Page 82 of Creole Kingpin
Moses’s entire body seems to soften where he stands. “I hate that for you.”
My shoulders rise and fall. “I struggled with the guilt of it—thinking I’d killed her—for a long time. But ... I know now it wasn’t my fault. How could it have been? I was a baby. I didn’t ask to be born.”
“Yeah ... that’s the truth. You sure as hell aren’t to blame.” He goes back to chopping, his gaze focused on the remaining chunk of onion. “My ma wasn’t good people. She got pregnant to trap my dad, or so Grand-mère said. My dad died when she was carrying me. Never lived to see me born either.”
My heart cracks for the pain in his voice. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.
He gathers the vegetables with his massive hands and tosses them into a pot. “Yeah, well, it turned out for the best, because after I was born, she dropped me on Grand-mère and split. No point in keeping me around since my dad was gone, and that’s what she wanted.”
“Some people shouldn’t be allowed to have kids, but I’m glad she had you and that you ended up with your grand-mère, because she was who you needed.”
A smile replaces the sorrow gracing his features for a moment. “Likewise, mama. Likewise. And Grand-mère, well, at least she was happy. Most grandparents wouldn’t be thrilled about raising another baby, but Grand-mère saw my dad in me, and she loved him like crazy.”
“You were lucky then.”
His chin dips. “Damn lucky, at least until I was fifteen. She got sick. Cancer. It was nasty. I dropped out of school when she had to quit working, because there wasn’t enough money to pay the bills and get her well. And I wasn’t about to let her fade away and not do a damn thing about it.”
I can hear the sadness in his voice, but also a sense of pride. He did the right thing.
“She was lucky to have you too.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I learned right quick the jobs I could get with no diploma weren’t gonna pay me enough to make a dent in the money we needed.”
I know all too well where the story is headed, but I say nothing, just waiting to hear Moses tell it.
“I got involved with other things that could make the money we needed, and goddamn, did I piss her off. She told me sacrificing my future wasn’t worth it, but there was nothing I wouldn’t have done to save her.”
I fold a leg underneath myself. Regardless of how deep this conversation is, it’s also easy in a surprising way. “I’m willing to guess she understood the choices you made, even if she wished you would’ve made other ones.”
“Maybe. But realizing I had a talent for stealing other people’s shit and selling it for a solid profit wasn’t exactly the work of God she always hoped I’d do.”
He gathers other ingredients from the pantry and refrigerator, and I could literally watch him move around a kitchen forever. The food already smells divine, and watching him cook is one of the sexiest, most satisfying sights I’ve ever seen.
“You were a kid, trapped in circumstances beyond your control. What you did was out of necessity.”
“I know. But that’s where necessity ended. Because when she died ... I went crazy. Hated the world. Hated myself. Hated God. How could he take such a good woman and end her life so soon?”
He stirs the vegetables, turns the burner down a bit before adding stock and more spices, and then continues.
“I didn’t give a fuck about my soul after that. I got deep into shit, decided I was gonna be a kingpin, and climbed my way to the top of the toughest crew in Biloxi. I had no fucking limits. There was nothing I wouldn’t do. Rage dictated my every move. I wanted everyone to hurt the way I did. I didn’t care about anyone or anything.”
Moses’s throat works as he swallows, and I stay silent.He needs to get this out.He finally looks up and makes eye contact again. This time, his green eyes are glowing.
“I did some fucked-up shit, Mags. Real fucked up. And then ... I met you. And that’s when shit changed.” He snaps his fingers. “In the blink of an eye, I knew I couldn’t keep doing what I was. If I would’ve kept running that crew, I’d have been dead by thirty—if I even made it that long. So I couldn’t go back to Biloxi after Katrina. It would’ve been the end of me. Everything shifted for me after you.”
This time, I swallow a lump in my throat, because I had no idea meeting me was a turning point in his life. I thought it had been just me who’d changed. “You wanted to live? That’s why you didn’t want to go back?”
He shakes his head slowly and takes a swig of beer from his neglected bottle of Abita. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go back, it was that I couldn’t. Sometimes you justknow,to the marrow of your bones, when something is gonna kill you sooner rather than later.”
“I get that.” I bite at the corner of my mouth, debating whether I should say what I’m thinking.
Moses notices. “What?”
What’s the worst that could happen?I think, then open up to him.
“I get it, is all. If I hadn’t inherited that house, I was sure I’d end up back out on the streets. Eventually, I would’ve been just another dead hooker someone found in an alley. That house saved me.”
Moses locks eyes with me. “That’s why I didn’t beg you to leave with me. I couldn’t expect you to take a chance on me and give up everything you knew. Not then. Not when I had no idea where my path was going to take me. Not when there was a good chance you or me or both of us could end up dead.”
