This shit was personal for me for reasons I couldn’t explain to nephew at the moment. One thing was for sure: God knew that if I found Melissa before Javon did, she was a dead woman walking.

  Chapter 20

  Elias

  How I loved it when a plan came together so fucking well. Going at the Syndicate had been easier than thought. Getting the Mexican Cartel—well, the rogues—to go along with my plan was like manna from up above. It was amazing what hard work and determination could pull off.

  Now all I had to do was find that bitch Melissa, and I would find her. Believe that. Sending me texts telling me how weak she thought I was had to be the most comical shit I’d come across. That funky white bitch had the gall to call me weak? Wasn’t she the one who wanted to snuff her dear old Mama out for dough? Then her weak ass chickened out at the last minute. So I had to make sure she got me my money.

  Wasn’t no backing out of nothing once I got going. Once I set my sights on something, I didn’t stop until the endgame. A hostile takeover was what I was aiming for. If I crumbled the Syndicate from the inside out, then I could run North America with an iron fist.

  “Ay, boss. Got some fodder on the wire,” one of my men said as he rushed in.

  Camilo was one of my best. I nodded at the Brazilian brother. “Say what you gotta say.”

  “That cat we went at in New York, word is members of the Commission were with him. They’re telling me the Commission has a seat at the table of the Syndicate,” he said.

  I frowned and jerked my head back. “That’s absurd. Why would the Commission take a seat at the table of the Syndicate when they are pretty much the godfathers of all this shit? Who told you that?”

  Camilo chuckled. “Our connects on the street.”

  I flipped my hand. “Kill them. They’re useless.”

  He nodded. “As you wish.”

  “You find that bitch yet?”

  “No, but she left a trail. We have her on camera getting her hair cut at a salon in Riverdale on Highway 85. She’s looking like a redheaded Amber Rose right now.”

  I grunted low then smacked the woman between my legs. She flinched then whimpered while looking up at me. “Watch those gotdamn beaver teeth, bitch,” I fussed.

  She blinked back tears then said, “I’m sorry.”

  “I know. Now suck my dick and shut up.”

  “Of course,” she said.

  “Where did she go after?” I asked Camilo.

  “We lost her trail at a Quick Trip on Upper Riverdale Road.”

  “When was this?”

  “About four days ago.”

  That alone proved to me Melissa was indeed dumber than she looked. A smart woman would have been long gone. She robbed me of the money I’d left in a safe at a hotel room we shared. She had to know I’d have her head for that.

  As I spoke to Camilo about what the next move should be, a commotion outside the house caught our attention. Rapid Portuguese was being spoken as my men pointed in the distance, which told me something was wrong. I stood; my dick had all but lost its rigidness. The chick’s saliva left a trail from her mouth to my dick as it slapped her in the eye, but I’d worry about that later. I shoved it back in my slacks, then zipped up. I rushed from the front room to the outside where all the commotion was.

  My men were pointing to a building across from us. It was an empty warehouse. One I’d planned on using in the future. Up top was someone in a cloak. From my vantage point, I couldn’t really tell if it was a man or a woman, but I sure as fuck knew what a rocket launcher looked like.

  “Puta merda! Holy shit,” I yelled.

  I damn near tripped over my own feet running. One of my men screamed for everybody to run just before the missile from the launcher hit the house. The explosion knocked me from the front yard to the middle of the street. Debris cut into my arms, elbows, and back. Swore it felt as if I broke something when I hit the ground. I couldn’t stop moving, though. I looked over my shoulder to see half the mansion up in flames.

  Camilo grabbed my forearm and pulled me up. “Come on, familia,” he yelled.

  Has that nigga Javon found me already? Shit, he moves quick, were my thoughts as another missile hit the house. Just as I and some of my men crossed the street, an engine revving caught our attention at the end of the street. Somebody in a ski mask on a yellow Ducati picked the front of the bike up as they sped down the narrow street. I knew what the fuck was coming next so when the AK-47 came out, I took a swan dive behind a truck in one of my neighbor’s yard.

