Page 104 of Pretty Black

“I don’t think I could not. I’ve come to terms with my need to write. I can’t keep it all in my head. I’d go mad.” I laughed, but it was the truth. There would always be music in my mind.

My world only made sense in words.

What doesn’t kill you makes a great song.

I'd looked death in the eyes, and she spared me.

THIRTY-FIVE

PRESENT DAY

Aspen Cole

We’d spent days tracking, one of us always tailing him. We called in some of our friends from the neighborhood to help us. It didn’t take long. Alexander was a creature of habit. He had a routine, and he stuck to it.

We formed a plan and set it.

We took out the cameras on the route days ago one by one, making sure we couldn’t be traced anywhere close to the area.

The guys from the boxing club had him cornered in the back of an alley by the time we arrived. We approached a sweating prick.

I finished taping my hands, tearing it off with my teeth. “Did you get his phone?”

“We did.” Johnny held it up.

“Good.” I turned to face Alexander. “You fucked with the wrong guys. You hurt my brother, and I’m not going to fight you in a lawsuit. I’m going to get my revenge like they taught us in the neighborhood. I want my pound of flesh, and since you did Saint dirty, he’s going to let Royal take his so he doesn’t fuck up his pretty hands.”

“You both play as much as he does.”

That’s what Alexander was going to focus on?

“I was a boxer long before I was a musician, and I hate fame. I won’t miss it if I can’t play live anymore. I have a back-up plan. What do you got, cunt? What are you gonna do when they see all the dirty shit you’ve done? I don’t gotta open your phone to know what we’ll find there, and I’ll publish it all. You’ll never work in this town again.” I hopped from foot to foot, rolling my shoulders and neck.

“You won’t find anything there and I will bury you for this—”

I shut him up with an uppercut to his jaw, followed by a right hook to his temple.

He was either a good liar or telling the truth. I didn’t care which. I’d sleep like a baby.

Alexander staggered but stayed upright. Better than I’d expected. I went in on him, landing blows to his kidneys and stomach. He tried to fight back, but even in my thirties and as out of shape as I was from all my drug use, I was still faster than his forty-something.

He landed a couple of hits and I hardly noticed, too hyped on adrenaline. I spit blood at our feet after he got a lucky shot to the mouth in a last-ditch effort before falling to a knee.

I stepped back and gestured at Royal to take over. Royal wouldn’t stop when he ended up on the ground. That’s why I had the boys from the old neighborhood stay. They’d have to drag Royal off him, and I trusted them more than I trusted anyone in this business. When you grew up the way we did, we learned young not to snitch. We’d take these secrets to the grave.

“Satisfied?” I asked Saint when Alexander’s face was good and bloody.

“No, but I don’t want you to kill him. I want him alive to see his career burn to the ground.”

I almost hadn’t asked Saint if he wanted to come, but then I took a look at his rap sheet. He’d gotten into his fair share of scrapes and been arrested a few times, and he’d never snitched.

“I’m going to make it more painful than he’s made all of you suffer.”

“Good.”

“You can’t tell even your husband who’s behind it.”

“I know.” He held out his hand.

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