Facing the Kings

Tell Me

Just a little treat for y'all

Here is another shout out to my Wattpad partner in crime tasneem_812 read her story Getting The Bad Boy Jealous. It'll take you on a emotional roller coaster, in the best way possible.

VOTE!

COMMENT!

***

   "I have places to be and fuckers to slap. Tell me, what do you know about Leon Martinez's death?" To persuade him, I bring my foot back and slam it into his gut.

   Groaning, his spits out a mouth full of blood, "I fucking told you! I don't know shit, it wasn't the Wasps. Wrong gang, bitch."

   This is the fourth time I've heard these words, not necessarily in that order but the same meaning. Each Wasp I cornered claims to not have heard anything, or their boss doesn't even know. Each had an excuse, and I'm practically a human lie detector- they said nothing but the cold truth. The Wasps are a pathetic gang anyway, should've known they were clueless.

   If Angel's superiors don't want him or anyone searching for Leons killer, then there's more going on. Angel is a big enforcer, probably the best Chicago has seen, I'd bet. And with guys like my brother, Theo, and Luke working under him, Angel had a dream team. For them to not wish Leon be avenged alarms me. If I was a powerful gang controller and a idiot shot one of my top men, I'd be enraged and throw whatever I had into finding who did it, and personally executing him.

   Or Leon's life just doesn't mean that much to whoever owns the Chicago Kings. After all, they still got their biggest player; Angel. Without a doubt, one day, the Kings will belong to Angel, with the way he already inflicts such fear. Men in other gangs twice his size and age with loads of experience tremble in his presence, they whisper his name as if he might show up and cap their ass.

   Angel was a King at fourteen and clawed his way to earn his current spot, that much I heard from Leon. Few more years, constant killing and he'll be at the tip top and Leon would've been right at his side. That was their ultimate plan; to rule the most notorious gang in America. The Kings aren't just bound to Chicago, oh hell no, they're nationwide, that's what makes them so fearful. Say the Cali Kings are in trouble, a single phone call later and the Detroit, Washington, New York, and Florida Kings are there, ready to defend their metaphorical brothers and sisters. The Kings don't play, they expand, gain numbers, have to best drug business and guns. There was a reason other gangs hate them.

   Chicago is their home base, where it all started. Since then they've become an empire. Leon and Angel's greatest mission in life was to be the kings of the Kings, their friendship sunk that deep. But they kept that to themselves, Leon only told me because he wanted someone to know his dreams. It's not like you can parade around the fact that you want to rule the gang you're in, that's how they turn.

   "Empty your pockets." I jam the gun at his temple.

   "Whore." He growls.

   "King." I correct, smirking.

   He stares at my wrist, at the CK crown falsely drawn. I remove my arm from his line of vision, he can't realize its makeup.

   He throws a bad of coke, couple of hundreds and a switchblade. I knock aside the knife and take the money, "Thanks. Tell your boss, don't tell. Doesn't matter to me."

   I sprint to a parking lot. When there I slide down and catch my breath. Tonight these Wasps have very little. I pull out the hundreds, fifties and twenties from my cleavage, the place it fits without falling. I count over five thousand dollars.