Page 66 of Royce
“Who? Aunt Castina?” he asked laughing.
“You know it. He had the nerve to ask me about her after I got out a few months back. That nigga still miss her.”
“Aye, it ain’t nothing like losing something you can’t replace. Just hit me when you ready.” He stood from the sofa and exited the room.
I snatched up my keys and phone before following behind him. Working wasn’t gon’ ease a nigga thoughts behind my family or my business. It was no point in sitting up here passing time when I could do that shit at home.
I made it to my whip but had a sudden urge to wreck a muthafuckas day even further. I was right and didn’t like being ignored. I checked My Baby’s location and saw she’d left the jailhouse and was around the corner from her crib. I leaned against my car just to see what she was ‘bout to do. Two minutes later, she was pulling into her old shit. I couldn’t help but laugh. I could understand dropping by to pick up some mail but as minutes passed and that icon didn’t move, I knew what was up.
“So, you leaving a nigga? Going to see him made you go back to that broom closet ass shit you called a house?” I voiced aloud.
I swiped back to the phone app and hit Striker. He answered instantly. “Yooo.”
“You got some lil’ niggas that can pull off a petty hit for me right quick?”
“How petty?”
“Go by Klarity old crib and snatch her car for me. Her dumbass ain’t answering my calls or text, and I’m really trying to keep my composure.”
“Keep it? Nigga this ain’t keeping yo’ fuckin’ composure and you know it. You ‘bout to have these niggas steal her shit so she can what?”
“Come home, call a nigga, answer my text… something! Look, I ain’t even trying to hear shit else. All I know is, she went home after visiting that fuck ass nigga so ain’t no telling what kind of bullshit she on. My daughter can’t have a good day without me bruh. I’m fuming right now.”
All I could think about was my kids. CJ was promised a day out on the tracks and Essence… well, she needed to hear or smell me to be content. This shit was for the birds. It wasn’t a time where anything that had my name on it wasn’t accessible. Klarity not answering for me and taking my kids to see that nigga without my permission had me ready to hurt a few folk just to relieve my anger.
“Sis got you wildin’. When you want this shit done? I can get some young niggas on it in like five minutes. I think Caine got some at the spot.”
“That’ll work and don’t say shit to a soul. We taking this shit to the grave nigga. Let them bulls know not to touch shit but that fuckin’ car. Don’t touch my fuckin’ wife and kids, and don’t pull out no fuckin’ strap. They’ll be on a shirt by the morning,” I threatened.
“I know nigga. Let me hit Caine, and I’ll hit you right back.”
“Bet.” Hanging up, I hopped in my shit and headed to the compound.
Caine was a lieutenant that ran the south side. He had two sergeants, five officers, and many throwaways under him. Since Walt was gone, Caine, Brix, and Rylo were the only lieutenants left. I had yet to appoint anyone to take his place which meant Striker handled the Eastside. He hated it, too. I wasn’t sure on who to put in his place, so I wasn’t in a rush to make moves. My lieutenants were supposed to be niggas we could count on but seeing how Walt switched, I wasn’t putting shit pass none of them.
I cruised through traffic listening to a local artists named Dahlia. Besides her and Roux, the Springs really didn’t have successful talent. Them two though had the city on their backs giving the Springs a golden light. I was proud of them for real and they made sure to be featured on each other’s tracks, so the folk knew there was no beef. That was how Black queens upliftedone another. Shit, Dahlia had a show coming up that I didn’t mind taking My Baby to if she got her shit together.
By the time I pulled up to the crib, my phone was ringing. I looked at the dashboard and read the name. “Oh look, a muthafucka know how to call a nigga.” I let it ring through to the voicemail as I chuckled. Seem like her shit wasn’t dead, broken, or tripping. She called me just fine. She called again and I was tempted to let that bitch go to the voicemail one more time. However, I knew my babies were with her, too, so I answered.
“Wassup, My Baby,” I answered as if nothing was wrong.
“Royce, some good for nothing young ass niggas just stole my car!” she shouted.
My cheeks hiked as a smile stretched from ear to ear. I was satisfied. “Can’t nobody steal yo’ car, My Baby, ‘cause can’t nobody get on the compound but family.”
“I-I’m not at home, Royce,” she replied hesitantly.
“What you mean? You said you was going to yo’ aunt daycare then coming to the house. That was hours ago, Ma.” I was baiting her in like a muthafucka. I knew where the fuck she been, so it was better for her to tell me than for me to bring it up.
“You asking all these questions when I just told you my car was stolen is fuckin’ crazy. My car is gone, Royce!”
“I heard you the first time. Where you at?”
“At home… in Southside Park. Can you just come and pick us up? Me and the kids don’t know what the hell to do right now. I’m not used to this kind of shit, Royce,” she cried. It lowkey pleased me that she needed me but then again, her life would never be the same. I was gon’ always be the one she called for justice and protection from now on.
“Hmph!I’m on the way. Riddle me this though, My Baby. I been calling and texting you for the last hour. Where you been?”
“Royce.”
