by E. M. Moore
Magnum’s gaze flicks to mine in the rearview mirror. I glance up to find the corners of his eyes creased in concentration as he stares at me. My stomach twists. If they know I’m not who I say I am, I’m dead tonight. I’m one hundred percent gone. In a blink of an eye, I could cease to exist just like my parents.
Except, I willingly walked into this. That’s the difference.
Even though my stomach is still roiling with the news, I steel myself. This is when shit gets hard. In a matter of minutes, I’m going to have to face the guy who killed my parents and not react. It will be the worst kind of torture. One I hope I’m ready for because everything is counting on this. This is what I came here for. If I can’t gain the leader of the Heights Crew’s trust, then I won’t be able to do what I set out to do. Sure, I might be able to walk in there now and somehow get in a lucky shot on Big Daddy K. Maybe even steal Magnum’s gun, go for the unexpected nature of it all. Pop off a shot that would hit him right where I need to. But, the odds of that are slim.
Besides, I don’t just want to kill him. I want to get away with it. Killing him will mean nothing if I don’t get away with it. I don’t want to go down too. Then I’ll have sacrificed my own life just to take his, and that’s not what I promise my parents when I talk to them at night. I promise them I’ll make my life better. That this is the means to a beautiful end.
“No need to be nervous,” Johnny says, inching closer. “I’ve already talked you up.”
I can imagine that conversation.
Yeah, Dad, I want to fuck this girl.
That’s good, Son, but you can’t fuck her until I say so.
Oh okay. Sure.
Maybe the conversation was lengthier than that, but that was the bones of it.
Johnny reaches over and tangles his fingers with mine. In the moment, it’s comforting. I don’t want to analyze it and tell myself that it’s disgusting what I’m doing. He’s offering me comfort, and I’m taking it. That’s it.
Within ten minutes, we’re pulling up to a modern building on the outskirts of the inner city in the Heights. Magnum takes a right, the road slanting down until we’re at a lower parking level. It’s an expansive parking area, but very few cars are parked inside it. “Who all lives here?” I ask.
“Dad, me, a few of the other guys at the top. Magnum,” Johnny finishes like his bodyguard is an afterthought.
I avoid the gaze that’s burning into the side of my face right now. Magnum sure is doing a good job of being intimidating. He doesn’t like that they’re bringing me here. I doubt he sees me as that much of a threat, but the fact that I’m going to be so close to Big Daddy K has him on high alert.
“Do you have your own place?” I ask. It comes out sounding like I want to know what my boyfriend’s living situation is, for reasons, but I actually need to know for recon. And you know, maybe reasons. After I figure out what the fuck is wrong with me, I’ll worry about my traitorous body.
Johnny’s fingers tighten in mine. “We live on the same floor, but I have my own place,” he says, his voice oozing sex. That incident earlier really got him ramped up. I’m going to have to avoid him until I straighten shit out in my head. Then again, he could be leaving me in a moment to go find someone else to fuck. Big Daddy K’s orders are still in place.
My skin crawls with that thought, but I rub my arms to ease it because that shouldn’t be my focus right now. Even if it was, I might actually think Johnny hasn’t done that again. He certainly blew off the lady at school for me.
Magnum parks the car near a nondescript door with a glass side panel. Johnny pushes the back door open and gets out, reaching back for my hand once he’s standing. I get out next to him, my heart thumping in my chest like the furious beat of hooves during a horse race. He touches my cheek. “You’ll be fine.”
Magnum moves ahead of us, opening the door which reveals an elevator. Once we’re all inside, he presses the button for P, which I’m assuming stands for Penthouse. Other than that, there are two other floors. He’s literally surrounded by other higher-ups in the Crew. If I decide to take him out here, escaping will be tricky. Then again, I might not have a choice. I haven’t seen Big Daddy K out anywhere. When Johnny says he’s going to meetings, I’m pretty sure they’re held right here.
