by Amo Jones
“Are you calling me fat, Joker? Because my buddy Miss Desert Eagle—yes, she’s a woman, so she won’t appreciate your sexist comment—is still sitting in my handbag. Only this time, I won’t shoot you in your leg. I’ll shoot you in your dick.”
“Wow! No! That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying”—he takes the plate of diabetes away from me slowly, like you would take a toy away from a screaming toddler—“that maybe you shouldn’t be eating this.”
“Leave her the fuck alone, Joker. Baby, go get changed.”
I give him a smug smile and poke my tongue out at Joker. “My man loves me anyway, so fuck you.”
Walking down the maternity ward of Summerlin, we finally find Amy’s name on the door. I knock a couple times, and Amy calls, “Come in!” Pushing the door open, Raze follows in behind me, closing the door after Joker.
“Hey,” I whisper.
She smiles, leaning up off her bed. “Hi!”
I look down to the little crib beside her bed and smile. “Asleep?”
She nods. “Yeah.” Taking a drink of water, she tells us, “Babies sleep a lot. I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but I’m bored. Sore, but bored.”
I chuckle softly as Raze and Joker take a seat on the visitor’s chairs on the other side of the room. Amy looks to them and smiles at Raze before looking to Joker. “Thanks for helping Millie last night.”
Joker grins. “No problem.”
I walk toward the little crib and take a seat on the edge of her bed. “Oh wow,” I whisper, my throat clenching. Pull it in, Millie. “I’m sorry,” I laugh, swiping the tears off my cheeks. Raze stands from his chair and is beside me in a flash. “It’s just….”
“He looks like his dad already?” Amy answers for me.
“Yeah,” I chuckle. “Yeah, he does.” He has Miles’ thick dark hair and sharp nose. As far as newborn babies go, I’d say he is the cutest I’ve ever seen.
“It threw me off a little too,” she laughs.
Raze looks down to the crib, and something flickers in his eyes. It’s not something soft and pure. It’s… anger.
“Excuse me.” He walks out the room, and Joker looks to me with wide eyes before jackknifing up from the chair.
“I better go”—he hitches his thumb over his shoulder—“check on that.”
“Sorry,” I say, looking back to Amy. “I seriously don’t know what his problem is.”
She waves her hand. “It’s fine. He lost Miles, too. I get his pain. Truthfully, it hurts to look at my own baby, because he looks like his father so much, at such a young age too. It chills me to think how much he’s going to look like him as he gets older.”
I want to comfort her and tell her that Raze will come around, but truthfully, I don’t think he will. I was riding on him pulling himself together once he laid eyes on the baby, but no such luck.
Opting to change the subject, I ask, “So did you decide on a name?”
She leans back on her bed. “Miles Jr., but I think he’ll just be called Junior.”
“Or Little J.” I grin at her.
“Little J?” she asks, her head tilted in question. I do wonder at times how much she knew Miles. I, for one, know Miles wouldn’t have liked a name like Junior. He’d want something with a little bit of punch.
I shrug. “Just a thought.”
I stand back. “I better head off. My sister is coming over tonight, possibly to grill my ass about keeping my pregnancy from her.” I shake my head with a scoff. “But if you need anything at all, call me. When do you get out of here?”
“Thank you. We can go home tomorrow. They just want to keep an eye on me, because I lost a bit of blood when I got here.”
“Okay.” I lean down and kiss her on the head, and then plant a soft kiss on Little J. He smells like crisp innocence, and I almost choke when I have to pull away.
“All right, baby,” Raze says from the open door. “Let’s go. Bye, Amy.”
She waves at him, and I drag myself away from Little J. Walking out of the hospital with both men on either side of me, I look up to Raze. “I really wanted to keep him.”
“What?”
“Think of Miles, Raze. The hell is wrong with you?” I storm off in a huff toward the car. He watches me, his jaw clenching and his fists squeezed.
Once we get back to the house, I step out of the car, still in a huff, and walk toward the front door. I’m not ready to talk to him yet. I can’t believe how irrational he’s being about this baby. It’s inhuman. He and Miles were brothers, so why is he being such a shit about this child?
