The Reluctant King: Book 1: The Book of Shadow

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The Reluctant King: Book 1: The Book of Shadow Page 3

by K'wan


  Shadow rubbed his scalp where his brother had hit him. “It wasn’t that big of a deal, so I don’t know why you’re tripping, Ghost.” The only people who still called him C.J. or Chancellor Jr. were their mother and his fiancée—at least when she wanted to get on his nerves.

  Ghost slammed one of his thick palms on the table hard enough to rattle the silverware. “I’m tripping because we’ve invested too much money on your education for you to fuck it up and end up like one of the dead-end knuckleheads you hang out with!”

  “Junior!” Maureen said.

  The sound of his mother’s voice always had a calming effect on Ghost. “Shadow,” he said in a softer tone, “I know when I ride you about school you think I’m being a dick, but all I’m trying to do is make sure you are afforded every opportunity to be great. An educated man is a man with options.”

  “I’ve got plenty of options, Ghost. Not only is Daddy one of the most successful Realtors in the tristate, but he’s also got money coming in from two dozen dope houses around the city—and those are just the ones I know about. Don’t even get me started on the gambling and girls! By hook or by crook, I’ve got options.”

  Ghost’s eyes flashed with anger. “First of all, watch your damn mouth. You know we don’t talk that talk in the house. And second, it’s obvious from your dumbass statement that you don’t know the difference between controlling and owning.” He shook his head. “And you wonder why I’m always up your ass about school? This little monarchy we’ve established within Five Points only exists because the arrangement is lucrative for all parties involved. It’s the collective controlling factions in the Points who back our father that make him a respected player all over the city, not just in the Points. This is a grand old house that Chancellor King has built, but never forget that houses get torn down every day.”

  “Not this house. We’re built Ford tough,” Shadow said.

  “I’m sure they said the same thing about the World Trade Center right before 9/11,” Ghost shot back. “You’re young and can’t see far enough past your need to have a good time to understand that the world isn’t all about jewelry, cars, and women. That’s short-term shit. You have to think about things in terms of where you see yourself ten to fifteen years from now. Why do you think Dad says he’ll cut off any one of us who doesn’t graduate college? In the event that this all goes sour one day, each of us has to be able to stand on his own to carry this legacy or create new ones.”

  “I hear you, Ghost,” Shadow said half-heartedly.

  Ghost grabbed his brother by the back of his neck and gave a little squeeze. “Don’t just hear me, little brother—listen to me.”

  “Okay, that’s enough business talk at the table,” Maureen cut in, setting one of the serving dishes down on a place mat.

  “Sorry, Mama,” Ghost said. “I’m just trying to give lil’ bro some game.” Ghost rubbed the top of Shadow’s head affectionately. “We good?” He extended his fist.

  Shadow stared at it for a moment, faking hurt, before smiling and pounding Ghost’s fist. “Fo’ sho’.”

  Ghost could be a pain in the ass, but he was still one of Shadow’s heroes. Growing up, their father spent most of his time working to ensure that the family had everything they needed, so Ghost shouldered a lot of the man-of-the-house responsibilities. Besides Colt, Ghost was the closest thing Shadow had to a mentor. And though you couldn’t tell from the suit he wore that morning, Ghost was a gangster—a pure street nigga. He had inherited Uncle Colt’s violent temper and disregard for human life, which was how he earned the nickname Ghost. Men who ran afoul of him left the world of the living.

  Unlike Shadow, who their parents kept away from that side of the business, Ghost was pulled in headfirst. It wasn’t that their parents wanted Ghost to get into the life; there just wasn’t much they could’ve done to stop it. Ghost had come into the world street-poisoned. Murder and mayhem were in his heart, and once it became clear to Chance that he couldn’t do anything to suppress his oldest son’s natural instincts, he started doing what he could to sharpen them. Reluctantly, he schooled his namesake on the ins and outs of the family’s other business. Ghost took to crime like a fish to water. In the early days, Chance kept his eager son on a short leash, but once he was deemed ready, the shackle was removed and Ghost proved his bite far worse than his bark. While Chance closed deals in boardrooms, his firstborn closed caskets in the hood. Ghost emerged as a modern-day Al Capone, but then something happened that shifted his interests—he became a father.