  Whoever was on the bike lit the path after me up like the Fourth of July. Once they had done all the damage they could, they sped off toward the exit of the exclusive neighborhood. There was no doubt that once they hit the street they were heading for the expressway.

  Once the heat died down, I looked behind me hoping to find Camilo, only to find he had been shot down in the front of my neighbor’s yard along with the rest of my men.

  “Okay, motherfucker,” I yelled to no one in particular. “You want to play, Javon? Let’s play, caralho. Prick!”

  Chapter 21

  Javon

  I was supposed to return to work. To step into the role of what my life used to be just to keep up pretenses, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. Instead, I sat in my car, listening to the engine hum. My gaze was fixated on three grave markers. Trio monoliths dedicated to the family I lost since becoming a part of the Syndicate and doing my damnedest to uphold a legacy I wasn’t sure I was right for. Too much was on my mind.

  The carefully etched names of CLAUDETTE VIOLA MCPHEARSON, CORY BAYANI WILLIAMS-MCPHEARSON, and INEZ JANISA BATISTA-MCPHEARSON latched on to my psyche.

  Along with the words: EMBRACED AS FAMILY AND UNITED IN HEART, MIND, AND SOUL.

  Too much had been lost.

  Too much had been compromised.

  I sat there, hand on my steering wheel. Music on a low timbre. While aware that the Forty Thieves were somewhere keeping me protected. Shanelle had given me the rundown on the intel she had gathered. I was impressed but not surprised at her tenacity and ability to get the information she needed. The fact that she had come up with anything was helpful in what I needed to do. Now, what had me shook was the ghost she had seen. Naveen had come to me, worried Shanelle may have been losing it. So he told me what, rather who, she thought she’d seen.

  I didn’t know what to make of that. Grief. Angst. Disillusionment of what we lost. However, the fact that I was staring at fresh flowers at Mama’s side of the grave, two sets, let me know something wasn’t right. Why? None of us at the house had time to visit the grave, and if we had, we weren’t leaving yellow roses and white lilies. Two sets of flowers directly from Mama’s garden in the back.

  Uncle Snap always left sunflowers from the garden with a mason jar of moonshine, while the rest of us would leave her orchids. Flowers she could never grow but loved to have in her house on Sundays next to her sunflowers. The importance of the yellow roses and lilies was simple. When we were kids and first came to Mama’s house, it was Mama’s yellow roses Cory accidently trampled in while running from her. After that, he’d always made sure to take care of them and bring her fresh roses on her birthday.

  Whereas, white lilies were Inez’s favorite flowers. I recalled Inez telling me that they reminded her of spring with Mama. Mama would make a big thing out of taking Inez and the girls to the science museum. Mama would stop near the park by a row of lilies and buy ice cream from a vendor for the girls. As she did so, Mama would always make sure Inez would share what she learned from visiting the museum. After, she’d pluck the lilies and put them in my sister’s hair, and they’d go have lunch at Pascal’s soul food. I knew this because they’d always come home and brag about it to their big brothers. We’d used to be salty about it, but eventually we got over it. We boys would spend our time cooking with Uncle Snap. I could still smell his cigars and pipe smoke while hearing Mama fuss about how dirty her kitchen was, while smashing fried salmon croquets, rib tips, grits, corn, and honey biscuits.

  The memories were bittersweet.

  Climbing out of my car, I walked to the grave then stopped. There was a packet wrapped in plastic against Mama’s grave, marked SEED. I looked around then picked it up. Ripping it open, I poured the contents out and my jaw clenched in anger.

  Melissa.

  Fuck her, really. She broke everyone’s heart and this family. Her disappearance wasn’t just a coincidence, especially with going through the accounts. She had a hand in this, and the fact that she left this specific package on Mama’s grave solidified that fact for me. She helped kill Mama, or she planned it. And at the end of the day, the poignant fact was this: Melissa deserved to die by family hands. Not the Syndicate.