I walk into the kitchen, passing Viking and Angel as Raze and Joker follow in behind me, and open up the fridge. My phone vibrates in my pocket just as I twist the lid off my water bottle. “Hello?”
“Hey, sis, we’re on our way up!”
“Okay. Just a warning, there’s tension.”
“Uh oh.” She laughs. “Trouble in gangster’s paradise?”
“You could say that,” I mumble, running my hand over my bump. “See you soon.”
“YOU REALLY GONNA GO THE whole night without talking to me?” I grin at Millie.
She ignores me, looking to Joker before asking, “Why are we watching NBA?” I reach out to her hand, pulling her into my lap. “Stop.” She presses on my chest.
I lay kisses on her arm, trailing up to her neck. “Baby? Why are you so mad?”
“Because you’re a heartless shit, that’s why.”
I chuckle, the vibration pressing against her skin. Biting down on her earlobe, I grit, “But, babe, you already knew that.”
Just as she’s about to answer, the doorbell rings and then the door swings open. I don’t even have to second-guess who would be game enough to step into this house without waiting for an invitation. Fucking Melissa. I let Millie go, and she starts making her way toward the front door. I stand up from the couch, walking slowly behind her.
“Oh my God!” Melissa’s hand flies up to her mouth.
“Don’t!” Millie warns her, her hand going up to Melissa’s. “I swear to God, if you say anything about my weight, I will shoot you.”
“Hey!” Hella walks in behind Melissa, with Beast following closely behind. “You won’t be shooting anyone.”
I nudge my head at Beast. “Family reunion?”
Beast laughs as Millie takes her down to the sitting room, with Melissa’s hand protectively on her sister’s stomach. Just as they’re about to drop down to the sofa, Melissa turns to me. “You and I are going to talk later.”
I ignore her and look to Hella. “No offense”—I narrow my eyes at him—“but control your woman. I’m not one of your patch members, so I owe you nothing. She’ll need to watch her mouth.” I look to Beast. “You here for a reason?”
“Yeah,” he mutters, squaring his shoulders. “We need to talk about Shelby.”
I grin, guiding my hand toward the door that leads down to the meeting room.
Once we reach the bottom of the stairs, I pull out my seat and gesture to the rest of them for Beast and Hella to sit.
Beast taps his fingers on the seat. “You tell me what you know about Shelby,” he pauses, “and you have my word, and my vote. I know that doesn’t mean shit to you, but it means a fucking lot with my club that I will back you in any war.”
That’s all I really wanted. There’s not much else his club can offer me that I don’t already have, so manpower would have to do, and let’s face it, I can always use manpower.
I nod, satisfied with his offer. “Shelby,” I begin, sitting back into my seat, “is protected at the moment.”
“By who?” Beast growls.
“By The Syndicate.”
“The what?”
I narrow my eyes. “You don’t know about The Syndicate?”
“No. Who the fuck is The Syndicate?”
I begin explaining who they are and what their position is with The Army.
“So this Ikea chick, she has Shelby? Why?”
/> “Because Ikea was the woman who placed her in your club to begin with. See,” I say, leaning forward, “you will never be rid of this world, Beast. You were born into it, and you will probably die from it. You both will.” I look to Hella.
“So we stop them.” Hella shrugs, casually lighting up a cigarette.
I lean back into my chair. “We can’t.”
“What do you mean can’t?” Beast leans in closer.
“I mean there is no possible way that we or anyone could ever take down The Syndicate.” Lie. There’s always a way, but I want to see how bad they want it.
Beast exhales, relaxing into his seat. “Do you have a plan?”
Yes. “Not really.”
“What’s it going to take for you to trust us?” Hella questions, butting out his smoke.
I chuckle. “I trust no one.”
“You gotta give me something here, Raze.” Beast raises his eyebrows.
“We can’t take them down. Ikea runs it. The position of CEO was handed down to her from her father. She murdered him in cold blood for that position. We all know it. Just no one wants to question her. It’s why she’s so young. But,” I add, grinning, “I mean, she’s rode on my dick before, and I gotta say, that juice will be worth the squeeze. If you know what I mean.”
