Page 84 of City of Gods

Once the door was closed and locked behind us all, Hakim shook his head. “Y'all good?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Kenya answered with a nod. She sure as fuck hadn’t moved from Maasai’s protective grip. Who the hell was this new Ken?

“You’re going to get in so much trouble for telling that cop’s business,” I laughed, pushing Bakari.

“How? I’m not his doctor. Never have been. People talk, though, and it was nothing to figure out what officers had been dispatched to your street before we left the Temple. I didn’t want those niggas digging around too deep.”

“Thank you, Bakari,” Kenya said stiffly. Honestly, I understood her apprehension. The Godwins had always been irritating to us.

They were able to navigate the legit world and the underworld without anyone batting an eye and they did good on both fronts.

“Not a problem, sweetheart.” He winked at her and she huffed in response, making Hakim and Maasai laugh.

“How’s your pain level, Kenya?” Hakim asked, standing in front of her and examining her face.

“I don’t know…like a four,” she told him. He handed his pickle to Bakari, who glowered at his back.

“Why the fuck am I holding your food, nigga? The fuck I look like?” he fussed.

“A snack-holding-bitch.” I snickered into my hand. He stared at me for a beat then handed me the pickle. “Really, Bakari?” I rolled my eyes.

“You need pain meds?” Hakim was already heading to Kenya’s kitchen to wash his hands. Well, to scrub them. He was a perfectionist just like his brother.

“I still have some.”

“Come in here and let me get a better look.” In less than a minute, he’d turned her kitchen into an exam room.

“If y'all are good, I’m going to get back to the Temple.” Maasai slapped hands with Bakari then pulled him in for a tight hug. I wasn’t sure why it struck me so heavily seeing the display of brotherly love between them.

Maybe it was because I was at odds with all of my siblings. I felt like an outcast.

“You leaving, bro?” Hakim called from the kitchen.

“Yeah. Work don’t stop.” Maasai flashed a beautiful smile at me and I saw exactly why all the women fell all over themselves for these damn brothers. It made me want to grab hold of Bakari and never let go. I just needed him to be sure I was what he wanted and that we didn’t have some weird trauma bond happening.

“Put some ice on your swelling and get some rest, Kenya. The only way this shit is going to heal is if you get rest. Not having fucking shootouts with your crazy ass little sister.”

“Hey, woah…we were shot at first. What did you think we were going to do?” I walked into the kitchen and handed him back his damn pickle. He just smiled at me in return and finished it in a few bites.

“Keep my patient away from the shootouts until she’s healed.” When Hakim stood and walked over to me, I got a faint whiff of his cologne. Did all three of them have to be fine as fuck and smell good? “Call me if y'all need anything.”

“Actually, Hakim, can you take Ken back to the Temple with you? It’s the safest place for her to be right now after this shit.” I clasped my hands together under my chin and Hakim stared at me, an unreadable expression on his handsome face.

“Yeah. I guess that makes sense.” He looked at Kenya and motioned for her to follow him and she did, gladly. I was going to have to talk to her fresh ass about the way she was running behind these Godwin boys she supposedly hated so much.

I looked at Bakari who was at my side and drank in his mocha skin and the clean way his blue scrubs popped against his skin tone. “You’re riding with me, I guess?” I said with a smile.

“Let’s roll, baby girl.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead, forcing a smile on my face. “We got work to do anyway, remember?”

“Oh, trust me, I remember.” I slipped my hand into his and we left, leaving behind the flashing lights and roves of neighbors still watching the fire department move the charred SUV out of the street.

…

Takia lived in a small community of tightly clustered row houses right on the edge of Bellmore. In fact, her house was the last one on the last street before Bellmore morphed into Chicago.

Bakari and I were bold and drove right up to her house. There was no more time to be discreet after my mother tried to have me and Ken killed. Bakari led the charge, walking in front of me with a small leather pouch tucked away in his hand. He’d already unzipped it and was pulling out a small syringe by the time we approached the narrow porch.

I watched him ring the doorbell twice then he stood back, slipping the leather pouch into his pocket. The cold night air bit at the tip of my nose while we stood there waiting for her to answer. There were lights on in the house and we knew that she’d been off from work for hours.

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