  Rubbing the stubble at my jaw, I stared at what fell at my feet. I wasn’t sure if this was a trap. But the idea that Lissa thought that she could trip me up amused the darkness in my soul. Scanning the papers, I saw an address, a map, pictures of my product Ink in shipyards I assumed were in Miami from what Shanelle had found, and with it was a picture of Melissa with some suave-looking motherfucker. Immediately, I snatched everything up and went back to my car, grabbing my cell in the process. I needed to move quickly.

  “Shanelle?” I asked in a hurry.

  “Yeah, Von? Are you okay? Why aren’t you at work?”

  I slammed the door to my ride then started the engine. “No doubt I’m good, and we have other work to do. I need you to grab me some clothes. Black everything. Hoodie jacket, jeans, boots. Then meet me with Uncle Snap. I’ll text the address. How are you feeling? If you can’t ride with me, and you know what I mean, stay where you are, but I might need your sharpshooting,” I explained.

  Shanelle shuffled around the house and I heard it through the phone. “I want that grown-ass woman out of this house; then I can focus on being okay.”

  “Well, baby, unless you want to go dark and push her ass down some steps, I doubt Jojo is going to be accommodating to your needs in her leaving.” Getting to the highway didn’t take long. I rode as low-key as I could in my Lexus, then took a ramp that led to an empty parking lot near an old strip club. “Where she goes, he’ll go and we don’t need him doing that, especially with the ankle bracelet. We keep bitching, he’ll want and defend her more. That’s how it is.”

  “And that’s why you’re accepting of that . . . that . . . pedo-thot in our house?” Shanelle incredulously asked.

  “Pretty much, baby,” was my response. “Anyway, let me hit you back. Meet me where I texted.”

  “Wait. Just tell me yes or no. Does it at least piss you off?”

  Silent for a second, I sighed. “We all know what went down with Jojo, so yes, it pisses me off and I want to harm her in the most fucked-up way imaginable until she gets some intelligence in her dumb-ass brain. But, I figured you’d handle that eventually, baby. Mother of our child. Sometimes, these things are left to women, handling other women. I’m sure you’ll make me damn proud once you figure out what you want to do or not do. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Yes, you will. I love you,” Shanelle softly replied.

  “I love you too.” Hanging up, I quickly dialed my cell.

  “Alô, my ally and boss,” answered in my ear.

  “Alô, Amen. I’m sending you a picture via text. I need you to tell me if you and your wife know who this is, immediately. Tell me when you get it.” Driving with one hand, I took a picture of the image lying on my passenger seat of Melissa with the unknown man.

  I smoothly maneuvered through traffic and took an off-ramp, slowing down at a yield sign, then merging into the car lane.

  “Sim, I have it.” Amen’s deep voice bellowed out for his wife. “FaceTime us, my friend.”

  “Will do. Give me five minutes,” Hastily, I hung up then sped on until I got to my destination, which was the empty parking lot next to a sushi and steak house.

  Tapping into my secured Wi-Fi, I pulled up FaceTime and a monitor popped up on my dashboard. Immediately the faces of Amen and his wife Cintia appeared before me. Both were very good-looking people. Both were proud of their African features and ancestry. Amen and Cintia were the color of russet brown. Amen’s large afro was pulled back into a wavy ponytail that puffed in the back, while Cintia had twisted locs that adorned her oval face like a crown, wrapped in African-pattern head wrapping.

  “Any idea who that man is?” I asked immediately, not wasting time.

  It was Cintia who spoke up. “Sim. His name is Elias and we thought him dead.”

  “He is my elder brother and he had a right to our mother’s seat had he not gotten himself killed several years ago out of recklessness and greed,” Amen eventually said with sadness in his voice.

  My mind blew up. Here we were with another family who had internal issues. What the hell? “Explain,” I said, keeping my cool.

  “Elias wanted to be at the Commission table. He wanted to take over Mama’s shares and he began doing background work to push her out,” Amen detailed. “He linked up with rogues around Brazil, and began building his own empire and team. Quietly causing street wars as a means to attack us São-A’s. His goal was to cause discord and distract us by leaving our mother open for attack. It didn’t work.”

