Seth found himself on the wrong end of a Saturday Night Special.
He dropped to the ground, screaming as he held onto both of his knees. The pain must have been so bad that he didn’t know which one was hit.
“Greedy, just plain greedy,” Milan said, keeping a steady grip on her gun as the other men of Seth’s crew inched back. “The man brought what you asked for, and you still aren’t satisfied. Just like the rest of your family.”
“My family?” he shot back, writhing on the ground. “They’re your family too.”
Milan rounded the reception area, moving past a low table loaded with magazines. “You all haven’t been anything to me since Mama showed me the door. So don’t be claiming I’m family now. Take the money and get the hell out.” Toni signaled to her, then pointed vigorously at Tamika before she flashed a glare that way. “And take her with you.”
“What did I do?” Tamika shrieked, clutching her fake pearls.
“You’re the one who tipped my brother off to what was going on with me,” Milan said, causing Dani to move away from her office and close the distance between them.
“And what did you have to gain by doing that?” Milan snapped.
“He’s my man,” Tamika sobbed into her hands. “I was just telling him he needed to be a lot more like Vikkas in the way he came all up in here for you. When he asked for your name, I didn’t think anything of it. When I said Milan, he just smiled. Then he said we could make us some quick money. I didn’t know he was going to do this.” She looked at Milan. “I’m so sorry.”
“About what?” Milan snapped. “That you put everyone in jeopardy to line your pockets? Really?” She poked an index finger in Tamika’s chest. “Exactly what do you think would’ve happened with this many witnesses? Just let us go our merry little way?”
Several people in the office gasped. Dani lost every ounce of coloring. Tamika nearly turned green and stumbled backward under the realization she could have gotten everyone killed.
“You might want to split the money up before you leave,” Shaz suggested, causing Vikkas and Milan to look in his direction, wondering why he would have them stall in order to do that.
Seth crawled forward, reached into the bag, pulled out a handful of bills, but couldn’t manage much more. One of the men near the door came forward, tossed a stack to each of the men, though the leader looked ready to protest. Tamika held her hand out and Seth looked at it as if to say I wish I would. She crumbled under the weight of his disdain.
“Wait,” Milan said, and the men froze. “How much is thirty pieces of silver worth these days.”
“About six hundred dollars, give or take,” Daron offered.
“Seth, break her off at least that much.”
Grumbling, he did, practically whimpering with pain, then signaled to the rest of his crew that it was time to exit. Two of them lifted him and had to carry him out the door. The others kept their weapons drawn until every last one of their crew and Tamika had cleared the building.
Kaleb spoke into his watch. “You handled that?”
“Indeed,” Jai replied.
“They’re all over them,” Dro chimed in.
Sirens blared, and within seconds the employees rushed toward the windows and watched as Seth and the rest of the men were blocked in and rounded up.
Milan placed a hand on her hip. “They didn’t even know what they did here, so how are they—”
“I may have tipped them off to the fact that there was some counterfeit money involved,” Jai said, slipping the rest of the way through the door before he came to stand next to Reno and Grant.
“Counterfeit?” Milan screeched. “You paid for me in Monopoly money? I should put a bullet in you just on—”
“No, we set them up with counterfeit money,” Daron explained. “Knowing it’s at least a fifteen-year prison sentence for each one of them.”
“And don’t forget the fine,” Dro chimed in. “One that they probably won’t be able to pay.”
“All this without anyone getting shot,” Shaz said with a smile.
“Well, about that,” Vikkas said with a pointed glare at Milan. “Gunslinger here put a bullet in her brother.”
“Damn,” Shaz said, giving Milan a nod of respect.
Milan folded her arms across her full breasts. “Payback. He put me in a broken fridge when I was ten and left me there until I damn near died. He had it coming.”
“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Vikkas said, kissing her temple.
“You are on my bad side. Monopoly money, really?”
“Wheeeeew, look at the time,” Grant said, causing the others to laugh.
Daron held his hand out for Milan’s weapon. “We need to make sure your woman gets a little more target practice. She was aiming for the nuts and hit his knees.”
“Hey,” Vikkas protested. “She knows how to shoot. We all had weapons and martial arts training at Macro.”
“Never understood that for him to be such a peaceful man,” Shaz said, placing his locs over his shoulder.
Jai chuckled. “He said peace was the preferred choice, whipping ass was always on deck if warranted.”
“Someone’s going to give her up for that gunshot. Do you have a conceal and carry permit?” Dro asked.
“Of course.”
“She’ll be out of processing in no time,” Shaz said.
“I’ll bring bail money,” Daron said.
“No!” Vikkas and several of the brothers chorused. “We’ll use plastic for this one.”
“Oh, come on, fellas,” Daron shot back. “It’s not like I don’t have the real stuff stashed away.”
