Page 165 of Riot

Madeira.

Sprawled out across the marble foyer. Eyes open. Lifeless. A smear of blood behind her skull. One hand still clutching the hem of her apron like she died trying to fight. Trying to run. Trying to protect my mother.

Creed knelt beside her like the air had been ripped from his chest. “Damn. Auntie…”

He checked her pulse even though we both knew that she was gone. It was too late. Havoc didn’t know when to quit.

My heart split open at the sight of it. But I couldn’t break. Not now. Madeira was my heart and he ripped that away from me.

I turned away, bile burning the back of my throat, and stormed deeper into the house.

We moved silently down the hall towards the family room, until I heard her voice.

Screaming.

“Kill him!” she shouted, voice raw and desperate. “I’m dying anyway! Shoot that fake-ass King and end this!”

I burst into the room firs, gun raised, body tense, ready.

And there he was.

Havoc.

Smiling like a fucking lunatic, with my mother pinned to a chair and a gun to her temple.

Creed came in right behind me, eyes bloodshot, trembling with fury.

“Don’t move,” Havoc warned, waving the barrel between us. “You shoot, she dies.”

“She’s already dying,” I growled, keeping my weapon trained on him. “Or did you forget you poisoned her?”

That smile faltered. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The lead,” I spat. “You’ve been slipping it to her. Slowly. Like a coward.”

He scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. If I wanted her dead, I wouldn’t take the long way around. But listen, I’ll walk away from y’all and all of this. I want $20 million in cash and to not be hunted. That’s all. And you’ll never hear from me again.”

“Nigga please,” I scoffed.

“You expect us to believe that?” Creed snapped, his voice shaking. “After what all the other shit you’ve been doing?”

Havoc’s eyes flicked to Creed, then back to me. “I ain’t poison this bitch. I was about to leave her out of all of this even though she deserves it.”

“Liar,” Creed hissed.

Tessa was still snarling, spitting fire from the chair. “You think this makes you a man? You think Silas would’ve been proud of this?” My mother was out of her mind. I knew it was the cancer and lead poising but none of us cared whether Silas would’ve been proud of us.

But then his mask cracked.

He looked down at her like he might cry. Like there was still something human under all that rage.

“Silas,” he said, the name sour in his mouth. “That bastard raped me.”

The air left the room.

Creed froze.

Even my hand dropped an inch.

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