  “You see,” Cintia cut in, “Mama always was ahead of us with regard to family drama and underhanded dealings. So, when she found out, she ended him, as Amen was told.”

  Anger caused Amen’s brown eyes to shift to the color gray as he slammed his fists down in front of him. “We all saw him put into the ground. I do not understand how he survived.”

  “You all have a traitor in your ranks as well and it leeched over like a virus into the Commission. Your family drama has affected us, as well as my own.” Pain caused my temples to throb and I rubbed them. “He was a perfect fit for my sister then.”

  “What? I do not understand,” Amen said with wide eyes.

  I quickly explained everything and, as I spoke on, I watched the anger rise in Amen. In the middle of our discussion, he broke off and I watched him order men around then turn back to the screen.

  “You are dealing with a dangerous monster, Javon,” he stated with heat in his gaze. “He is not someone to take lightly. You kill him on sight when you see him. This is our approval. All I ask is his head delivered by you. My men in the States will be sent to assist you.”

  “If there is any more information we can share we will. As for now our faction will help you seize our product from Florida and distribute it appropriately,” Cintia said for her husband. She had her palm resting on his shoulder. There was clear love between them. Both were young, around my and Shanelle’s age, and it made me respect their adjustment to power in the Commission even more.

  “Indeed. We will touch base again soon. Until then keep your ears on the Syndicate circuit. They are hunting my sister,” I explained.

  “Of course—” Cintia started but was interrupted by her husband. Quietly, she folded her hands in her lap and watched the screen.

  “Javon. I, of all, understand the loss of a mother. What you did, it was necessary. My mother was a harsh woman who turned my brother into the monster he was. Sim, it hurt, pero, going after my brother. I wish my family could take that weight for you, but we can’t. In exchange, if we find your sister first, we will give her the same honor that I ask of you.”

  “I don’t want her head. Her body would be enough,” I quickly made clear.

  “But of course. Peace be still, my friend.” With that, Amen gave me a respectful nod then hung up.

  A soulful sigh came from me. I dropped my head back against my seat then took a second to compose myself. It was then that a familiar SUV rolled up. Some ways behind it was another car I knew to be the Forty Thieves. The door of the SUV swung open and out dropped Shanelle, clad in all black: leggings, a long, conformed top, bulletproof vest, her hair pulled back, a cap, and a mask. Shanelle looked my way then waved her gloved hand at me.

  I quickly got out of my ride, jogged to her, then pulled her into an embrace. “Here. This was left at Mama’s grave.”

  Shanelle took the packet and I moved to the back of the ride to dress, while nodding to Uncle Snap, who was in the passenger seat readying his weapons.

  “Really, Melissa? This is some foul shit. You’ve got to be fucking joking!” Shanelle quipped, shuffling through the papers and showing Uncle Snap. “Melissa did this?”

  Adjusting my dick in my pants, I zipped up my jeans, then sat to lace up my boots. “That she did, babe.”

  “Never in my life has anything gotten so hard for me or ya mother that we’d gun for each other. Nothing! Y’all understand me? Nothing?” Uncle was so livid that he was shouting. “We didn’t raise y’all to be this way. To kill the hand that loved, cared for, and fed you when they did nothing to you? No!” Spitting on the ground, Uncle Snap shook his head. “Disrespectful. But I bet you one thing, all of this is coming back on that child. She’s not of us anymore.”

  I stood back listening in agreement. I then grabbed the map with the address. “I need everyone to cover me. I’m checking out this address. If it’s a trap, I need you all to hold it down.”

  “That’s what this is about?” Shanelle asked then climbed back in the SUV. “I hope Melissa is stupid and shows up.”

  Shanelle’s smart comment made me laugh. I got in my car and took it to the address. All around was nothing but abandoned warehouses and buildings, except for a few houses. It was the one house that was nothing but cinders that pissed me the hell off. Climbing out of the car, I angrily strode to the house and looked around. There were scorch marks all around the house, including the street.