  Having his daughter, Tiara, put things in perspective for Ghost. His new focus became being a good dad and providing the best life for his little girl. Ghost came in off the streets and tried his hand at earning a legitimate income. He drew a nice monthly check from his position on the board of Second Chance Developers, but he also ran a towing and salvage company. Driving trucks wasn’t the most glamorous job, but it ensured he’d return home safe to his lady and his daughter every night. Officially, Ghost was retired from the family’s dirty business, but stories had been floating around that contradicted this myth.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Ghost said, shooting up out of his chair and planting a kiss on his mother’s cheek.

  “I was wondering if I was going to have to remind you,” Maureen said with a smile.

  Ghost reached into his back pocket and removed an envelope, which he handed to her. “You know I’d never forget my favorite gal’s special day.”

  Maureen held the envelope in both hands. “Feels a little light to be cash.”

  “You got plenty of that, Mama. And I don’t shop for what people want—I shop for what they need.”

  Maureen opened the envelope and withdrew a laminated postcard with an itinerary printed on it. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it.

  “That there is the golden ticket for you and three of your friends to go out and play like you’re young again,” Ghost said proudly. “It starts with brunch at that place you like in Philly, followed by a full treatment at the spa, and, finally, two hours at the gun range. Just don’t tell Daddy about that last part.”

  “Aw, thank you so much, C.J.,” Maureen said, fighting back tears.

  “It’s hard to shop for the woman who has everything, so I’m glad I was able to make you smile,” he said. “So, what’d Shadow get you?”

  Shadow could’ve kicked his brother for the shade he’d just thrown, but he kept his game face. “I gotta go and pick it up. I’m gonna give it to her at the party tonight.” In truth, Shadow had been so caught up with his own bullshit that he hadn’t remembered it was his mother’s birthday until he woke up that morning. He would have to grab something for her when he went into the city to look for Millie.

  “Don’t worry, baby. I’m sure your gift will be just as thoughtful as your brother’s.” Maureen knew Shadow was lying.

  “So, where are you off to this morning dressed all fancy?” Shadow asked Ghost, glad to change the subject. Usually, at this hour, Ghost would be dressed in coveralls and work boots, getting ready to head to the salvage yard.

  “I got a meeting this morning. Some guy is giving Christian grief about this building we’re supposed to be leasing to open a nightclub. I’m going to go have a chat with him.”

  “Big bro, you about to own a club? Good, now I don’t have to worry about ID when I wanna go out for drinks!”

  “Slow your drunk-ass down. It isn’t my club. I’m a silent investor. This will be Christian’s baby to run as he sees fit. I’m just helping out.”

  Maureen snorted. “That one.”

  “Knock it off, Mama,” Ghost said. “Christian and his little crew have brought a lot of money into this family over the years. He’s been a loyal soldier and I think it’s long overdue that I help broaden his horizons.”

  “So long as they don’t get too broad. I see plenty of ambition behind those painted eyes of his.”

  “Yes, Christian is ambitious as hell. If he wasn’t, I wouldn’t have taken
him under my wing. Never trust a man who’s content to eat out of your hand forever.”

  “Spoken like your father,” Maureen said, patting Ghost’s cheek. “You’ll make a fine king one day because you understand the importance of taking care of those who are loyal to you.” She cut her eyes to Shadow. “Not even five minutes ago I was stressing to Sean how it’s important for us to look after our own.”

  “It’s like you always taught us: we’re all we got,” Ghost said. He then took his usual seat, which was just to the right of the head of the table.

  “Where’s Dad?” Shadow asked. “I’m ready to eat.” As per tradition, they wouldn’t usually commence the meal until their father was seated.

  “He had to leave a little earlier than usual today,” Ghost said. “He’s meeting with some friends of ours this morning.”

  “Dad is holding court this afternoon?” Shadow said, perking up. “I should be there.”

