“My son doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into,” Sunny said. “I will talk to him.”
“Nah,” Klax shook his head. “I came here to offer a solution, not just tell you about the problem. I can’t right my father’s wrongs, but I can say that shit had nothing to do with me or what I have going on. I know you’re out of the game, but I can offer Tron a seat at the high table. He can’t be the kingpin of Harlem, but he can be the man here. As you said, the little operation he has here is nice, but with my help, he can tighten up. Elevate. Be bigger than he ever imagined. I’ll go into more detail when we all have a sit-down. Can you set that up?”
“I can.”
“The sooner, the better.”
“How does tomorrow night sound? Here in the gym?”
“That sounds good.”
“But I have one requirement,” Sunny added with a mischievous look in his eye.
“And that is?”
“You get out there in the ring with one of my boys.”
“You serious?” Klax grinned.
“You want me to call this meeting, don’t you?”
“A’ight,” he shrugged. “I need to warn you, though, I have a mean right hook.”
“Let’s see if you can make it do what it do then,” Sunny said as they both stood to their feet. “And, son?”
“What’s up?”
“I know you don’t think you’re walking out of here with my gun, do you?”
Chapter 11
“The best view comes after the hardest climb.”
—Anonymous
Sunny
The morning after Kameron Turner’s son suddenly popped up, Sunny found himself sitting on the balcony of his three-bedroom apartment. He was wrapped tightly in his Ralph Lauren robe and had a steaming hot cup of tea on the bistro table beside him. Below were children playing on the nice playground, laughing and having what seemed like the time of their life. He’d grown so accustomed to his simple life that he had truly forgotten what it felt like to live lavishly. Or maybe it was that he just didn’t miss it. He was at peace, watching life move around him. However, it had taken life and its many experiences to put him in that mind-set. He should have known that his son would have taken on some of his early knuckleheaded ways. After all, Tron would have gotten it honest.
Sunny had been so focused on building a new life so that the old one could be left in the past he hadn’t thought for one second to ask his son how he felt inside. He wasn’t the only one who witnessed the loss of two people they loved. Tron was right there too. Sunny thought that if he could create something else for Tron to cherish, then maybe, those losses wouldn’t seem too much in vain, but he was wrong. Tron had lied to him to seek the revenge that Sunny didn’t. He had to admit; he was not the one who trained his son on the streets. No, that had been Kyan. Kyan had taken Tron under his wing when he was 18 and showed him the ins, outs, and how not to grab the rope, but to tug it. However, no matter how great of a street general Kyan had been, and still was, neither era was a match for Klax Turner. Sunny thought back to the sit-down and remembered how the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. There was something about Klax’s presence that spoke so loud and clear that Sunny had no choice but to respect it. What Klax didn’t know was that after he’d disarmed Sunny, Sunny almost put the blade he had in the pocket of his sweats on his neck. But something had stopped him. He couldn’t, because although Klax and Kameron shared the same blood, they didn’t share the same look in their eyes. When Sunny looked, he saw no greed there. Instead, he saw the same look he used to see inside his own eyes when he looked in the mirror: determination. Sunny figured that if Klax wanted to kill him, he would have done so when he took the gun. He figured what harm could he do by listening to the boy.
After hearing about what had been taking place, Sunny came to one conclusion. Tron may have won a few battles, but that was only because Klax had refused to entertain the war . . . as of yet. If Klax fought back, Sunny feared he would lose his son, and Tron was the only thing he had left. And he couldn’t have that. If Sunny hadn’t learned anything since being out of the game, he had learned that harmony was always the better choice. How powerful could any one man be if he was afraid to get out of his own way? So, if calling a truce was the only way to stop the bloodshed, then, so be it. He didn’t like that both Kyan and Tron had lied to him about Tron’s whereabouts, but that was a pea to a giant.
Knock! Knock!
“The guest of honor has finally arrived,” Sunny said when he heard the knuckles on the glass before the balcony door slid open.
“I came as soon as you called,” Kyan said and shook Sunny’s hand. “You sitting out here in the cold?”
Kyan slid the door closed behind him and stood with his arms tightly crossed over his chest. He was wearing a red Balenciaga hoodie, black jeans, and a cap on his head. Although well in his forties, Kyan always held a look of youth about him and carried himself with the swagger of someone half his age. He had never had children of his own, which was shocking given the fact that he always kept a string of women chasing behind him.
“It helps to keep my mind sharp. Have a seat with me.”
It was a request, not a question. Kyan, being his oldest friend in the world, could recognize the terseness in his voice. Although he did raise a brow, he sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the bistro table.
“What’s good, G?” he asked.
“You might be able to tell me better than I can.”
“I might be able to if you elaborate a little more,” Kyan joked.
“Where’s my son?” Sunny asked dryly.
“He’s in Denver, enjoying himself like any other young man his age.”
“I’m going to ask you again. Where is my son?”
Kyan sighed before clasping his hands together. “He’s been moving around Harlem.”
“And you knew about this?”
