Page 9 of Sinful Chains

I studied the photo again. Could’ve been somebody’s granddaddy.

Oh, well. Not our problem.

“We doing this clean or messy?” Titan asked, still flicking that lighter.

“Clean,” I said automatically. “In and out.”

Cruz made a face. “You never let us have any fun, tight ass nigga.”

Well, yeah.

Killing ain’t fun.

I lowkey wished itwas. Maybe then I wouldn’t second guess myself so fucking hard.

Sometimes I sit around and ponder the moments when I end someone, wondering what part of the circle of life this shit is and whether I’m a predator, or simply thepurveyor of a very violent and very expensive niche service.

This definitely wasn’t the life my parents saw for me. Darius and Whitney had grand plans for me, and I carried them out. They’re proud of their baby boy, but only because I’m a straight arrow in the life they see. This other shit, though…

Every man has two sides, I suppose.

The irony of it all is that they fought hard to keep me away from my father’s criminal side of the family. Called them hoodrats and degenerates. Them folks lived in backwoods Georgia, laundering money and killing rivals like it was a nine-to-five job. My pops was the side baby of the man who started that business. He never wanted anything to do with it, even going so far as to move to Miami to put distance between him and them. Now, both his half brothers are dead, my grandfather is dead, and I’m a respectable college professor, raised up as the apple of my parents’ eye.

And I happen to do murders on the side.

I tossed the folder back onto the pool table. “Location?”

“Penthouse suite at the Optima,” Titan answered without looking up. “Old ass motherfucker has a security detail, but it’s light. Just two on rotation.”

I nodded, feeling uneasy. “Who’s lead on it?”

Cruz smirked. “You don’t want it no more?”

“I’m good with whoever wants it,” I said, irritated now. “Just being generous with y’all ungrateful niggas.”

Cruz laughed. “I’ll take it.”

Shit felt so different with Rev gone. Less smooth, really. We'd been four men with four different skillsets that all complemented the others. A well-oiled machine chugging along without issue. Now, we were a near-completed puzzle with a major piece missing, and we'd never be whole again.

With logistics out of the way, I sat back and sighed in frustration. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them my confidence was shaken. I already knew how it would go. They would clown me, then gas me, and I’d pretend everything was fixed while my mind worked overtime to remind me it wasn’t.

They knew me better than anybody else in this world. We had a brotherhood bonded by time, circumstances, and blood.

“Aye, I have a question for you.”

I looked over at Titan, quirking an eyebrow.

“Why did you let Santari go last night?”

I exhaled through my nose. “Told you. I had a lot on my mind.”

Cruz chuckled, tossing his apple core into a nearby trashcan. “Sounds like excuses to me.”

“Does it also sound like it’s ain’t y’all business?”

Titan’s eyebrows went up. “Since when?”

I had to laugh, because, well, fair enough.

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