A Kingpin's Obsession: Ajoni's Story Read Free

leather seat, and reach for the hand grip of the door, slamming it shut. I then notice the hole in the door panel that should have the electric controls for the door and window; there are not any. He cranks the car. The tiny knob that manually locks the door slides down into its hole in the top of the door and vanishes.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER Two
     
    Ajoni
     
    “Remind me to never take you on a run,” Leek says, while shaking his head. “You draw too much attention and have no patience, little girl.”
    “I know you just didn’t accuse me of not having patience. Pot meet kettle,” I snap back then reach back for the seatbelt with my heart in my throat. When I bow my head to find the buckle, the car does a U-turn in the middle of the street, going in the opposite direction of King’s closest drop house. I assumed my jump in would take place there like every other eastside Blue Kings’ did, including my father’s. I look over at Leek and toss my thumb over my shoulder.
    “King is in the other direction, Leek,” I inform dryly, hoping he is not taking me on a run right now of all times.
    “No he’s not. We’re going to where King wants to do your jump in so he won’t be disturbed. Don’t worry. I’ll bring you back as soon as he’s done. If you want to turn up for your new position in the crew and your birthday afterwards, we’ll cop something on the way back.” His eyes cut to me, wondering why only King will be doing my initiation. That is not the way the Blue Kings’ jump-ins usually work, and this one is suspect as hell.
    “What do you like to drink on, Ajoni?”
    I hear him talking, but I cannot give the question serious consideration. I am more concerned about where we are going.
    “Ajoni, answer me. What do you like to drink?” he asks again.
    “N — n othing but soda,” I stutter then swallow deeply, determined to put my big girl panties on and handle whatever is about to come my way.
    “I’m not old enough to drink yet,” I add then realize that statement contradicts the grown woman front I was trying to put up; but I am feeling like the scared seventeen-year-old that I truly am, and looking around me nervously.
    We are driving toward the rural part of Mecca where mostly rich people live miles apart from each other. Between those houses are thick woods where local kingpins are known to have warehouses for various reasons; killing, torturing, cutting up dope, and concealing grow ops for hydro marijuana. My father told me a lot of things about what dealers do, and that most of them cannot be trusted to do what is right. Immediately, I think, this ain’t right either , and then glance back at my house getting farther and farther away in the distance.
    “Where exactly are we going?” I ask as nonchalantly as I can, then ball my hands in the pockets of my jacket to hide the shake developing in them.
    When he does not answer, I become damn sure that someone else is up to something besides me.
    “Leek, this does not feel right. I know King uses the drop house on my street to jump in his runners for the eastside. They come out busted up and bloody, sometimes toothless, but always on the block they’ll be working. What makes me so special that I need to be taken out of the city?”
    He turns his head, to smile with one side of his lips before looking at the road again. I do not like how the look on his face makes me feel, but if I have to deal with it for a minute to get my mother away from Mecca after I graduate high school in a year, so be it.
    I sit back in my seat, feeling uneasy as hell. The feeling gets worse when we shoot through two yellow lights a block apart and barely stop at the stop sign, where he takes a left onto the straightaway that leads into the back of the beyond. At least, that is what city people call it.
    Leek’s hands begin to clench and release the steering wheel like he has bad nerves too, but he should not. I begin to fear the unknown and wonder if I