Carl Weber's Kingpins

by Raynesha Pittman

  “What are you questioning when I already told you that you were mine?” he said in between his laughs. “I don’t have any secrets. You can ask me about anything your pop’s people gave you, and you’ll only get the truth from me. Temper is caught up with people she didn’t do her homework on, and I found out she had a tie to those people living under her roof. I’m here for the same reason you invited me, beautiful. Is sexy, smart, warm-spirited Tyger my friend or foe?”

  “Friend. Until she finds out about us, I guess,” she giggled as she got back in bed, straddling his lap. He gripped her breast and pulled her in for a kiss. His meat rose, and he slid it back inside her. She rode him slowly and then froze.

  “My uncle—why did you mention him?”

  “We can talk about it later,” he moaned as he tried to pick up the pace.

  “No, we can talk while I ride this dick.” She came to a complete stop.

  “Okay, but why does it matter?”

  “Because everything matters. Now tell me.” She got off his lap and took him into her mouth. It took him a second to get his words together, but before he could say a word, Tyger’s head popped back up.

  “Did you hear that? It sounded like Temper’s bedroom door just closed.”

  “I didn’t hear shit. We’re talking about her. It has you paranoid. All you should be focusing on is us,” he said, pointing back at his meat.

  “Is that right?” she flirted.

  “That’s all I’m focusing on, especially since I know you aren’t working with your uncle.”

  * * *

  The door slammed against the wall loudly like a demolition crew bringing down an old building. Matthew tightened his neck to pretend he was unbothered by Temper barging in. He knew the exact cause of her intrusion.

  “Big Keith is Tyger’s uncle?” she came through the door, shouting. “Tyger and Kei’Lani are first fucking cousins.”

  “Does this mean you’re ready to talk?”

  “Hell yeah, I’m ready to talk.” Temper plopped down on the couch next to him, looking defeated. “Does Tyger know?”

  “No, she doesn’t. She’s had a restraining order against her father since she was eight. Before that, she didn’t have a relationship with her uncle because he and her father—”

  “Are from rival gangs,” she finished. “Infamous Capone is her father, and she’s the legendary person who shot him eight times in the face.”

  “Not all the bullets landed in his face, but yes, Tyger is the shooter.”

  “Her dad did a lot of bad shit globally. She shoots him in the face, and thanks to his team of million-dollar-an-hour surgeons, he lived. I thought they said a big drug lord sent shooters who caught him sleeping.”

  “At the time, he created that lie to save Tyger and his ego. I’m sure you read her reasoning for doing it.”

  “Yeah, typical Tyger. She wanted to rid the world of evil.” She shook her head. “That clears her from all of this shit with me. If she isn’t close to her uncle and her dad even hates him, then she wouldn’t team up with Kei’Lani or anyone else to get me.”

  “I’m in agreement with you on that one, but to not bring her in would alert whoever is trying to frame her that the jig is up.”

  “Am I missing something? Because it sounds like the case is solved to me. Her uncle, Big Keith—or like we called him in the hood, Beast—is calling all the shots. He hates his big brother and is setting his daughter up to take the fall.”

  Matthew raised an eyebrow and moved over to the armrest to get a good look at her before asking his next question. “You think it’s an open-and-shut case? Okay, what’s his motive?”

  “Khasema.”

  “Khasema? Your child’s father?”

  “I don’t have any children,” she snapped.

  “Okay, I’ll play pretend with you. The guy you told us you were selling drugs for—what’s their tie?”

  “The gang. Big Keith is Khasema’s OG. They’d do anything for each other. I fucked up Khasema’s life, so Keith is out to fuck up mine.”

  “You’re saying that Keith would send his only child to kill you in honor of Khasema? That just sounds a little farfetched.”

  “I’m sure it does. You’re a pig. No offense, but you’re overqualified to understand this street shit.”

