Guard the Throne

by Nisa Santiago

  Citi jumped up from the couch. “I’m leaving, Chris,” she spat.

  Chris stopped her. “You ain’t leaving by yourself,” he said. He nodded to one of his goons on the couch.

  A rough, muscular kid named Kadar stood up, his jeans sagging, his cornrows freshly done. He was tall, dark-skinned, and intimidating, with a scar across his cheek and eyes like fire.

  “Kadar leaving with you,” Chris told her.

  “I can take care of myself.”

  “I’m not taking any chances, and I ain’t playing around, Citi. He goes where you go.”

  Citi reluctantly agreed, sucking her teeth, and Kadar followed her out the door. With Kadar protecting her, and the gun he’d given her, Chris was able to breathe a little easier.

  28

  Chris sat slumped in the passenger seat of the tinted burgundy minivan that moved through the Queens street slowly this balmy night. Romo was the driver, and two thugs sat hidden in the back of the van, each man hungry for some action. Both young thugs had a semi-automatic weapon gripped in their hands as they cruised in search of Maino. They wanted to kill him before he got at them.

  With Cane recovering in the hospital, Chris felt he had to avenge his brother’s shooting and keep the Byrne name intact. Taking on Maino would be difficult and challenging, but he was ready for the backlash. He understood it took risk and heart to rise to the top, so he knew he had to become a full-blown gangster, nothing less.

  He also knew it was time to get from under Maino’s wing and branch out on his own. He put his networking skills to good use and linked up with a strong Dominican crew out of Washington Heights for his coke connect, made through one of the girls he was fucking. She was able to vouch for Chris to her cousin. Then, being Curtis’ son helped to close the deal with them; the Dominicans respected his father and Alonzo. They gave Chris some work on consignment, and he was flipping them birds like pancakes.

  The men smoked haze, passing time. They were itching to find Maino, but it proved to be harder than they thought. Maino had gone MIA. His strip club in East New York was closed, and he was nowhere to be found at the spots where he was usually seen.

  “Damn! Where the fuck is this nigga at?” Dark shouted from the backseat.

  Chris remained quiet. He was so deep in thought, thinking about his next move, he’d tuned out the complaints coming from his goons.

  As the hours passed, they were growing edgy and frustrated. Everyone clearly understood the situation when they went hunting for Maino—He would also be hunting for them. But it didn’t deter Chris’ young crew. They were all headhunters with a vicious appetite for violence and hearty criminal records.

  Romo pulled into Rochdale Circle, a vast structure consisting of twenty buildings in five groups. Each thirteen-story building had three sections.

  Chris said a few words to his crew, and they nodded in agreement. He then made his exit from the minivan with his pistol concealed in his waistband and his guard on high. It was a smart move to leave his old home in Baisley, but he still felt that he was vulnerable for an attack. He had the urge to go underground more, get out of Queens to a place where he could be invisible.

  The building was quiet. He made his way inside the lobby, his hand close to the pistol tucked in his jeans as he walked to the elevator. The gun was already cocked, and the safety was off. The only thing he had to do was pull the gun and shoot.

  ****

  Chris entered his apartment and found Citi standing out on the terrace. She was in her bathrobe and smoking a cigarette.

  “Citi, you okay?” he asked.

  She turned to see him. “Copasetic, big brother,” she said matter-of-factly.

  There was no smile or warm welcome, just heartache and worry.

  Chris removed the gun from his jeans and placed it on the counter. He walked into the kitchen, leaving Citi to be alone with her thoughts.

  Citi had gone to see Cane in the hospital every day, making sure he was being treated fairly. It was a risk, but Chris made sure she had Kadar with her at all times. The detectives were always around, waiting for Cane to awake. They had a ton of questions for him, but it would only be a waste of time. Cane was rock, no snitch. He despised police.