The elevator moves us up briskly. When it stops, Magnum steps out first and then turns to face us in a bare, but high-ceilinged hallway. There are two doorways. One to the left and one to the right.
“Hands up,” Magnum says as I step out.
“Um, what?”
He reaches for a black metal detection wand that sits on a table—the only piece of furniture in the hallway.
“It’s just a precaution,” Johnny says before moving to stand next to Magnum.
They both face me, and I bite down on my lip, but widen my stance and hold my arms out to the side. Magnum waves the wand over me. It goes off over my chest. “Underwire in my bra,” I say. I cock an eyebrow. “Should I take my shirt off?”
“No,” Johnny grunts.
Magnum keeps the same fierce look of concentration as he finishes up. The detector doesn’t go off again, but already I’m pleased with what I’m finding out. I’ll probably have this same treatment every time I come up here, unless I somehow put myself on the other side with Johnny. If they trust me enough, I just might someday not get the wand treatment. Otherwise, I have no option. I’ll need a weapon to take down Big Daddy K, and right now, their security is on top of things to make sure that doesn’t happen. I suppose I could always hide it in my bra. Especially if I’m with Johnny. He won’t let them make me take my shirt off.
“All good,” Magnum says as he places the wand back down.
“No shit,” I deadpan.
My words don’t faze Mag though. He’s just doing his job, and he probably doesn’t care if a teenager gets salty about it.
Magnum turns toward the door on the right and opens it. Johnny follows him, and I take up the rear. Now that the metal detection part is over, the nerves are back. My palms sweat. Overall, there’s a sickening feeling twisting my stomach. This is like meeting your real-life boogeyman. The guy who’s haunted your dreams and terrorized you for years. Sure, I may be older now and able to comprehend that he probably won’t do anything to me, but that doesn’t mean there’s not a bunch of turmoil going on underneath the surface.
The worst part, I don’t know how I’m going to react when I see him.
We walk into a posh suite. Everything is modern with sleek lines. Brushed silver and grays seem to be the color of choice of Big Daddy. The king of the Heights Crew obviously lives in opulence, which I highly doubt the same can be said for a lot of his members. Oscar, for one, who’s living with a junkie mother. He told me he wanted to get out of the Heights to make a better life for him and his mom, and this guy, who has the nicest place I’ve seen since coming to the Heights, holds him back.
I scan the room, taking in everything I can as we work our way through it. Voices rise from a different room, and my stomach fills with dread. The world around me fades away, and I fixate on a voice I’m sure has to be owned by the man I hate. Soon, I’ll be putting a face to a name. Everyone knows who Big Daddy K is, but not everyone has seen him. Despite how difficult it’s been being “claimed” by Johnny emotionally, it really has been the best thing for my plan. Not everyone gets this access.
We walk toward a section of couches facing each other in the main living area. There’s a man facing away from us, sitting on the edge of the couch. I bore a hole into the back of his head, but then another voice sounds.
It’s Oscar. I blink, surprised to see him here. He has a fucking football game tonight. He should be at school, making sure he’s at practice. Instead, he’s here. And how exactly? I just left him at the front entrance.
When the man facing away from us sees Johnny round the couches, he looks back, like he’s expecting to see someone new following him in. For all I know, Johnny or Magnum contacted him ahead of time
to say we were coming. Then again, Johnny was a little preoccupied.
The man stands. His body is clad in a slimming gray suit. He has dark hair, gelled back like a scene from Goodfellas, though he doesn’t have the Italian coloring. In fact, he looks like an older version of Johnny. His face is more refined. He has more taut lines and a bit of crow’s feet around his eyes. He’s aged in a way Johnny isn’t. In his looks, there’s a wisdom there. A look that tells me he’s seen some things. He knows things. He’s done things. And he sure as fuck doesn’t put up with shit.
Under all that, I see him for the monster he is. For the guy who killed two innocent people because it suited him.
I hate him.
I loathe him.
