Truth Be Told (Blackbridge Security 4)

I know all of this just as much as I know that being in his life from birth would mean that my child wouldn’t be outside shooting the shit with deviants when he should be in school. He wouldn’t be in my old neighborhood acting the exact same way I did even without my influence.

The older guys look me up and down, assessing me, no doubt trying to figure out why a man in designer clothes, having climbed out of a damn nice truck, is walking up to this gas station like he owns the place. I know approaching Alex while he’s in front of peers is risky. I know it’ll make him stand taller, act differently than he would if he were alone, and I’m prepared for that.

The other guys grin at me, one rubbing his hands together like he has set his eyes on a chump that’s about to be rolled, but he cowers a little when my steps don’t falter. I show no sign of fear or anxiety as I step up to them.

But before I can open my mouth to greet the small group, Alex speaks up. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

When the other guys nod and walk away, I realize things are much worse than I thought. From the actions of the others, it’s clear my twelve-year-old son has more power in this situation than I gave him credit for. He isn’t the follower. He isn’t the one being manipulated. There’s a good chance he’s some sort of ringleader, and that idea kills me because I know what it takes to be in that position of power in an area where every person is fighting and clawing to make a name for themselves.

This place breeds criminals, giving those without a voice, those without the chance of a better future something to work towards. I hate this for him. I hate everything about this situation, and it all boils down to the hateful words I said that night in my truck. Not only did I break both my and Tinley’s hearts, but I also set into motion the situation that has the power to ruin the life of our child.

I don’t speak to him as I prop myself against the wall beside him, even when uneasiness settles inside of me for once again putting myself in a position I never thought I’d be in.

I may not be able to get the kid to leave with me or go home, but at least with me being here, I know he’s a little safer than he would be on his own.

People go in and come out of the store, but no one stops to chat. I ignore the huffs coming from Alex when one guy looks like he wants to approach but spots me and keeps on walking. It makes me even more certain that my kid is a fucking drug dealer. The only positive is that he must not be doing it at school, or he hasn’t been caught yet. Drugs on campus is one thing Mike Branford would never tolerate. The man made that clear to me the first day of freshman year when rumors started to swirl around about how I was able to get anything and everything one could ever need for a good time.

My eyes narrow when a dark SUV pulls up, blocking the gas pumps even though it’s clear the driver has no intention of fueling up.

My hands turn into fists at my sides when I see Cedric Ramirez round the front of his vehicle, his eyes set on me before they sweep over to Alex.

“Hey, kid,” he says as he walks closer. “I heard there might be some trouble out here.”

“No trouble,” Alex assures him as Cedric’s eyes look back in my direction.

If this man was sent to check up on a man outside of the store with Alex, it clears up any doubt I was holding on to about just how deep into trouble my kid is.

I’m very familiar with the man before me. We ran in the same circles as teens. Before Tinley came along, we were in competition for Poppa’s attention. Gerald “Poppa” Jones owned the streets here in south Houston. He supplied all of us kids with the product we needed to make a little money. Rumor years ago, is that he was looking for someone to replace him when he retired. Both Cedric and I wanted to be a part of that. Being the top dog on the streets was where the money and security took place.

From the looks of it, Cedric slid into that position very easily after I left, but honestly, he’d been staged to take over shortly after Tinley came along and I took a step back.

“Cedric,” I greet when the man narrows his eyes as if he’s trying to place me.