  Citi took a few more pulls from the Newport and sighed. She was stressed. She had tried to call Maino numerous times in the past two weeks, but got no answer. She went by his home on a few occasions, but the place always looked abandoned. The club was shut down, and Maino had seemingly vanished. Chris and Maino’s fighting was hard on Citi. The two men she loved now hated each other. It was a nightmare for her.

  She remained standing on the terrace for a while. It was a nice night. The stars were out, and from her apartment ten stories up, with Queens beneath her, she was in a whole new world.

  With Cane in the hospital, Chris and Citi became much closer. They talked more, and he started confiding in her about everything. She had proven herself. With his new Dominican connect, he needed to reach out. Citi had confirmed that she had resources of her own. Working with Maino and becoming his drug mule for months, she had made her own connections south on I-95, creating trust with the out-of-town hustlers. Some loved her swag, but many yearned to fuck her. She flirted with them and had gotten to know them better. She understood the game better than most men, having grown up around it all her life. She started to move her own pieces on the chessboard and was moving like a skilled player.

  “What’s up with your peoples in Maryland?” Chris asked as he came out the kitchen.

  Citi walked into the living room. “I talked to Silo today, and at the price ya offering him, he’s wit’ it.”

  Chris smiled. “I love you, sis.”

  “We a team, big brother,” she said halfheartedly.

  “Yes, we are. Fuck Maino!” Chris spat. “His time is up.” Chris went into his bedroom, leaving Citi alone in the room.

  Hearing her brother curse Maino out like that sent a chill through her heart. Chris was hunting for her man real hard, but she didn’t even know what their situation was any longer. She went back out on the terrace and continued staring at the city.

  ****

  The following night, Citi wanted to break out and get her mind right. She was tired of being alone. She had been cooped up in the apartment for several days, shedding tears and worrying about her brother and Maino. With Cane shot up, Chris at war, and her man vanishing, she’d had enough. It was time for her to escape the madness and have some fun.

  She got on the phone and dialed Lola.

  “What, bitch?” Lola replied dryly.

  “What you doin’ tonight?”

  “I’m goin’ out.”

  “Where you going?” Citi asked.

  “Big Kev got this new spot in Harlem.”

  “I’m comin’ wit’ you,” Citi said quickly.

  Lola fell silent.

  “Bitch, you forgot how to speak?” Citi joked.

  “Nah, it’s cool. What time you want me to come get you?”

  “I’ll be ready by ten tonight. That’s cool wit’ you?”

  “Cool. Don’t have me waiting, bitch,” Lola replied.

  “Bitch, I need to get out. So much has been goin’ on, but we’ll talk.”

  Citi exhaled as she hung up. She was ready to hit the town tonight. Business would be on hold for a few hours, and her shadow, Kadar, would have to take a break from her night out. She didn’t want anyone fucking up her groove for the night.

  Citi emerged from the lobby in her tight black freak-me dress that stopped mid-thigh and highlighted every curve on her body. She strutted toward Lola’s Civic parked in the circle in a pair of stilettos, her shoulder-length hair bouncing as she walked.

  She got into the car and quickly hugged Lola. She noticed Lola seemed distant lately. She couldn’t pinpo
int the reason why, but she was ready to have a good time with her friend. Lola drove off, and Citi was ready to do her.

  The small one-level Harlem club on Broadway was abuzz with revelers. The place was up to date with flat-screens, a lounge area, a high-end sound system, and a fully stocked bar. Citi and Lola entered the lively establishment like two divas. Dressed to kill, they were catching all the attention from the boys they strutted by. Citi was impressed. Big Kev seemed to have stepped up his hustle. The club was a moneymaker.

  Citi played the bar in her five-thousand-dollar dress, and her jewelry was outshining everyone else’s in the place. She made it unmistakably known with her demeanor and stylish attire that she was a boss bitch and getting money.

  Lola had disappeared somewhere with Big Kev, leaving Citi alone. When she saw Kev, he was friendlier to her than previous times. She figured word was getting around about her and her brother running things in Queens and making moves out of town, and he probably wanted to get put on. But Citi shunned Big Kev. She was only at his club to get her groove and drink on. Besides, she didn’t like the way he was playing her girl. He had her brainwashed on the dick. Citi didn’t want to harp on any ill feelings. She was out on the town, making money and looking fabulous. She was turning down drink offers and advances from the men surrounding her and keeping to herself. The men who came on to her didn’t meet her standards.