  He chuckled. “Oh, am I? You might be right, but I came up with my own little theory as to why Keith would be orchestrating this. Stop me if I’m wrong.” He pulled out his legal pad and flipped through the pages. When he found what he was looking for, he slid the notes to Temper and showed her the bubble cluster with how everyone involved was linked.

  “Temper is best friends with Keith’s only daughter. Temper gets pregnant by Keith’s little homie and gets him his last strike. Temper is the reason his daughter has horrible seizures. He puts out a hit on Temper in juvenile hall, and Temper gets saved by Tyger, his only niece, who doesn’t know him from the brother who hates him. Keith gets word Temper is back in California living it up, and he sends Julio, Khasema’s best friend, to the club to set her up. Instead, Julio falls in love—”

  Temper cut him off. “Keith sent Julio after me?”

  “I’m not sure, but Julio has been meeting with Keith once a month since Khasema was sentenced. Not sure why, but he has.”

  “What? He told me he didn’t mess with any of the lowlifes we grew up with.”

  “I’m sure he did. He started his career on the drug task force and ranked up from there. You don’t want ties with those types of people where Julio is trying to go.”

  “This just keeps getting weirder. Do we have any alcohol?” Temper asked, but she was already checking the cabinets before he could answer.

  “There are bottles of red and white in the fridge.”

  “Thank heavens. Keep going. He sent Julio and he failed.”

  “Right. Then Kei’Lani wanted a go.”

  “You think she volunteered? I don’t know if that part is right. She said something along the lines of him sending her to kill me, and she hadn’t loved him for years. She could have been talking about her father, but I was under the impression she was talking about Khasema.”

  “I don’t know why she would say that either, unless it were to save her own ass. Khasema is her husband.”

  “What?” she bellowed, but he kept going.

  “They married three years after the incident. When Khasema’s mother moved to the Inland Empire, Kei’Lani moved in with her. From what I was able to uncover, it seems his mother nursed her back to health, and then Kei’Lani helped raise your . . . I mean, his son. Cancer took his mother’s life a few years later, and Kei’Lani filed for custody of her husband’s son and was denied because she was in and out of the hospital for long periods at a time. That’s when his honorary grandfather stepped in. That makes you the chick who dogged his grandson.”

  “If you only knew.”

  “I will when you tell me. What am I missing?” Matthew flipped through the pad and stopped at a blank page. “I have to know everything.”

  “You do, and I’m shocked at how much you seem to know. If Kei’Lani had killed me, I’m sure Khasema’s son would have been listed as next of kin, and since Keith is his guardian—”

  “You mean he was his guardian. Truth is eighteen years old. The money would go straight to him.”

  “His name is Truth?” Her voice cracked as she said it. The weight that rode her shoulders and rested in her chest at the thought of her son was back. He wasn’t just a baby she’d birthed and abandoned anymore. He was a man with a name, a portion of which she’d given him as she’d made her great escape.

  Symmetry Truth was now Truth Charles. Her son was alive. Joy and pain filled every gap of space between her joints, and her body went stiff. The joy of knowing there was still a chance she could make right of her wrongs and the pain of the truth that it was too late to mother him stole her mobility. Diagnosing her with arthritis due to her symptoms made sense but it was maternal love that disab
led her. It was a gene found in women that Temper assumed she lacked, although she’d fought to suppress it for eighteen years. She loved her son and regretted her decision to leave him. Still, she felt she’d done what was best for him. Knowing his name gave her an opening to tell Truth the truth once she knew they both were safe.

  “Yes. If you would like to see a picture of him, I can—”

  “No, I think it’s probably best I don’t.” Changing the subject, she said, “Keith has more than enough motive, and I want Julio and whoever else is involved thrown in jail until they turn into dust. I knew Big Keith was obsessed with me, but damn, I’d have never thought he’d go this far.”

  She tried to stand up, and Matthew pinned her back down. “Explain ‘obsessed.’”

  “I . . . I was pregnant by him twice, or so I believed, but I’m sure of at least one. I’m not proud of anything I did before meeting Isabel, and I don’t need you judging me because of my childish mistakes.”

