Page 7 of A Kingpin's Weakness
I stood there at the window, watching every damn person that walked by the ER doors, waiting to see if the kid Noah was gonna pull through. One thing was certain, Ronnie wasn’t getting to him before I did.
“How we playing it?” Rich asked, nodding in Ronnie’s direction.
I didn’t answer right away. Just gave the signal for Ronnie to come over. He saw it. Hesitated for a second but he came. He knew better. Ronnie was old school. Back in the day, he and my pops were like brothers. You saw Seth Sr., and Ronnie was never far behind. That history earned him a lot of passes over theyears. But last night, all them passes expired. Too many bricks and too much money unaccounted for. One of his runners shot and damn near dead. And Ronnie. Moving like he lost control or like he was hiding something.
I wasn’t hurting for cash. But I needed the streets to understand you don’t fumble my product and walk away breathing easily. Ronnie was the only one left acting like he didn’t get the message. And I was about to make sure he got it loud and clear.
Ronnie stepped up, smooth as ever. “Youngblood, you didn’t have to come all the way down here. I would’ve touched bases with you.” His voice had that practiced ease, like he was trying to keep things cool, but I wasn’t buying it.
Ronnie hit me with that fast talk the second he stepped up. Niggas like him I always keep my guard up. They’re always spinning words, trying to talk their way outta trouble or into some. But Ronnie, he couldn’t fast talk me. Not when he wasn’t saying shit worth listening to.
“How the hell do you keep finding yourself in these situations, Ronnie?” My voice low, steady like I’m calling him out but leaving the door open for the truth.
I was curious, real curious. Out of all the soldiers under me, Ronnie the oldest one and was my biggest fuck-up. I had niggas younger than me, my own age, that I trusted on the field before I ever trusted Ronnie. He’d been in the game the longest, too. Truth is, Ronnie should’ve been in my position. But he lacked what it took; the grit, the brains, the backbone to be a real leader. And that’s on him.
This game was my bread and butter. It was how I took care of my family, made sure my mom never had to work another day in her life, how I promised my son a different path one without the struggles I knew all too well. Life was good, until I was 14. That’s when my father got killed. Cold blood. Open case. Killer neverfound. That day, the streets took a piece of me. Before the dirt hit his casket, I swore I’d send his killer straight to him. Sixteen years later, I still haven’t made good on that promise. Shit eats me up at night. I’ve lost count of how many niggas I sent to meet their maker but not the one who took my pops.
It’s my heart that keeps trying to help these young niggas out even when it ain’t easy. I ain’t just some cold hitter; I’m trying to make sure the next generation don’t get swallowed up like I almost did.
“The moment Noah wakes up, I’m the first to talk to him,” I said, steadying my voice.
I left Ronnie with that. The moment the words left my mouth, I turned and walked out of the waiting area, heading down the hall. My stomach was twisting so tight it felt like it was trying to crawl out my back. Any other morning, I’d be sitting at the kitchen table, eating one of my mom’s breakfast plates hot, greasy, and homemade. But not today. Today, I was stuck with vending machine food.
Kneeling down to grab a bag of Lay’s potato chips from the vending machine, I caught a glimpse of her. Even with everything she was dealing with, she was beautiful; an effortless beauty written all over her face. Her natural curls were pinned up in a messy bun, with a couple of tendrils falling loose on each side, framing her face. Her clothes were loose, but her pants hugged her curves just right, showing off that stacked figure. I couldn’t just walk past her like that. I decided to grab a few things for her before making my way over.
"You hungry?” I asked, standing in front of her.
She looked up, and for a moment, the noise of the hospital disappeared. Her eyes met mine and hit me harder than I expected. Jo was known for a lot of shit; begging, stealing, being in places she didn’t belong. She was a regular to anyone pushingweight. But who would’ve guessed she brought someone like this into the world?
"Thanks, but I don’t have much of an appetite,"she said softly, glancing away and back down, fidgeting with her hands.
I took that as my cue to sit. She side-eyed me, probably trying to figure out why a man like me was choosing to sit beside her in the middle of all this chaos.
"Seth," I said, introducing myself. I didn’t press for her name. I wanted her to give it willingly just to hear her say something again.
Then she hit me with it, calm but sharp.
"Listen, I know Noah probably fucked some shit up last night, but you all being here trying to be intimidating doesn’t help the family. I don’t even know if my brother’s going to wake up, and y’all already look like you came to collect."
I nodded slowly, letting her words land. She wasn’t all the way wrong. I came to collect just not from Noah.
“That’s not why I’m here.” My voice came out calm, but I could feel the weight behind it. She wasn’t the type to take words at face value.
“Then why are you here?” She turned in her seat, fully facing me now. Her eyes locked on mine. They were sharp, steady, like she was already peeling me apart. Like she was waiting to catch the lie before it left my mouth. I held her gaze.
“I need to know what happened.”
She let out a dry laugh, the kind filled with disbelief and frustration.
“What happened was you guys use young boys to get their hands dirty, so you can stay out the light but collect all the money.”
I paused, letting that land.
“Oh.” Not sarcastic. Not defensive. Just the truth behind her words hitting a little too close.
Because I’d heard that before; hell, I’d said it before. When I was younger. When I was one of those boys. And now, hearing it from her, with all that pain and fire behind it? It hit differently. She was right. At least partially. But she didn’t know everything.
That might’ve been Ronnie’s plan but not mine. I got my hands dirty early on. Started as a runner, corner boy, whatever they needed me to be. Took risks when I ain’t even have the facial hair to match the attitude. But I learned. I watched. I moved smarter. Now I move work clean Quiet and Effortlessly. My name ring bells statewide. And if you weren’t buying in bulk, we didn’t have business. I was your plug’s plug’s plug. See, I didn’t need little boys in too-deep carryingweight they couldn’t lift. That was Ronnie’s way; just lazy, loud, and reckless. Mine was calculated and Mine was legacy. So yeah, she could be mad at him but me I wasn’t the villain in this story. Not yet.
