KING(83)

Right when we reached the door, two of Isaac’s men stepped into the room and closed it, blocking our exit, raising their guns.

When we turned around, three more of Isaac’s men emerged from the room right behind the desk. Their pistols drawn and aimed.

“That’s it? You f*ck me over and expect that I would just party with you and forget all about it?” Isaac asked. He stood and walked in front of the desk. “You can’t just shit all over a business I’d spent decades running. I’m not your whore. You can’t choose to get in bed with me when it best suits you then leave me hanging after you have thoroughly f*cked me.”

“I was locked up,” I argued, knowing that wouldn’t be a good enough reason for Isaac. “You wouldn’t deal with Prep. We needed to earn. We didn’t cut you out. We made a business decision. A temporary one. I’ve been trying to reach you since my release, but you’ve had your balls in a knot. I’m not your girlfriend, Isaac. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Now, let’s move the f*ck on, and if you want to talk, we’ll talk. But let them get back to the party.” I waved my hands at my friends and Doe. “That way, they, at least, can enjoy themselves tonight.”

“You think it’s that f*cking easy do you? This county may belong to you, but this is my coast. Anytime one of you little trailer trash bastards wants to so much as take a shit, you need my f*cking permission!” Isaac spat, pounding a fist onto the desk. His face reddened. He turned his head to the side and passed the heel of his hand against his face, cracking his jaw from side to side.

Bear went for his pistol but he wasn’t fast enough. One of the men who blocked the door pressed his gun to the back of Bear’s neck.

“Don’t even f*cking think about it,” he warned.

Preppy spoke up, “What the f*ck do you want, Isaac? You want us to make it up to you? You want money? Fine, we’ll up your cut. Make you richer than you already are. I honestly didn’t think you’d care. We’re small-time compared to your other operations. King was locked up. The idea was all mine. This entire thing is on me.” His voice grew louder as he got bolder. “You want someone to blame? Blame me.” He wasn’t cursing, and his tone was serious. That worried me more than the guns to our heads.

Preppy was being reckless.

And he was doing it for us. So he could take all the blame and all the punishment.

I couldn’t allow him to take all the blame, and I couldn’t’ allow this motherf*cker to shit all over us like he ran the world. I wasn’t a f*cking drug lord, but I wasn’t someone you could point a gun at and not pay for it with your life. I held Doe’s hand and gave it a squeeze, trying my best to reassure her that I would protect her.

I very well intended to.

“But once I knew about it, I didn’t stop it,” I chimed in. “The Money was good, man. But we’re ready to go big time. Need your help to take us there.” I tried appealing to Isaac’s sense of business. But there was a reason Isaac was successful. He cut down everyone who’d ever stood in his way like an angry lumberjack.

Even his family.

Isaac bent over and cackled like a possessed witch. The girls on the sofa scooted to the far edge in an effort to escape. “Stay right the f*ck there, ladies!” Isaac warned. His laughter vanished instantly. Deep lines etched themselves into his forehead. His lips pursed. “This won’t take very long.”

“This ain’t on them,” Bear said, nodding to the girls and then to Doe. “Let all three of the bitches leave, and we’ll handle this in any way it needs to be handled. Don’t forget this is my house, my people. I don’t know what you think is gonna go down, but it ain’t going down without a fight. I got a few dozen of my brothers out there that don’t sit idle when they hear gun shots.”

Isaac strutted toward us. I instinctively shoved Doe behind me. Bad idea, because with that move, I showed Isaac she was more important to me than myself. It was instinct to protect her, but in that situation, instinct wasn’t doing me any favors.

He smiled as he approached.

“King of the Causeway,” Isaac said, quoting the air with his fingers around the label that had been given to me when I’d started to make a name for myself in Logan’s Beach. “You ain’t King of shit! The only King around here is me, and if you f*ck with what’s mine, the only way I see it is that I need to f*ck with what’s yours.” He turned toward Doe. “Or f*ck what’s yours.”