“I had an inkling, so I went to check it out to see what he was doing around those parts. He wants—”
“To be who I used to be,” Sunny answered. “But he wants it for the wrong reasons.”
“He wants what should have been his,” Kyan countered. “He would have been ten times the hustler that we were.”
“He already is that,” Sunny told Kyan looking him square in the pupils. “He doesn’t need to dig up the past to try to be that. The moment you found out what he was doing, you should have told me.”
“You’re right about that, and I apologize, Sunny. I thought I was being a good uncle to my neph, but I should have put my loyalty to you first. The young nigga has heart, though. It reminds me of us back in our prime. I just wanted to help him flourish, that’s all.”
“And I can respect that. However, gunning for Kameron Turner’s son is not the move.”
“Why? Because you’re afraid what happened to you will happen to him?”
“No . . . because if he continues on this path, my son will become the new Kameron Turner. As ironic as this sounds, Kevin Klax Turner is the me of his era. As much as it pains me to say that, it’s true. Everything that I had hoped to accomplish during my time on top, he has already done in such a short time. He is more than a kingpin; he is a king. And because of that, he must be protected.”
“You’re saying that as if you know him,” Kyan pressed curiously.
“I know enough. You want to know why I didn’t want my son to go into the dope game?”
“Because of what happened to his mother and sister.”
“I can see why you think that, but you are incorrect. I didn’t want him to because I saw something greater in him. It took me awhile to understand why God had punished me so, but I finally understood. I was ready to let it all go and enjoy a long life with my family. But you and I know that there is only one way in and one way out. There was an exception made for me, a painful one, but an exception, nonetheless. I wanted to lead my boy down a different path, but fate tempted him toward something else. And since this lif
e is what he’s choosing, he needs to learn that sometimes princes are meant to stay princes, and there is nothing wrong with that. There is still a throne. I need you to get my son home. Tonight. By eight o’clock.”
“Why eight o’clock?”
“He’ll see.”
“And what if he doesn’t want to come?”
“Remind him that he washes all of his money through my businesses,” Sunny said flatly.
“Well, that’ll do it,” Kyan said with a grin. “I’ll get on it. Is there anything else you want to tell me before I skate up out of here?”
Sunny looked at him and mulled briefly over telling his longtime friend about the meeting that night with Klax, but he thought better of it. Instead, he picked up his glass of tea and drank the rest of the hot liquid before he shook his head.
“Not right now, brother,” he said. “But I do have a question for you.”
“Speak.”
“When are you going to let this street life die? You might look young, but the truth is that you’re getting up there in age. We both are. Don’t you think it’s time for you to settle down and get married? Maybe even have some little bigheaded Kyans running around?”
“I’ll settle down when the money slows up,” Kyan said with a grin. “Not all of us can open up a gym and be content with that.”
“Why not?”
“Man, Sunny, I’m not about to have this conversation with you right now. We both know what happened the last time you got to talking about getting out of the game,” Kyan said and lifted his hand for a handshake.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever, brother,” Sunny said and slapped hands with him. “You ain’t going to be saying that when you look up ten years from now and can’t look your legacy in the eyes.”
“Well, holla at me ten years from now,” Kyan said and stood up from his seat. “I’m gonna leave you to sit in this cold air by yourself. Let me go tell this boy he needs to hurry home ’cause he got an ass whooping coming.”
Sunny grinned as Kyan left. When he was once again alone and lost in his thoughts, he began to look forward to new beginnings. Back when he was younger, a merger with Kameron Turner was not the right thing to do, but maybe together, their sons could do something that neither one of them could have. Anyone else in Sunny’s position might have thought it crazy for him even to consider putting the two men in the same room together. Or even attempting to make a union with the blood that had spilled his, but it was what it was. New beginnings couldn’t happen if one were always looking at what once was.
Chapter 12
“If treachery is the reward of trust, will the man who
trusts come to harm?”
—Mahatma Gandhi
Tron
“Mmmm,” the soft sound of someone stirring in their sleep got Tron’s attention.
He looked down at the long, sleek hair on the head resting on his chest and found himself kissing the top of it. Kleigh had found her way to his home after the mayor’s birthday dinner, and he had been prepared to send her on her way, but when he opened the front door for her, he changed his mind. She looked beyond stunning, standing there wearing a red dress and holding an overnight bag. She told him that she wished she’d been on his arm that night instead of all alone. So, he made up for it by massaging her body from head to toe and listening to her tell him about her night until she fell asleep.
Now, there they were entangled in each other’s arms as the sun came up. He could honestly admit that no other woman could say that he’d cuddled her, but he wanted Kleigh to feel at ease. He wrestled with his conscience to convince himself that was the only reason he didn’t push her off him. In the fast life that he lived, women were good for one thing and one thing only: a quick fuck. Once that was over, he sent them on their way and got back to the money. He had never even played with the idea of having a lady, and that hadn’t changed . . . really. Still, he found himself kissing her forehead in her sleep before he could stop himself.