  “I’m not Julio. I understand change, and don’t you forget that I witnessed it. You’re not that little girl I met at the Greyhound station.” He placed a comforting hand on her back. “You are a woman, not that foolish child. Finish when you’re ready.”

  The glass of red wine sat there sweltering as she grabbed the bottle and turned it up like forty ounces of malt liquor. She needed to put herself back in her old mindset to tell the story correctly. After balling her hair up in a bun at the top of her head, she continued.

  “It was their Hood Day, and I was given as a gift to all the OGs. Most of them only wanted head, but Keith wanted it all. He fucked me with a condom in front of his boys. But when I made it home that night, he was parked in front of my house.”

  Temper’s eyes focused on the bottle next to her, and seconds later, that bottle was blurry and replaced with a scene that happened long ago.

  “Come here, Temper.”

  “What’s up, Big Keith? You need a sack?”

  “Nah, baby girl, I’m good. I just wanted to come by and check on you after those Hood Day activities, make sure you’re straight.”

  “Aw, that shit. Yeah, I’m good.”

  “You sure? Get in. Let me talk to you for a second.”

  Without hesitation, Temper opened the door and sat on the passenger side. He handed her the blunt he had burning in the ashtray.

  “I know me and my niggas can get a little buck wild when it comes to celebrating Hood Day and all. I know you’re hella young and—”

  “It ain’t rape if I’m willing, big homie. Fuck my age,” she said, interrupting him. “Shit, I’m feeling good about today. We’re straight, and I already know what you got going on at home. I’d never speak a word of this shit to Kei-Kei. I put that on the turf.”

  “Okay,” he chuckled. “Want to ride with me then?”

  Taking a long pull off the blunt, she buckled her seat belt and said, “Hell yeah.”

  They rode from the east side of L.A. to Long Beach, smoking and talking about the hood the entire ride.

  “What you know about Long Beach, baby girl?”

  “Not shit. Every now and then, Kei-Kei and I will ride the train to the end of the line and smoke a blunt at the beach and then head back. Besides that, I ain’t never really fucked with it.”

  “Word, but do me a favor. When you’re with me, let’s not talk about Kei’Lani. That’s my baby, and I know y’all are the same age, but she isn’t as mature as you. You feel me?” he asked, cupping her face and then tongue kissing her. The car behind him blew its horn to let him know the light had changed. “Hold on, faggot, I’m macking on my new little girlfriend right now.”

  “No, you’re not. I don’t do boyfriends, but you definitely can be my boo,” she said, rubbing his dick through his extra-creased khakis.

  “Yeah, I want to be your boo as long as you can keep this shit between us.” She looked at him like he had lost his mind and then reached over to unbutton his pants. “Hell yeah, baby. I want you to suck it and my balls like you did earlier, but let me get you in this room.”

  He made love to her and then promised her the world. He swore to take care of her as long as she remained his boo. She got a taste of his nut, but he preferred to shoot it in her other mouth. When she found she was pregnant, he ensured the abortion had been taken care of only because he wasn’t sure if it was his baby.

  The room became clear again, and Matthew was calling her name.

  “Temper, you said, ‘pregnant by him twice.’ What happened the second time?”

  “By the second time, he used Khasema as a diversion to spend time with me. We were fucking almost every day, and there were times he was willing to share me with Khasema, and then he didn’t have time to creep with me anymore and gave me to Khasema. About a month after that, we found out I was pregnant, and Keith begged me to keep it. He said that me and the baby wouldn’t want for shit, but I couldn’t do that to Kei-Kei. She wanted to be an auntie, but I couldn’t let her become an aunt to her little brother or sister, and that shit right there wasn’t right. Plus, Khasema was trying to clean me up.” She giggled. “He wanted to make a woman out of me, but I wasn’t ready. Months after I had the second abortion, I fucked that up by sucking another one of our homeboy’s dicks for a hundred dollars.”

