Page 48 of The Price of My Sins

Gravel crunched beneath my tires as I pulled up to Deuce’s warehouse, heart hammering so loud I barely heard the engine cut. When I got inside, there were over twenty niggas standing around as Boston barked off orders.

“Hey, is the call still connected?” Deuce jumped right into action.

“Yeah. But I ain’t heard shit since. Fuck! I need to find her, man.” I raked my hand down my face, sighing.

“I ain’t gonna tell you not to worry, my nigga, because I would be on the same shit, but we gonna get sis back,” Deuce said, trying to assure me, but my mind was on nothing but murder.

Josh thought I was some regular nigga with a little money, but what he didn’t know was that I’m a trained killer. I wasn’t just a businessman or a driver for Deuce. I was his muscle from time to time and had dropped plenty of bodies, and that nigga Josh was next.

“Bo, you are going to get a text from a number. Text back Olivia’s cell number. It’s Tariq. He is going to track it,” Boston said just as my phone went off. I quickly sent over the information before locking my phone, ignoring everyone else.

I began pacing, my mind racing. I was trying my hardest to keep my cool, but this shit had me all the way fucked up. If something happened to Olivia, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. I should’ve been bodied this bitch-ass nigga, Josh, but with all the stuff going on with getting my mother released and then finding out who my real father was, the shit was put on the back burner. Now, this nigga had my fucking girl.

“She’s what?” I heard Deuce yell, and I stopped to look at him. “Okay, Lex. I’m gonna bring sis home. Calm down before you upset my baby. I love you too.” He disconnected the call and looked over at me and said, “Nigga, why didn't you tell us Olivia’s pregnant?”

“Pregnant! Wait, what?” my voice cracked as I said it, but I didn’t care. Everything in me stopped, and the tears I’d kept at bay released themselves, slowly falling down my face.

Deuce stepped forward, slower now and serious. “Lex just told me. Olivia found out a couple of days ago. You ain’t know, bro?”

“Nah. She ain’t tell me.” My knees felt unsteady. My mind scrambled for air so it could continue to function. I sat down on one of the metal chairs, head in my hands. “A baby? Why didn’t she tell me?” I said more to myself. “My woman could be out there, tied up and in pain, and she’s carrying my child? I need to find her, man.”

I stood up so fast that the old metal chair beneath me screeched against the floor and clattered back. I grabbed the chair and threw it. It crashed into the far wall, hitting a stack of crates with a metallic bang that echoed throughout the space.

My phone rang, and I quickly answered it without seeing who was calling. “Yeah,” I said, putting the phone on speaker.

“You got time to play a game?” the caller asked before laughing.

“Who the fuck is this?” I barked because I wasn’t in the mood for games.

“The nigga that got your bitch! Now, you listen. I want two… wait. Nah, I want five million dollars. I know you got it. If not, borrow that shit from them big-timers you hang with. If you don’t have my money within the hour when I call back, I’m offing this hoe!” Josh ended the call, and I was thirty-eight hot!

“We ain’t giving that mothafucka shit! Tariq got a hit. Her phone is pinging just forty minutes from here. Are you strapped?” Deuce asked.

“Nigga, I own a gun shop. I stay strapped.”

“Say less. Let’s roll!”

We filled out of the warehouse, andI jumped into my ride—Deuce and Boston hopping in with me. We cut the forty-minute drive into thirty, not caring who attempted to stop us as we raced to the pinging location.

Night had fallen by the time we pulled up on the block where Tariq said Olivia’s phone was. My adrenaline was pumping as we all hopped out, and that’s when I noticed all the fucking trucksthat were flooding the block. I wasn’t shocked at how my boys got down. I was just shocked because I didn’t know Deuce and Boston would go this hard for me, and that shit hit differently.

We walked the block, not really knowing where the fuck we were going. We were just hoping to find something to lead us to my girl. That’s when I spotted Olivia’s Lexus parked in the driveway of this house along with another car that looked to be a Crown Vic. The shit looked like a detective car. There were no lights on in the house that I could tell, and the porch light was off too.

“We're letting you take the lead on this one,” Deuce stated. “The rest of y’all know what to do.”

With that, all you heard was guns cocking as I made my way up the porch steps. I didn’t even worry about checking the locks; I raised my foot and kicked the bitch off the fucking hinges. It shattered open under the force of my foot, slamming against the inside wall like it knew better than to get in my way.

I stormed in like a tornado, ready to wreak havoc on the city. My boys were behind me along with a few of Deuce’s soldiers. As we were about to check the house from top to bottom, I heard yelling from down the hallway. There was a door open leading to what I assumed was a basement. I pulled my gun closer to me, taking the steps two at a time. When I got to the bottom, my heart dropped, but I felt a bit of relief seeing Olivia alive, although she looked brutally hurt. She was strapped to a bed, face bruised, lip split, but still, she was alive. Her eyes locked on mine, wide and wet with pain, but there was still fire in them—that fire I fell in love with.

Two shots rang out. I don’t know from who, but that nigga Josh, and who I noticed was the fucking detective, was on the floor, both holding a wound to the kneecaps. I stormed over to Josh, fury pushing me faster than my legs even wanted to move.He looked up, eyes wide with pain and panic, trying to crawl backward, leaving a streak of blood behind him.

I went for Josh first and started raining punches down on his face. Fist after fist, each one fueled by the image of Olivia’s blood, her bruised skin, and her tears. His nose shattered under my knuckles, blood spurting across the floor. I didn’t stop, even after he stopped moving.

After I was satisfied, I turned around and walked back over to Detective Jordan, who lay, holding onto his knee as he stared up at me with rage in his eyes.

“I know what this is…” he breathed out. “I should have killed that bitch, just like you killed my brother! I know your mother wasn’t the one who shot him. I hope both you and your bitch of a mother burn in hell!” He hawked and spit, missing me by a few inches.

Hearing his confession about being that nigga Henry’s brother shocked me, but not enough to stop me from putting a bullet in his head.

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