“Kissing me in my sleep, huh?” she mumbled cutely with her eyes still closed. “I must make you feel some type of way.”
“Maybe, Sleeping Beauty. That’s a problem for you?”
“No, I like it. Because you make me feel some type of way too,” she said, snuggling a little closer to him. “Ever since that first time we met, whenever I think of you, I feel like a ray of light is inside of me. There is something about you, Tron. And I don’t want you to go away until I figure it out, OK?”
She finally opened her eyes and looked up at him. Even her bare, morning, sleepy face was beautiful.
“A’ight,” Tron said although he knew he was lying.
He had been so busy trying to deal with and enjoy the present that he didn’t once think about what it was going to do to her when she found out that he’d lied.
“Can I ask you a question?” she asked.
“You just did,” he teased, and she pinched him. “Ouch, girl!”
“Well, that’s what you get for being stupid when I’m tryna be serious.”
“A’ight, man, what’s the question?”
“You don’t want to fuck me?”
“What?” Tron asked, tickled by the forwardness of her question.
“I mean, last night after I got out of the shower, I was naked,” she said, looking into his eyes. “You massaged my entire body before I got dressed, and you didn’t once try anything. Do you not find me attractive?”
“Have you seen yourself in the mirror? Who wouldn’t find all of that attractive? You’re beautiful—beyond it, Kleigh. Don’t play with me.”
“OK, well, if you feel like that . . . Why didn’t you make love to me? I wanted you to,” she said, and for a second, their eyes locked intensely. “So, why didn’t you?”
“You’re a virgin,” Tron answered.
That was partly the truth. The entire truth was that he didn’t want to take something so sacred from her when he would eventually be the one to break her heart. He didn’t anticipate falling for her. He didn’t even know where he was falling. All he knew was that he was dropping at 1,000 miles per hour wondering when he would land. The emotions she sent through his body were foreign to him, especially feeling them so soon. He’d heard of a thing called “love at first sight,” but he thought it only existed in white romance movies.
“OK, and what does that have to do with anything?” Kleigh asked, propping her head up on her hand. “I’m falling for you, Tron; I can’t help it. It’s something that I want. My virginity is mine to give, and I want you to have it. So, it doesn’t matter if it’s today or tomorrow . . . You’re gon’ be deep inside of me sooner or later. So why not now, baby?”
The way she said “baby” made his manhood jump to attention. Her voice was so soft and sexy, and the way her fingertips lightly rubbed his chest did something to his breathing. He knew what she was doing, and he was trying his best to remain unmoved, but it was proving to be impossible.
“Don’t do that,” he said in a low voice.
“Do what? This?” Kleigh leaned in and took Tron’s bottom lip in her mouth, sucking and running her tongue across it. “Or this?”
Her hand traveled down his torso and stopped at his groin. Then it found what it was looking for, and he didn’t stop her when she slid it inside of his briefs. He heard her inhale a small sharp breath when she felt his size, and her eyes lowered sexily.
“Damn . . .”
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Tron whispered. “Stop, please.”
But she didn’t. Instead, she stroked him up and down with her soft palm, making him even harder in her hand.
“I can handle it, I promise,” she assured him. “Just go easy at first.”
“No, that’s not what I mean,” Tron told her. “Please stop.”
“I don’t want to. I want you to please your body with mine. You can have me in whatever way you want. I’m a big girl. I’ll take it.”
“Uh-uh,” Tron shook his head and tried to keep the beast at bay for
a little longer. “I can’t.”
“Please, daddy,” she moaned and kissed him again. “Please. You’re making me beg you to fuck me for real? Fuck me! Please, just fuck me. Fu—”
Tron couldn’t hold back anymore. He snatched her hand from his boxers and pinned her down on the bed. They shared a heated kiss as he climbed on top of her and used his knees to spread her legs. As he kissed her, he pressed his thick manhood against her clit and ground down onto her. He let one of her wrists go so that his hand could slide down the side of her face and stop to grip her neck. He drew his head back and looked down at her for reassurance.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked. “Because I can wait.”
“Yes,” she breathed and gently moved one of his locs from his face. “I’m giving myself to you, Tron, because you are the only man in this world ever to make me feel butterflies in my chest. Time is just a figment. A few moments can feel like forever, and forever can be a few seconds. So, yes, I’m sure.”
Their lips found each other’s again briefly before Tron’s hunger for her body took over. He ripped the thin camisole she’d worn to sleep down the middle and licked his lips when her perky breasts bounced free from their cage. Her light brown nipples stared him in the eyes, begging him for moisture. He took one in his mouth and rolled the other between his fingertips, switching when he felt like it. She tasted so good but felt even better wriggling beneath him from the pleasure jolts going through her body.
“Tron,” she moaned in a whisper. “That feels so good.”
He wanted to take his time and enjoy every inch of her body, so he went as slowly as he could. He kissed her belly down to her boy shorts underwear underneath the covers. He kissed her plump lips through her panties and inhaled the sweet scent of her womanhood.
Carl Weber's Kingpins Page 12