I want to chop his dick off and feed it to his dying body.
“This must be Kyla?” he says, that strong tenor I heard when I first walked in filling the room like he’s used to being listened to.
Johnny steps up. “Yes, this is Kyla Samson. Kyla, this is Big Daddy.”
For some reason, him being called Big Daddy makes me want to laugh. I half expected an overweight guy with bulging pants and a double chin. “Nice to meet you,” I say, as he puts his hand in mine, gripping my palm with a firm handshake.
I bite the inside of my cheek. My stomach upheaves. It feels like his murderous germs are crawling up my arms and infecting me. When he lets go, I use everything in me not to wipe my hand against my jeans.
“Oscar was just telling me what went down in the shithole of a school today.”
I glance at Oscar. He’s all dark and dangerous right now. He has his gang member mask firmly in place. You’d never know by looking at him that he has any aspirations other than to be Big Daddy K’s lapdog. You wouldn’t know about his mother. Or the shit he endured when he came back to the Heights. He was forced to join the Heights Crew out of self-preservation, but all that is gone when I look at him now.
“Something’s got to be done about Reynolds,” Johnny says. His face is red. I don’t know if I missed all the tension in him before, but he looks like he’s all fired up again. “He can’t be doing shit like that to our people.”
Big Daddy K gives me a once over. I stand up straight. His gaze is inspecting, like he’s trying to pick apart my flaws so he can exploit them. It definitely doesn’t feel like a look a father would give his son’s new girlfriend. But I already know what I have planned will go far deeper than that.
“Aww yes, to poor Kyla.” Big Daddy’s gaze stays on me. “My son’s choice.”
Johnny looks over at me affectionately. I, on the other hand, have no idea how to fucking react.
“I think I’d like to talk to Kyla alone, boys.”
My pulse picks up. Blood thumps in my neck and at my wrists.
“But—” Johnny interjects.
His father holds up a hand to stop whatever excuse is about to come out of his son’s mouth. “Give us a few minutes.”
I swallow and glance at Johnny. The look he gives me says even he’s a little scared of what’s about to happen.
Fuck me.
One-by-one, the guys leave the room. Oscar is the last, nodding at me as he leaves. It feels like he’s trying to tell me something, but I have no idea what that might be.
“Have a seat,” Big Daddy K says, motioning toward the couch behind me.
I walk calmly over to the space Oscar just vacated and sit. I lift a nonchalant expression and meet his eyes.
“My son’s enamored with you.”
He lets the statement hang in the air. I don’t know how to respond to it, so I don’t. I figure wrong words can crucify me right now, so I’ll just let him talk, see what he has to say.
“Haven’t seen him like this in…ever,” he smiles lightly, but I don’t trust it. I feel like Big Daddy K is the type who can turn on a dime. He nods to himself like he’s figured something out. “If you would, I’d like to hear the entire conversation you had with Reynolds. Don’t leave anything out. You never know what might be important.”
I recount the entirety of the conversation the detective and I shared. I don’t exaggerate. I don’t downplay it. I say it word-for-word with a sure voice because I want him to know I’m not intimidated by him or his gang. He doesn’t want a girl like Johnny would usually bring home. He doesn’t want a girl who would just nod and laugh at everything that’s being said.
Unless I’ve read him wrong.
“You know what’s interesting, Kyla?” Big Daddy K asks, the last vowel in my name dragging out a few seconds, lingering in the air like a threat.
“What’s that?”
My heartbeat gets so loud I can hear it in my ears.
“I had you vetted, of course. You understand. I have to with anyone who is brought near me or my son or into the Crew. It’s for our safety.”
“Understood,” I say. I press my hands into my thigh as they start to shake. Maybe my background isn’t as tight as I wanted it to be. I’m almost expecting him to bring in my aunt and uncle, murder them in front of me because he saw right through the mask I placed over my real life.
He gazes at me, eyes intense. “I think… Well, there’s just something odd about you.”