  “Is that what you meant by ‘obsessed’?”

  “No, that’s barely scraping the surface. Keith started popping up on me everywhere, even when I was with his daughter. He came and got in the bed with me one night at my grandmother’s while I was asleep. He woke me up by kissing me all over my face, confessing feelings, and asking me why I killed our baby. I had to threaten to tell his wife to get him to leave, and you’d think that was the last time he’d try anything, but it wasn’t. For, like, three months, he rolled by me, sniffing a pair of his boxers he put on after we fucked that smelled like my pussy.’

  “Okay, I get it. Obsessed.’” Matthew sighed and fell back into the couch. “Yeah, obsessed. But wait, Khasema didn’t know you were a minor. Isabel told me. Why wouldn’t Keith tell Khasema if they were that close?”

  “Are you serious? Even known pedophiles don’t go around bragging about fucking minors. You’re a cop. You should know that.”

  “Right, they don’t. Not until they get caught in the act, and depending on their mental state, not even then.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “What you just told me changes everything. Go shower and get your stuff. It’s time I take you back.”

  “Why? I thought we had at least another day here.”

  “Kei’Lani murdered Isabel. She used the same gun they found in her house after her death. I got word from ballistics right before you came in. The gun was a match, and I had my partner show Kevin a picture. He confirmed her as the girl who needed help. Other things have to be done with the case that I can’t do from here. Other than that, case closed.”

  “What about Keith? Are you going to arrest him for his hand in her murder?” she asked, choked up.

  “After what you just told me, probably not, but there’s a job I need you to do for me to help speed all of this up. Nothing about this is cut-and-dried with Capone involved, but we will get to the bottom of all of this soon. And, Temper, stop lying to yourself. Those older men in your neighborhood molested you. It doesn’t matter if you were willing. They were all at an age to know better.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The light illuminated Julio’s side of the bed, but it was a vibration that ultimately woke him up. It was Temper, three missed calls in the last two minutes, and if he didn’t answer soon, it would be four. He grabbed his boxers from the nightstand and swung his legs out of the bed to put them on. Tyger was knocked out. He could barely see her in the moonlight that crept through her blinds, but he knew by the way he beat her down, she would be sleeping well. Not wanting to disturb her while she recharged from the riding she’d taken before they went their separate ways to sleep, he opted to call Temper back from the living room.

  “Are y
ou okay?” he whispered into the phone. It was closing in on three days since she was taken to Vegas, and he’d been worried about her since she left, though his time with Tyger did well to keep him occupied.

  “Are you?” she snapped.

  “Um, yeah, I’m good. I was asleep, but—”

  “Asleep where?”

  “In bed,” was his safe response as he shot to the living room window to see if he could spot her outside. When he was sure she wasn’t out there, he asked, “What kind of question is that?”

  “Whose bed, liar?”

  In nothing more than the boxers he’d slid in and out of for the past three days, his V-neck T-shirt, and ankle-length socks, he stepped outside the apartment door, and a car’s headlights flashed off and on at him.

  “I can explain, Temper.”

  She hung up and jumped out of the passenger side with Matthew at her heels, but by the time she made it up the stairs, Matthew ran back to his car, leaving her to confront Julio alone.

  “Explain what, nigga? That it’s two in the fucking morning and you just walked out of my apartment in fucking boxers? Or that yo’ ass has been in my apartment since I left town, apparently fucking my best friend I had a physical fight with over you?”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Then what is it? A second ago, you said you were ready to explain.”

  “I . . . I came over to . . . to—”

  “A stuttering muthafucka is a lying muthafucka. Isn’t that what the streets say?”

  “I don’t know what the streets say, and I’m only stuttering because I thought I had more time before I would have to explain this to you.”

  “You thought wrong. Get to explaining.”

  He lowered his head to the floor, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “Tyger and I are a couple. We got together to try to figure out what we needed to do to protect you, and I know it’s going to sound crazy, but we fell in love in the process.”