“Dani, I’ll make sure that wall gets repaired,” Vikkas said, shaking his head as the men chuckled at Daron’s assertion.
Dani nodded, but her gaze was firmly planted on the other men who were with him. So were the eyes of the rest of the women in the place. Toni was damn near hyperventilating with all the testosterone close by.
“And you all need more security here,” Daron said, leaning against the wall of Dani’s office. “It was so easy to get through the back. And these guys waltzed in here without—”
“It’s not in the budget,” she said.
Dro dropped down in the reception chair and swiveled to face her. “It is now. This place needs to be secured and you need guards to keep folks from just walking up in here all willy-nilly.”
“So, Vik,” Toni purred, moseying up to a panic-stricken Shaz and rolling one of his locs between her fingers. “Which one of your brothers is single?”
“Careful fellas,” Vikkas warned. “She wears two pairs of drawers. Must be some powerful—”
“You don’t even want to know,” Milan said, nudging Vikkas into silence.
The brothers gave each other curious glances before Toni huffed and stormed to her desk.
CHAPTER 41
KHALIL GERMAINE
The overstuffed couch and potted houseplant in one corner of the private room were designed to make patients forget they were in the hospital. Pity Varsha Germaine insisted on disturbing his peace.
“If you do not have Vikkas consent to marry one of the Gupta sisters,” Varsha said to Khalil. “I no longer want to be your wife.”
“Somehow that’s not the threat you expect it to be,” Khalil said, adjusting himself on the hospital bed. “And I will humbly accept your offer of divorce.”
Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Wait, I did not—”
“You did mean it and so did I,” he said, smiling because the freedom he felt in this moment was profound. Khalil’s gaze traveled to the shaded window. When he focused on Varsha, his smile disappeared. “You will be well cared for. But I release you and myself from the bondage this marriage has been for both of us. I wish you a good life.”
Varsha gripped the bed’s silver railing. “The family will strip you of everything. Even your beloved Castle.”
“Ah, the claws come out again,” he whispered.
“I have never wanted for any good thing and The Castle is now in the hands of its rightful owners; people who will see to its progression. There is nothing my family or your family is able to do.” He inhaled and let it out slowly. “And since you were the one to issue the divorce request, I am clear of conscience and obligation.”
“You can’t prove I said anything of the kind,” she huffed, lifting her chin in that haughty manner he had always disliked.
“Oh, but I can,” he said, pressing a button on a newly implanted device his security director had given him. “Daron, would you be so kind as to play that back for my wife?”
She gasped as her words came through loud and clear over the speaker. She recovered, a smirk on her lips as she said, “Then it will also show that I recanted.”
“Will it?”
Realization dawned on Varsha, and her hand flew to her bosom. “You cannot do this. I—I—I will lose favor, status—and …”
“Did you think about any of those issues when you decided to threaten me because I will not force my son into an unhappy marriage?”
Varsha lowered her gaze to the industrial tiles.
Khalil placed a hand over her trembling one. “You might want to take this lesson from the wise words of the Godfather himself. “Don’t start none, won’t be none. James Brown, After Divinity 1988.”
Daron’s laughter echoed as Varsha stormed from the room.
CHAPTER 42
Two days had passed since the guests had graced their door. Dwayne would not entertain any conversation from anyone affiliated with The Castle, the Kings, or anything. Let his sister Val tell it, he was being a royal pain in the ass.
“Ladies, me and Dwayne will clean up since you did most of the cooking tonight,” Uncle Bubba said, causing Hunter to glance in his direction. “Hunter, you go with ‘em. Me and my guy right here need to have a Come to Jesus meeting.”
“That works for me,” Val said, hooking an arm under her soon to be sister-in-law’s arm. “Come on, Tiffany. Let’s relax on the balcony.” Hunter was right on their tails.
Dwayne gathered up the dishes and took them to the dishwasher. Uncle Bubba brought in the leftovers and began placing them in the refrigerator. While the dishwasher hummed quietly, Dwayne looked at his uncle and said, “I promised God and three white men I wouldn’t join up with the Kings of the Castle.”
Uncle Bubba gave a little grunt at Dwayne throwing his familiar words back at him. “Why? The TV and movies make it seem like all black men do is kill or get killed. But the Kings prove every day that Black and Brown men have value to themselves and to the world.”
Dwayne wet the dishtowel, soaped it up, then began wiping down the stove. “I’m glad the Kings do that, but what does that have to do with me? I’m nothing like them. Every single one of them has some measure of wealth. I’m not into all of that. I just want my students to thrive. I want to shape the minds of our youth. That’s my idea of success.”
