Watch the Throne (Urban) | Book 2

Chapter 2

King Grant

My nervous fingers lightly tapped against the rolled blunt between my fingers, as I anxiously sat in the parking lot, waiting, plotting on the perfect moment to go into the club to rescue H. I had it all planned out:

1. I'd walk into the club like everything's normal.

2. I'd go to the back, where H is, and fold her up in this big ass suitcase I found on sale at JCPenney.

3. I'd carefully roll her out of the club and drive off in my car with her

The plan could definitely work out, but my nerves were getting the best of me; something that hardly ever happens to me. I mean, after all the shit I've been through in my life, I don't get scared of shit and I definitely don't get nervous about anything. But this situation just wasn't sitting right with me for some reason.

I can't run the risk of getting caught by my Mama and I definitely don't need her on my case, or H's case, because of a stupid idea I came up with to try to get her out of this club. If she catches me sneaking H out, she'd probably whoop my ass and make H's life even more miserable than it already is, but this torture needs to stop. I've seen Mama torment and torture this grown woman all of my life and I'm sick of it.

It's disgusting, if you ask me. I don't know Mama can sleep at night after she's purposely beat H, starved her and shot her up with Heroine whenever she felt like fucking with her mental state. It's like she loves seeing H go through withdrawal when she isn't getting her fix, but I feel worse when I'm the one that has to give it to her because I'd rather see her drugged out than going through withdrawal in the middle of the night by herself.

It's like Mama just wants to keep her here for as long as she can. H has come close to death numerous times, but Mama always saves her from going overboard. It's like H is a slave to this hell hole that can't break free from it's grip.

That's why I want to help her. Not to make myself feel good about helping someone less fortunate, but because I know H has a heart and doesn't deserve to live like this. Hell, she doesn't deserve to die in this hell hole. I know she has family somewhere that loves her and are concerned about her well being, and based on what Mama's ranted to me about her, I think she has a kid somewhere too. I just know her child is suffering just as much as their mother is right now.

"You can do this," I whispered to myself. "Stop being a p*ssy King."

I took a deep breath and got out of my car, but I made sure to go to the trunk to pull out the suitcase. When I was at JCPenney, I made sure to buy random clothes to stuff in the suitcase to make it look like money since we sometimes had business meetings in the club. It wouldn't look strange for me to come in or out with a suitcase, but walking in with an empty suitcase and walking out with a full suitcase, would look suspicious. 

Regardless, I had to cover my tracks since Mama was always watching me. She's not at the club everyday, but when she does come, she sits in the back and watches all of the cameras for hours. She claims she does this so she can keep a close eye on the girls, or as she likes to call them, 'her money'. She doesn't want anybody fucking with her money, so she sits back and waits for something to happen for hours.

I walked into the club rolling a suitcase that looked to be full of money behind me. I passed by the bouncers and normal patrons of the club, none of them giving me a second glance as I rolled through with this suitcase. But I felt like all eyes were on me. I think my nerves were finally getting the best of me because my heart was pounding and I could feel beads of sweat traveling down my face. 

I used the back of my hand to wipe the sweat out of my eyes as I walked all the way to the back of the club. Before I left to get the suitcase, I locked H away in my office so no one would see her or our exchange. I needed this to be as clean as possible, so doing this in secrecy in a place where no cameras were at, was our best option.