, not even trying to hide the irritation in his voice.
He still had a sour taste in his mouth from that meeting the other night. Rich never really fucked with Ronnie. Honestly, nobody did but me, and even I had my limits. Ronnie used to be my pops’ right hand. After Pops passed, Ronnie kept me afloat, kept me safe, and made sure our name held weight. I respected that.
But lately? Lately, he’d been moving reckless, sloppy, and entitled.
“Let him in, Benny,” I finally said, waving toward security.
Ronnie stumbled through the ropes, eyes low and pupils blown wide. Definitely high. Probably drunk too.
“What up, Seth?” he said, pulling me in for a dap. “Southside, you brought the whole damn city out tonight!”
“Tell the nigga happy G-day,” Rich snapped. “You all in his section.”
“Yeah, my bad. Happy G-day, Southside, for real.” Ronnie nodded, then turned to Rich. “Aye, Rich, let’s dead that shit from the other night. We all supposed to be family.”
“You can live another day,” Rich said flatly, sipping his drink without breaking eye contact.
I stood up and motioned for Ronnie to follow me toward the edge of the section. “Aye, let me holler at you real quick.”
If Stormi wasn’t gonna tell me what that hospital conversation was about, I’d get it outta him. Ronnie followed, weaving a little as we walked.
“What’s up, baby boy?” he asked, eyes red and slow. The man was gone.
“Stormi. At the hospital. What y’all talked about.”
He shrugged like it wasn’t shit. “You know how big sisters get. Always trying to fix their little brothers’ mess.”
“What mess?”
“I mean, Noah still owe me money. Larose and them still want them drugs delivered. So it’s a mess.”
“Then why haven’t you handled that?”
“I am handling it.”
“So, what Stormi got to do with anything?”
I was already annoyed. My jaw clenched when I saw where his eyes drifted; straight to her. Stormi was dancing with Ari and them, her hips moving to the beat, ass bouncing in that white dress that hugged her too damn right. She looked unreal. Too good. That dress was going in the trash as soon as she took it off.
Every man in this section knew better than to stare. They saw who she came with. But Ronnie. He was locked in like he forgot how to blink.
“You see something you like?” I asked him, my voice dropping.
He chuckled, still watching her. “Shit, Stormi’s sexy ass. Can’t believe she came from Jo.”
I stepped closer. “Stormi’s spoken for.”
“By who? Jo and Noah said she single.”
“Me.”
Ronnie let out a slow whistle. “Oh, you claiming that now, young blood?”