“So sleep with her and kill her?” Hella confirms, seemingly satisfied with this idea.
“Tsk tsk, use your head. If you kill her, there’s someone else ready to take her place. Someone who I wouldn’t be able to manipulate. I’m saying, line someone up to get in her bed indefinitely. Someone who is okay with worming his way in there. We will need an inside man with this.”
“And then what?” Beast scoffs.
“And then we take her fucking throne.”
The following two months went something like this: Beast, Hella, and Raze working on some top secret project having to do with The Syndicate, and for the first time since Raze and I got together, he won’t share any details about their plans. He said it’s too risky for me to know anything. Since I’m pregnant, I’ve laid off him—when it comes to the business side of our life, anyway. With power comes enemies, and even someone as powerful and untouchable as Raze still has enemies floating around the globe. That, I am sure of.
Raze and I have settled on a name for our baby too. We both agreed on Iris, and he has more than warmed up to becoming a father, which is a relief.
There’s a light knock on the door, and I place my butter knife down, wiping my hands and walking to the front door.
Swinging it open, I smile. “Hey!” I step aside to let Amy and Little J in. I’m the only person who calls him Little J. Everyone else calls him Junior. I don’t really know how Amy feels about my nickname, but I figured if she had a problem with me doing it, she would say something.
“Hey! Sorry I’m late.” She hands me the baby and I take him with a smile, despite my large belly in front of me. Amy looks down to my bump. “Or I can hold him?” I snatch him away playfully and close the door.
“Hell no. This is my nephew.” Amy laughs, following me into the kitchen. “Aren’t you, buddy. Hey, look what Aunty Minnie is making!” After finding out babies develop the N-sound before they can develop the L, I decided to change my name to Minnie just for him. I’m hell-bent on having him say my name as his first word. Just because I know it would piss his father right off if he knew.
“Aunty Minnie should be putting her feet up!” Amy says to me.
I wave her comment away. “Rest is for the weak.” I poke his little button nose. “And do you want to know a secret, my little man?” I lean near his ear. “Aunty Minnie is a queen. She is not weak.”
I hand him back to Amy and get back to pouring batter into the little cupcake papers. “So how are you holding up?”
“Good,” she replies, her knee softly jiggling under Little J. “Juggling a job and daycare is hard, but I’m really lucky I have the girls down at Little Tots.”
“Well, my offer still stands.”
“Millie”—she shakes her head softly—“there’s no way I’m letting you watch my kid.”
I drop the spoon and look at her. “Amy, this is me. My way of trying to help out and be a big part of his life.”
“I know, but you don’t need to offer that to be a big part of his life. We will be fine, won’t we?” She looks down at Little J, and it’s then I realize she’s right. They will be just fine.
Early the next morning, I head back downstairs in search of some snacks. This little girl is going to be the death of my fat feet.
After deciding on waffles, I set to making them. Raze is still not home, which probably didn’t help with my struggling to sleep last night. But considering the whole property is secured, equipped with Chucky and Bride—the two Dobermans Raze keeps on the property—and a handful of skilled guards, I can’t really blame my lack of sleep on that.
Leaving my half-eaten waffles on the bench, I walk upstairs and stop outside Miles’ room. I haven’t spoken to Raze about what he wants to do with this room, but I’m guessing he’s not ready to pack it up yet or it would be done. Pushing open the door, I step inside, finding it exactly how I left it the last time I was in here. You would think the more times I come in here it would get easier, but it doesn’t. His death has fucked with my head in more ways than the dungeon ever did. Taking a seat on his bed, I look over to our photograph that’s sitting back on his bedside table. Raze must have put it back, which means he’s been in here. Picking it up, I feel a piece of paper behind it. My eyebrows knit together, and I flip the photograph around. All the air inside me feels as though it gets punched out.
Shooting off the bed, I gasp, my hand flying up to my mouth. “Raze!” I scream out in frustration, even though he’s not here.