  The bartender handed Citi the mixed drink she ordered as Chris Brown’s and Fat Joe’s “Another Round,” boomed throughout the club.

  “Damn! You get more beautiful every time I see you,” she heard a man say from behind her, as she swayed to the music.

  Citi was ready to turn around and tell him to piss off. She wasn’t in the mood for lame pickup lines and horny niggas trying to get between her legs. She spun around with a scowl, but when she saw who it was, her entire attitude changed.

  “L,” she called out.

  “In the flesh, beautiful,” L replied with a smile. “It’s good to see you again, Citi.”

  “You too.” Citi beamed. “Oh, my God. You look good.”

  “Thanks.”

  Citi hugged him tight. Feeling L’s masculine arms wrapped around her put her somewhere special for a moment. She sized him up immediately. He was looking remarkable, almost good enough to eat. He was dressed in a classy button-down, black slacks, and gators, and his cornrows were looking fresh. His smile lit up the dim club, and his sexy voice sank into Citi.

  “You look amazing, Citi. I’m glad to see you finally come out.”

  “It’s good to be out.” Her attention stayed fixed on him, and she couldn’t stop smiling.

  “What you drinking?”

  “Sex on the beach.”

  “You need a bottle. And why you chillin’ by the bar, beautiful? You belong in VIP wit’ us, or me,” L said gently.

  “Are you inviting me?”

  “Can I ever turn you down?”

  Citi smiled. She lit up inside like a Times Square billboard. L had every reason to hate her and disrespect her, but he came to her like a gentleman, and that chemistry between them started to rebuild. It was good to see that L didn’t hold any grudges. Citi really needed a friend right now because Lola was probably fucking Big Kev, leaving her standing alone, surrounded by strangers.

  L took Citi by her hand and led her toward the VIP area. They had all the attention aimed at them. The goons and male partygoers were bowled over, seeing Citi’s thick, defined legs in that tight dress, her cheeky backside formed perfectly.

  Citi sat in the VIP area with L, and they quickly reconnected. He made her feel special. They drank and laughed, and instantly, L made her forget about her troubles with Maino, the war her brother was involved in, and everything else. Once again, he treated Citi like a lady, and she seemed to be more appreciative this time.

  “You busy, Citi?” L asked suddenly.

  “What you mean?”

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  “And go where?”

  “Somewhere nice, more quiet.”

  “But isn’t this your spot?”

  “I help run it, but this is Big Kev’s shit. I got other ambitions elsewhere.”

  Citi smiled. She left the club with L in his Benz, and they headed toward the West Side and parked on Riverside Drive. It was a nice fall night. Peaceful and warm. L and Citi got out the Benz and walked along the pavement. The view of New Jersey across the Hudson River and the illuminated George Washington Bridge from a distance was so tranquil and breathtaking.

  As they talked and took in the beauty the West Side had to offer, L stopped in his tracks and pulled Citi into his arms. The way he touched her certified his love for her. They stared across the river in silence for a moment. Citi loved the way he embraced her. She felt secure and safe. His arms were like a blanket of protection.

  “One day, I’ma run all this shit,” he said. “I know too much, been on the streets and in this game for too long, and right now, Kev is fuckin’ up. A few niggas ain’t happy the way he’s running things.”

  L’s ambition was music to Citi’s ears. To hear him talk about becoming a boss made her panties wet. She knew he had the potential. He just needed a push. “So why don’t you, baby?” she asked.

  “I gotta wait till the time is right.”

  “And when will that be?”

  “I don’t know yet, but it’s gonna come.”

  “What if I can make the time right for you?”

  “What you mean?”

  “I need to introduce you to my brother Chris.”

