Page 105 of Dope Boys: Most Wanted
“Svyn take him. Go,” Reign urged while the women around her silently mourned. “I got them. Go.”
Markus walked backwards as if he were in a daze. He was. He watched many souls depart regardless of their eternal destination, but Aunt Lucille? This was bound to gut him and pull at the seams until he unraveled. That weight he’d become comfortable with seemed like it was crushing him. He couldn’t break. He couldn’t fold.
He moved to Svyn’s car and climbed into the passenger seat. “Call every nigga in this city and tell them Angel’s head is in fuckin’ mine.”
Svyn nodded and sent the word out before taking Markus to every spot in the city Angel was known to frequent before ending up at the trap Markus shut down months before. The black car was parked haphazardly in the back.
“That’s the same car Nia saw last night,” Svyn pointed out. “You think that nigga smart enough to get the fuck out of the city?”
Markus reached into his boot, grabbed another gun, and shook his head. “Nah. These niggas want my spot, I’m not handing the shit over. Take the back.”
As Markus stepped out, every shooter he had in the area had arrived and was waiting for his order. “You see that muhfucka,you bring him to me. I want to be the one to put the bullet through his chest.”
“We got you Money,” Bullet assured as Markus climbed the steps and kicked the door in. Immediately, shots rang out. Markus took cover and fired through the tattered walls.
“Come out bitch,” Markus growled. “You killed your momma, what kind of bitch ass nigga are you?”
“I’m the nigga about to be sitting on the throne! Fuck all you niggas.”
Markus peeped around the corner, finding Angel and the droplets of blood he left behind every step he took. He eased closer.
“All y’all did was overlook me and son me. I ain’t fuckin’ dumb. I’m a fuckin’ king and I’m going to show all y’all who the fuck I am!”
Markus fired a shot.
“Agh fuck!” Angel growled as Markus came into view.
“What you say? You? A king? Be a king and shoot me nigga. Stand up like a fuckin’ king and shoot me. Right here!” Markus pointed to his chest. “Do me like you did your moms. Do it!”
Markus’ bellow shook the house. Angel groaned and grunted as he inched his body over to the gun he dropped. Markus picked it up and then kicked him in the face repeatedly until his teeth were missing, scattered on the dirty floor, and his mouth bloodied.
“When I kill your bitch ass brother, I’ll let him know you went out just like the bitch I knew you were. See you in hell nigga.” He wrapped the handle of the gun in Angel’s hand, curled his finger on the trigger, and pushed it underneath his chin. “Night, bitch.”
One shot put Angel’s lights out, but the series of shots to follow were the floodgates of Markus’ composure giving way.
Svyn stood by watching until the clip was gone. “I don’t want them niggas seeing you like this.”
Markus stood over his cousin’s lifeless body, tears uncontrollably falling from his eyes.
“I’m sending them away.”
Every word Svyn spoke and every sound he made sounded like he was in a vacuum. Loud and muffled at the same time. Heart heavy in shattered pieces for what? Hunted by the blood he put on for what? He was the most wanted and not by any entity other than the one he shared space left. For Markus, it felt like hours from the time he walked out of the trap to the time he arrived at his cold, empty home. He couldn’t be around Reign. Not like this. He couldn’t offer Nia any solace. And his guilt of prolonging the inevitable wouldn’t allow him to look at Aunt G or Ms. Ophelia. His demons needed him in isolation. So that could gnash and pull him away from his path. So they could kill him the way every enemy he had wanted. What they didn’t know or understand was that Markus had life in the making. One soul had to exit to usher in the next.
There wasa sickness that zapped Reign from the sleep she’d fought to get. The visions of Aunt Lucille’s transition played on a highlight reel. They were all sitting around the living room, laughing, joking about who would be the first of Reign and Nia to be pregnant. A joke because Lucille made it so in her powerful whisper. Something to put a smile on Nia’s long face. It wasturning into a moment where Nia felt surrounded by comfort to allow the women around her to hold her up in her weakness.
For a moment, peace and joy were running through that home just like the pitter-patter of feet Aunt Lucille wanted. And in a blink, the first bullet broke the glass of the front door and whizzed between Reign and Aunt Lucille. Another into Aunt Lucille’s chest, and then a rain of them. Broken glass, screams, gunshots firing all around her, and all she could do was hold the woman who had blessed her with her power.
“Carry my family,” Was what Aunt Lucille whispered to Reign with her hand deliberately pressed against her stomach. Reign didn’t pay attention to that. There was just so much blood. Her mind was focused on doing whatever she needed to do to stop it. To keep her with them.
While Reign brushed her teeth and gingerly patted her face dry, sure not to aggravate the cut from the glass, she groaned to herself. “Are you?”
A question that there wasn’t time to answer when there was a grieving family in her home. Aunt G left shortly after Markus and Svyn sent someone from the funeral home they owned to collect her sister. Ophelia, Nia, and Reign stayed until the early hours of the morning blotting the blood and matter from the carpet. Their tears mixed with cleaning solution served as their own solvent. Their offering.
Reign took the still moments to breathe, let the tears fall before she straightened her spine to carry Lucille’s family. They needed nourishment, a shoulder, and as much rest as possible from now until laying her to rest. Reign’s meditation was cut short by a muffled sob.
“Oh, Nia,” Reign hummed to herself as she left her bedroom void of Markus.
“Nia,” Reign buzzed, easing into the guest room across the hall from hers. The one Markus refused to sleep in because it’dbe too close to her while he was respecting her distance. That was then. Reign took in briefly how far they’d come.