“But wasn’t it you who said climbin’ the ladder of success sometimes feels like tryin’ to walk up a down escalator?” Uncle Bubba put away a box of aluminum foil he’d taken out of the drawer. “What you’re strivin’ to do for those boys is a good thing. But the young folk ain’t the only ones needin’ help.”
“The Castle doesn’t need me for sure,” Dwayne countered, pausing mid-stroke. “I mean, just think about it. They have got programs for every part of the city except the west side. We’re not good enough for them or something? We don’t live up to their standards?”
Uncle Bubba let out a long weary sigh. “I don’t think that’s it at all. I think they want to have a presence in every part of Chicago. And that’s where you come in.”
Dwayne averted his gaze. “Yes, but if that’s the case, they probably just want to exploit my students to bring notoriety to themselves. Not happening. The kids I help are too important to be treated like characters written in and out of a play just to make the leading man look good.”
Leaning back against the wall, Uncle Bubba listened silently, but his expression was forbidding, as though he had become tired of the excuses.
“I get the impression that the Kings are just another “good ol’ boys” club that runs on the ‘it’s not what you know, it’s who you know” philosophy,’ Dwayne admitted. “But having that mindset can cripple a person because the reality is that who you know might get you in the door, but it’s what you know that will keep you from getting tossed out that same door. At least, that’s the way it should be.”
Uncle Bubba straightened up. “I know you better than that, Dwayne. You research everything, especially if someone asks you to be a part of somethin’. So I know you know that’s not how the Kings roll. Every one of them were humble, didn’t turn their nose up at nothing. A couple of them are a little dark around the edges, but what I want to know is ... what’s really stoppin’ you from helpin’ them?”
Dwayne rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m just an educator. Not some high-profile attorney, or world-renowned businessman, or even a famous athlete. Just an educator.”
“I ‘spect they knew that when they asked you to join them.”
“So what good could I be to them?” he probed. “My strength is in helping boys become men.”
“Yeah, but sometimes good men need help becoming better men.”
Dwayne placed the dish he held into the sink. “What do you mean?”
“Well, some folks give up everything in life while they chase after their goals,” Uncle Bubba said, taking a seat at the table. “Even one or two of the Kings might have gone after fame and fortune at the expense of love. But look at you. You’re a successful college professor now. You reach even more lives by teachin’ English as a second language at night. Your charter school is almost open, despite all the hurdles placed in front of you.” He smiled. “And I know it’s going to be a success. And all along the way, you managed to keep the love of a good woman and the love of your family.” He gestured to the extra chairs in the living room that had been placed at the table to accommodate their hungry guests two days ago. “I’d bet at least a couple of the Kings wish they could say that. They could learn just as much from you as you can from them.”
Dwayne left the sink and dropped down into the nearest seat.
“And what I like most is that they didn’t laugh or correct me every time I mentioned Google.”
“I was surprised at that, Unc, considering that you kept saying ‘giggle’ instead of Google,” Dwayne protested.
“Yeah, but they knew what I meant,” he said, grinning. “All I’m sayin’ is that even Kings need someone to polish their crowns.” Uncle Bubba gave an affirming nod. “It’s time to stop hidin’ your light under a bushel and step into your greatness.”
CHAPTER 43
Dro sped through the gate of his parents’ family home in San Miguel de Allende. His hands gripped the steering wheel, flexing and relaxing intermittently. Being summoned by his father and having to travel back to Mexico hadn’t been factored into his schedule for the week. Not that he’d ever say no. Victor Reyes wasn’t a man anyone said ‘no’ to, especially family. He’d tested the waters to see if he could re-schedule for the following week when work wasn’t so hectic and The Castle business had been concluded, but his mother had shot that down.
“Alejandro, you know your father wouldn’t have called you home if it wasn’t important,” she’d said in fluent Spanish.
He knew it, but he’d tried anyway.
Pulling his rental in front of the six-car garage, Dro hopped out and grabbed an overnight bag from the back seat. Striding across the driveway, he took the stone front steps two at a time. His hand hadn’t reached the doorknob before it opened.
Their housekeeper’s ample body almost took up the entire space. Laura’s face relayed excitement at his arrival. Before Dro could escape, she yanked him into her firm embrace. His face was plastered against her bosom.
“Welcome home,” she cried, and her enthusiasm was conta
gious.
“Thanks,” he murmured with the little air he possessed.
She released him before stepping aside. “I’ve got your favorite chilies ready.”
He took a deep breath before picking up the bag he’d dropped at her embrace. “Thanks, Laura. Can you let my mother know I’m going to settle in, then I’ll be in to see Dad.”
“Why don’t you tell her yourself?” said a warm voice behind him.
Dro turned to see his mother walking towards him. Setting his case on the steps, he rushed to greet her.
“Hola, Mamá.”
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