  The two started talking, and L was feeling what Citi had to say. He was the one who had held Big Kev down for so many years, the one who’d busted his gun and made his reputation, yet Big Kev somehow snaked his way to the top, mostly off bullshit and lies. But since they were boys, L kept quiet and stayed in the shadows to let Big Kev ride the wave. Now he was thirsty for more, and Citi was right on time to give him that extra push. She would become his muse.

  Citi spent the night at his place, and they had passionate sex. After their sex session, L held her in his arms for the entire night. Citi needed the comfort. She fell asleep against him, feeling a little bit of peace in her life.

  29

  Citi couldn’t help but beam with joy as she watched the heavyset nurse in her blue scrubs wheel Cane out of the hospital lobby and toward the minivan parked outside. Chris, Kadar, and Citi stood proudly by the van on the cool fall day. Cane had spent weeks in the hospital, most of the time in a coma, and then come the rehabilitation. Citi was there to help her brother pull through from day one, so this was a proud moment for her.

  Citi watched Cane slumped in the chair. She couldn’t stop staring at him. Physically, Cane looked himself, but he was weak. He’d lost a lot of weight. But the worst part was that he had to wear a colostomy bag.

  She hugged him. “We missed you.”

  Cane got a hug from Chris, and Kadar gave him a nod of the head. Everyone was so happy to see him coming home, but there wouldn’t be a welcome home/recovery party. It was too risky to have any gathering with Maino still out there.

  Citi knew the repercussions of becoming a boss bitch. She and Chris were taking over, and with money and power came hate, jealousy, and betrayal. She and L had a strong bond, and the chemistry between them was rock-solid. She fell in love with L, and this time she was appreciative of his treatment of her. He was a thug and gentleman. She saw the difference between his love and Maino’s. Maino was a piece of shit—a coward.

  Citi and L were becoming the urban Bonnie and Clyde, but their love also came with consequences. There was a falling-out with Big Kev, who didn’t like that she was filling L’s head with ambition. L had started to buy his work from Chris, and was becoming the Nino Brown of Harlem. A few harsh words were exchanged, and Big Kev made it
clearly known he would take action. A fistfight ensued, and L was the victor.

  Citi’s friendship with Lola became very rocky. Things had changed between them drastically, and she didn’t have a clue why. Was it jealousy? Was it Big Kev? Lola was allowing dick to come between them. Citi felt Lola was the stupid bitch, standing by a man like Big Kev, who treated her like a dog.

  ****

  Several days had gone by since Cane had come home. He was weak and confined to a bed. Chris had to hire a home health aide to tend to him twenty-four/seven. She was a young pleasant woman who loved her job and made it her duty to help Cane with his continuing recovery. It was costly, but worth the money. Chris felt comfortable leaving his brother in her hands. He had a business to run, and didn’t have the time to always look after him.

  Chris had to make a run to Washington Heights and meet with his Dominican connect. It was a monthly run, which he usually made with one of his soldiers, but this time he had to go alone because Paso wanted to have a sit-down with him. Their business relationship was strong, and over the months, Chris had built up trust with the Dominicans.

  Citi lingered in the apartment, keeping Cane’s company, while Chris went to meet with the Dominicans. She was hoping he didn’t go alone, but she knew he could take care of himself. As she relaxed in the apartment, she thought about L. His growth on the streets had been fast. He was locking down corners and finally realizing his potential. No longer under Big Kev’s wing, he was becoming the main muthafucka in Harlem. Citi saw her father in L—the way he treated her like a princess, the way he moved, almost stealth-like, his cool reaction to certain things, and the fact that he could become dangerous when necessary. Citi was thankful that she had gotten a second chance to be with him.

  Finally, things were looking up. Cane was home and healing, she’d found true love with L, and Chris had a solid cocaine connection that brought in tons of cash.

  ****

  Citi woke up to the phone ringing early in the morning. She had fallen asleep on the couch watching videos on MTV. Cane was asleep in the main bedroom. The home health aide was scheduled to show up in a half hour.