“What!” He comes running into the room. He must have just got home, and he looks tired. His eyes check over me before falling to what I’m holding in my hand. The Lucky Hundred.
His mouth slams shut. “Motherfucker.”
“RAZE.” I SPUN AROUND TO find Ikea watching me as she stepped over the fallen bodies.
“Leave me alone. I need to put my brother to rest,” I seethed, popping open the back of the van. I needed to get Miles out of here and buried, so I could take care of Millie. It’s what he would have wanted.
“One little problem with that plan, Raze,” she said, her guards stepping up beside her. Ikea presented herself how she always did: immaculate suit, and platinum hair pulled into a high ponytail. She had a sultry black widow vibe about her. She fucked like she held herself, like a fucking boss.
“And what’s that?” I snapped at her.
She looked down to Miles’ frozen body in the back of the van, and just as she opened her mouth, hysterical coughing and spurting erupted from the back of the vehicle.
Everything stopped.
My heart, my hearing—nothing mattered. I saw nothing but Miles’ body come up from his dead position. “Thought you got rid of me, fucker?” He grinned at me, ripping open his shirt until all the buttons fell to the ground and removing his vest that had blood patches stuck to it.
Stepping back, anger rose inside of me and I launched forward, my fist connecting with his jaw. “You motherfucker!”
He laughed, staying on his back. “‘Kay, I deserved that.”
“Raze!” Ikea snapped. “I need him.”
“What the fuck for? And why the fuck did you keep this from me? Hmm?” I stepped up to her, and her two big minions stepped forward. In one movement, both my hands flew up to each of their throats and I squeezed until I felt their esophagi crunch under my fingertips. My eyes remained on hers. “Speak, Ikea. You may run The Syndicate, but I’ll be fucking damned if I let you come around here and try to be boss bitch on my fucking soil.”
She smiled. “Love when you talk dirty, baby.” She walked toward me, her palm brushing against my cock and her lips to my ear. Her tongue darted out and flicked down my neck. “Call me when you’ve calmed down, and
then we can talk.”
Throwing both guards down on the ground, I grabbed onto her ponytail and yanked her head back, so her eyes had no choice but to look directly into mine. “Touch me again, you filthy bitch, and I’ll fucking chop you into tiny pieces and feed you to my dogs.”
She chuckled, tapping my hand. I let go roughly just as Miles jumped out of the van. “We,” I pointed to both her and Miles, “will talk about this.” I looked to Miles, my eyes remaining on his. Rolling a ball of saliva in my mouth, I spat it to the ground. “You fucked up. You and I both know she won’t make it through losing you, you piece of shit.”
Miles’ smile fell instantly. “I have no choice, Raze. You’ll understand soon enough.”
“I highly fucking doubt that. Fuck off before I put a bullet through your chest myself.”
He spun around, his face broken, and walked with Ikea to her awaiting limo. Whatever the fuck he has to say on why he had no choice will have to wait.
“Raze!” Joker yelled from the other side of the building. “There you are. What’re you doing back here?”
I watched as the lights to the limo died off in the distance. “Nothing.”
“RAZE?” I QUESTION, HOLDING UP the hundred-dollar bill he gave Miles. “I know you didn’t put this here, because you told me Miles still had it. What is this, and why is it here, and who moved the photo frame?”
He exhales, stepping toward me, and his hands fall to his side. “I really don’t want to have to do this to you, baby. Not now.”
“Do… what?”
“Miles, he’s—”
“He’s what?” I ask, dumfounded. Nothing could have prepared me for what came next. Nothing at all.
“He’s still alive.”
“What?” I screech, clutching my stomach as a stabbing pain slices across it. My breathing comes in faster, harder, my chest rising and falling. “How? Why? How could you do this to me, Raze? To us?”
“Baby, you need to calm down.” He steps toward me, his hands up in surrender. I can’t. Everything closes in on me, my vision turning dark. “It’s a long story, and we can explain it to you soon. But right now, I need you to calm down and breathe, baby. Breathe.” His eyes drop down to my belly. “Please breathe, baby.”