Page 127 of Steel
I turned around and punched him hard in the gut, causing him to double over. Grabbing him by the back of the neck, I yanked him upright.
“Keep. Fucking. Walking,” I said through gritted teeth.
I shoved him forward, and we kept walking until we got to the end of the hall. I punched in the override code and shoved him into a room that served as storage. Grabbing him by the neck, I led him to the very back.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he questioned as I shoved him into a wall.
Pops stood back to let me handle this. A sinister smile spread across my face as I approached him.
“You touched something that belongs to me,” I said calmly.
“How? Nigga, I been in here sixteen consecutive years. That’s one right after the muthafucking other, to make it plain and simple for your ass.”
I chuckled. “You remember the reason you’re in here, Timmy? The wife you almost beat to death. The children you abused. One of your daughters is the love of my life. Because of the trauma you caused, . . . trauma I didn’t know about, . . . she hid my daughter from me for ten years. I feel some type of way about that.”
He laughed. “You coming at me about some shit I did years ago? So my daughter hid a baby from you, and that’s my fau?—”
I punched him in the face so hard that it sent him flying into the wall, knocking the wind out of him.
“Did I ask you for a muthafucking commentary, nigga?”
He coughed as he struggled to his feet. “F-fuck you.”
I chuckled as I went into my pocket to retrieve the syringe and vial I’d gotten from Smoke.
“Do you know what it’s like to feel helpless, Timothy?” I asked, filling the syringe with the liquid. “You ever think about your ex-wife laying there feeling the life drain from her body as you damn near beat her to death? You ever hear the cries of your little girls begging you to stop because they couldn’t fight you back while you beat them until they’re black and blue?”
I grabbed him by his neck and injected him with the paralyzing agent.
“That’s what I’m gonna do to you. You won’t be able to fight back. You’ll feel every ounce of pain. Every broken bone. Everything . . . and you won’t be able to do a thing about it. Helpless, just like your wife and daughters.”
His body went limp, and he slumped to the floor, eyes wide. I took off my uniform and handed it to my father. Dressed in a beater and basketball shorts, I cracked my knuckles and neck asI stepped toward Oden. All he could do was sit there as I beat the dog shit out of him. His eyes pleaded with me to stop but I couldn’t.
As I delivered blows to his face and body, I heard the bones cracking beneath my fists and feet. It was so fucking satisfying. One thing about me, I was calm and laid-back until a nigga made me sit up. Sure, I was considered the sensitive one of my brothers, but I was also the deadliest.
I didn’t need a weapon.
All I needed was my hands.
“Get the fuck up,” I said, snatching a bruised and bloody Timothy from the floor and pushing him against the wall. The fear in his eyes made me smile as I wrapped my gloved hands around his neck.
“I’m gonna deliver the same fate you tried to give your wife, bitch ass nigga,” I said, squeezing hard. “Nobody is coming to save you. You’ll start to rot before you’re even found.”
His eyes widened as I squeezed the life from him. I took pleasure watching him slowly drift away, and once I was satisfied, I decided to end his pain and snapped his neck. His head dropped to the side, and I released him to the floor. For a moment, I just stared at him before covering him up with a tarp that was lying around and placing several items in front of his body to conceal him.
“You got it out your system?” Pops asked.
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Good. Let’s get the fuck outta here.”
I put the uniform back on, and we made our way to the door. After checking to make sure the coast was clear, we left the storage room and headed back to the docks. The other delivery truck was gone, and Pollock was nervously waiting for us.
“Is it done?” he asked.
“Don’t ask no fucking questions,” Pops said. “You don’t know shit, and you ain’t seen shit. And if you say shit, you’re gonna be next. You feel me, my nigga?”
Pollock nodded frantically. “I feel you.”