He leans back in his seat and crosses his arms.
Well, fuck.
22
Big Daddy K tilts his head to the side, inspecting me like he wishes he could slice me open. As if doing that would give away all my secrets.
The fear rising inside me makes me want to lash out. Get defensive. But guys like Big Daddy K don’t abide by that. I force myself to wait to see what he has to say. He’ll get it out eventually, but I assume he loves making people sweat it out. I have to seem as unaffected as I can.
Mirroring him, I also drop back into the cushions of the sofa like I belong there. I smile at him, encouraging him to keep talking.
A smirk pulls his lips up higher. “It’s just it’s so sparse,” he says. “Your background.”
“What do you want to know?” I ask, stomach unsettling. “I can fill in some blanks if need be.”
“Your guardians?”
“Losers,” I tell him. “I keep my distance from them. They don’t care about me, and I don’t care about them.”
“Parents?”
“Dead.” I swallow, my voice dark even to my own ears.
He nods. “I get a lot of the same stories around here. No one comes to the Heights if they can help it.”
“So you’re probably used to people having sparse backgrounds then?” I ask boldly. “Not much to say about a shit life.”
His jaw ticks. “I’m told you fought with a lot of skill.”
“I like fighting,” I say, using the words I always use. “It helps me get out some of the aggression I hold inside.”
The more answers I give him, the more relaxed he gets. I don’t think I’ve gained the man’s trust by any means. I’m sure that’s hard to come by. Like with anyone who has a lot of power, you have to earn trust. You have to earn someone’s respect. You can’t just get it on the fly.
“I have an idea,” Big Daddy K muses. “Johnny won’t like it.”
My stomach squeezes, once again threatening to expel the breakfast I had this morning. It’s taking everything in me to sit in the presence of my parents’ killer calmly. I have a feeling once I get out of this place, it’s going to be a shit show. I can only pretend for so long.
Without waiting for an answer, he calls out, telling everyone he sent away a few minutes ago that they can come back.
Johnny sits next to me on the couch, putting his hand on my thigh. “It wasn’t so bad, was it?” His question starts out as a remark but turns into a question. He doesn’t relax until I smile in reassurance.
The more I see out of Johnny, the more I think he actually does care about me. Except, he only has so much capacity for caring.
Once everyone is settled, Big Daddy K says, “Reynolds is right about one thing. We’ve been having this territory fight with Fonz for too long. We’re
each undercutting the other. It’s time we settle this for good.”
Johnny smirks. He’s excited about the prospect. Obviously.
It’s Oscar who asks, “How do you propose we do that? We try to get her shit shut down and then she retaliates.”
Big Daddy K’s gaze lands on me. He licks his lips, and an unsettling feeling falls on my shoulders. “I’m wondering if Fonz will settle this with a good old-fashioned fight. If she wins, we give up the fight ring in the Heights.”
“What?” Johnny explodes. “We built that business.”
Big Daddy K holds up a hand. “If we win, we keep the rights to the Heights’ ring, and she has to move to another city.”
Johnny swallows. Indecision marking his face. “It’s a lot to lose. We built the Crew on that fight ring.”
“We have other ventures that can sustain us if we lose it,” Big Daddy K says. “But the point is to win, too. If we win, she’s out of our hair for good.”
“So, a fight?” Oscar says, musing. “Our best against her best?”
Big Daddy K nods, crossing his legs. There’s an air of mischief underneath all his actions though, making me feel like this is bigger than what he’s just said. Also, he keeps staring at me which is unnerving as fuck.
“Who will fight for us? Brawler?” Johnny asks. I can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s already two steps ahead. He may be Big Daddy K’s son, but he’s earned the spot he has. He shakes his head. “He’s not even a part of the Crew though.”
“I had someone else in mind,” Big Daddy K says. He turns his gaze to me and understanding punctures the brief oblivious bubble I was living in. Of course. This is his way of vetting me.
