Page 44 of The Prodigy 2: Rise of a Queen

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Jakari

ItwasD-day.

It was a good day.

Malika texted me last night to thank me for her gifts. That had a nigga’s chest puffed out. Then Nay brought the kids over for a visit—a short visit, thankfully. This morning, I sent Malika a good morning text and she responded. That was new. Felt good. And today, my uncle was gonna get dealt with.

Things were looking up.

Cyrus pulled up to the Bonner Street warehouse. His eyes scanned the area before he gave me a short nod to let me know to get out. Bo was at the warehouse door, and he gave me the same nod before opening it so I could enter.

It was quiet when I walked in. Almost too quiet. Had my skin prickling. But as it turned out, it was fine. Everybody was just standing around waiting for me. Eris and Nay stood stone-faced with their backs against the wall. Will was standing in the middle of the room, right next to my Uncle Prez. Everything must have gone smoothly, because my uncle didn’t have a mark on him. Other than him being zip-tied to a chair with his hands behind his back, he looked completely normal.

I approached him slow, cuz I wanted to see the look on his face and in his eyes when he realized I had the power of his life and death in my hands.

His face was tight. Eyes black and squinty. Jaw clenched. Ears back. Like a jungle cat, his muscles were taut and in the ready position. I had no doubt that if he was loose, he would have pounced on me.

I saw so much of my father in his face, and I hated that shit. I wanted to be surgical about this work, emotionless and sharp. But all I felt was disgust at what I had to do. At what he wasmakingme do.

“You got anything to say?” were my first words to him.

His top lip curled as he shook his head.

“You wanna tell me why, or you want me to guess?”

Prez chuckled. “You know why. Business.”

“You don’t go against family for business. Especially when that family is making sure yo punk ass stay eating out here.”

“It’s really very simple, Knight. It wasn’t personal.”

I glared at him for a moment. Stared him down. I hated him. I loved him, but I hated him.

He was family.Closefamily. Me and my brothers had fished with him and my cousins a gang of times. Went to games. Basketball, football. Had sleepovers and took trips together. Celebrated birthdays. The whole nine. One big happy family. At least, that's what I thought.

“Who shot at me the second time?”

“Just some shooters," he said. "Hired out. Nobody you know.”

“Try me.”

“Scooby and Rondo. Don’t know their governments.”

I nodded. “What else, man?”

“Whatchu mean?”

“What else I need to know?”

Prez looked around at the faces of the other men in the room, then back at me. “It depends.”

“On?”

“On if I’ma live or die. If I’m out this bitch anyway, I ain’t got no incentive to tell you shit.”

“True.” I pushed my sleeves up and balled up my fists. “But I could tell you what you wanna hear, get you to talk, and then kill you anyway, so…”

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