  “No, you shouldn’t,” Ghost replied.

  A disappointed expression crossed Shadow’s face. “C’mon, man. You and Lolli get to sit in when Dad holds court, so why can’t I? I’m a King too!”

  “Yes, but you’re also still a kid, Shadow,” Ghost said. “Why don’t you enjoy your youth for a while before you rush off to try and shoulder grown folks’ responsibilities? Besides, you’re the one always hollering about how you don’t want any part of the family business, right?”

  “Sitting at the table isn’t the same as sitting on the front line,” Shadow countered.

  “Isn’t it?” Ghost said, raising an eyebrow. “Some of those old-timers at those tables are ten times as dangerous as any three fools running around with pistols. If a man approaches you with a gun, at least you can see that coming. Can’t say the same thing about a double cross. You never see those coming and it’s almost always the last person you expect. To sit at that table, you have to be able to see five steps ahead of your opponent, and even then, there’s no guarantee you’ll be able to do jack shit about what’s coming.”

  “Contrary to what you might think, Ghost, your brother ain’t no square,” Shadow said.

  “No, you ain’t no square, but you ain’t no beast either. And it’s beasts that sit in those rooms.”

  “Even Daddy?”

  “Especially Daddy,” Ghost muttered.

  “Maybe Sean is right, C.J.,” Maureen chimed in. “Being around you and your daddy at court may help build his character.”

  “There is nothing wrong with Shadow’s character, Mama,” Ghost said.

  “The hell there ain’t,” she said. “All that boy wants to do is play video games and chase tail. He needs to get a taste of how the real world operates. Maybe seeing his baby boy there will bring your father back to his senses and he’ll rethink the three generations of work he’s about to undo.”

  Shadow flashed his mother a dirty look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing,” Ghost said.

  Shadow wanted to press the issue but Uncle Chapman disrupted the conversation, busting into the kitchen. He wore a blue silk bathrobe with a matching blue silk scarf tied around his head to hold his processed hair in place. The outfit made him look like an old R&B crooner displaced from the sixties. Chapman was Chance’s older brother, and one of a set of twins. Whereas Chance was a kind and honest man, his brother and sister were cruel and sneaky. Because their last names were King, they carried themselves with a sense of entitlement for something neither of them had helped to build. This held especially true for Chapman. He felt slighted about Edward passing control of the family holdings to Chance instead of him, the eldest son, as had been the tradition of the King family for generations. No one in the house particularly cared for Chapman and his sister Clarisse, but they were tolerated because they were Kings.

  Without bothering to say good morning, Chapman sat down at the breakfast table and started heaping food onto an empty plate. This earned him a hard whack on the hand from Maureen’s spatula.

  “For as long as you’ve been living in my house you’d think you’d remember how things work, Chapman,” Maureen snapped.

  “My brother’s house,” Chapman replied. “Cut me some slack, Maureen. I’ve had a rough night and I’m not up for your mothering this morning. Besides, isn’t it your birthday? I’d think you’d be glowing.”

  “I should be, but unfortunately I’ve gotta make sure everyone else is doing what they need to be doing before I can focus on myself. After I finish feeding the troops I’ve got to catch my hair appointment and then meet the party planner to go over a few last-minute things.”

  “Mama, if it’s your party, why is it up to you to do everything?” Shadow asked. He knew his mother couldn’t help trying to be all things to all of them, but he didn’t like the stress it put on her.

  “That’s the price of being the backbone of this family,” Chapman told his nephew.

  “That reminds me—did you remember to pick up your tuxedo from the tailor’s yesterday, Sean?” Maureen asked.

  “I forgot,” Shadow said.

  “Jesus, boy! Do I have to pin a note to your chest to get you to remember the smallest things?”

  “Relax, Ma. I’ll pick it up this afternoon. I don’t see why I can’t just wear one of the suits hanging in my closet.”

  “Because she wants you to look good when you meet your intended,” Chapman interjected.

  “She’s not my intended anything,” Shadow said. “Just some stupid girl Daddy insists on me being nice to because he wants to do business with her uncle. It’s not a big deal.”

  Chapman choked out a laugh. “My poor, naïve nephew. One of these days I’ll have to sit you down and share a bit of family history with you.”

  “What are you talking about?” Shadow asked.

  “Nothing, bro. Chapman is just flapping his dick suckers again,” Ghost snarled.

  Chapman swerved his eyes to his oldest nephew and bestowed a menacing glare, daring Ghost to sling another insult so he could at last reveal the secret, which was the source of Ghost’s greatest shame. It was the one time he had broken his word with his family and it almost prompted a bloody feud. Chapman started to spill the beans just to be spiteful, but thought better of provoking Ghost and shut his mouth. The last time he’d gotten into it with his nephew, Ghost whipped him so bad that Chapman had to wear sunglasses for almost two weeks.

  “So, where is my brother this morning?” Chapman said, changing the subject.

  “Court,” Shadow said.

  This took Chapman by surprise. Ghost was Chance’s right hand, but Chapman was his left. When dealing with important Five Points business, at least one of them was usually there to assist the king. Chapman frowned and glared at Ghost. “Why wasn’t I made aware that we’re holding court this morning?”

  “Because it isn’t an official gathering,” Ghost said. “Just some stuff Daddy needs to take care of.”

  “That still doesn’t explain why I wasn’t notified,” Chapman pressed.

  “Maybe because you’re the king’s older brother and not the king,” Maureen said with an edge.

  “A mere oversight and an easy fix,” Chapman said.

  “Need I remind you of the punishment for treason in this monarchy, Uncle?” Ghost said, his voice flat and cold.

  “Jesus, Ghost. Always so serious. Why don’t you lighten up? You know I love my brother more than anything.”

  “I also know that if my father had no sons, you’d be next in line for his chair. So you can understand why you saying something like that could raise my eyebrows, don’t you, Uncle?”

  “The consummate guard dog,” Chapman said, grinning. “You know, you remind me a lot of Colt. He too was overprotective of your father. In the end, the reward never justified the risk.”

  Maureen noticed Ghost’s fist tighten around his fork. “Chapman,” she said, “why don’t you close that slick mouth of yours? Not everyone shares your twisted sense of humor.”

  “You’re right, Maur
een,” Chapman said, nodding. “Sometimes I do play too much. You know I was joking, don’t you, Ghost?”

  Ghost didn’t answer; instead, he busied himself trying to straighten the fork he had just bent.

  “Since Chance has called this impromptu meeting, does that mean he’s really going through with this foolish plan?” Chapman said.

  “What plan?” Shadow asked.

  Before Maureen or Ghost could respond, Chapman said, “You haven’t heard? Your father is planning to relinquish his crown so he can make a run for president.”

  “Of the United States?”

  Chapman rolled his eyes. “No, my dimwitted nephew. Of the borough.”

  Shadow looked to Ghost. “I don’t understand.”

  “Dad is restructuring the organization to put a bit of dis tance between him and our illegal activities, so he’s ready for his next big move.”

  “But he’s maintained his position on the city council and as king of Five Points for years without the two overlapping,” Shadow said. “Why do things have to change now?”

  Ghost sighed, then caved. “Because the bigger the office, the bigger the spotlight. City council is little more than a fancy title—there isn’t a whole lot of responsibility that comes with that and it allows Dad to serve two masters, so to speak. If Dad gets elected as Brooklyn’s borough president, that will place him just a few chairs shy of mayor and thrust him into the spotlight, which means that we will be on the radar of just about every government agency you can imagine, including the FBI and DEA. He’ll have to be squeaky clean. If your Uncle Chapman spent as much time involved in the family business as he does spending the family’s money, he’d know this.”

  “So what does that mean for us? For Five Points?” Shadow asked.

  “We go back to being everyday citizens,” Chapman said smugly.

  “Pay this idiot no mind, Shadow,” Ghost said. “Things are definitely going to change in the near future, but for as long as there is a surviving member of the King family, one of us will always sit on the throne of Five Points.”

 

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