King Maker: The Knights of Breton Court, Volume 1 Read Online Free PDF

"These are not the droids you are looking for."
      "Are you making fun of me?" Before Merle could respond, the young man punched him in the gut with such force that Merle crumpled to the ground. With blood in the water, the Timberland boot slammed into his side three or four times for good measure before the man bent over to grab him by the lapels. "Yeah, I'm gonna give you a name to remember."
      "My man." Dollar backed up a step or two, looking over his shoulder for Green, instead spying another approaching figure. "Ease up."
      "We got a problem?" Tall and straight, visibly muscled, but not with the dieseled artifice of prison weight, the man had the complexion of burnt cocoa. His eyes burned with a stern glint, both decisive and sure. Hard, but not in a street tough way, his walk was street savvy, with a hint of the swagger of someone who knew how handsome he was. Carrying himself properly was a survival tool. Level chin, squared up, not moving too fast which betrayed fear. The streets hadn't changed much in the years Merle had wandered them. If your body language portrayed you as scared, you became nothing but prey. Despite the oversized black T-shirt with a Jackie Robinson portrait, the young man wasn't much older than the other man-boys. He cold-eyed both Dollar and Mr Size 12, though not so hard as to give Mr Size 12 a challenge he'd have no choice but to respond to.
      "Nah, we ain't got a problem. Simply a misunderstanding," Dollar said.
      "He in the wrong place at the wrong time," Mr Size 12 said. "He needed… directions."
      "He's just an old man." The man turned to Mr Size 12 with a weary disappointment. For a moment, the two seemed to square off, an untold story between them, but Mr Size 12 without displaying a measure of backing down, withdrew nonetheless. It was as if his spirit, if not his bearing, deserted him. "Come on, man, he isn't even worth the hassle. Things that slow out here?"
      "Come on. Fun's fun, but we still on the clock," Dollar said.
      The Timberland-booted man cocked his hand like a gun, fired off a shot at Merle, then trailed Dollar.
      "You all right? You know them?" The man's gaze followed them, disappointment rife in his eyes as he helped Merle to his feet.
      "All jackals and hyenas… without a lion in sight." Merle brushed the leaves and loose dirt from him, though his many-stained jacket reeked of grime.
      "Uh huh."
      "Who is my would-be savior?"
      "My name's King. King James White."
      "Merle."
      "Merle what?" King asked.
      "At your service, oh King." Merle bowed before King's steady gaze.
      "Great."
     
    "Damn, son. You broke him off a piece for real." Dollar laughed as they made their way back to the spot. Brief distraction aside, they were still on the grind, though he always had his eye out for new talent. "You ready to step up to this here game?"
      "I'm here to put in work. I'm tired of playing out here." Prez knew what he was going to hear from Big Momma. Not even in her house and already he'd found the streets. But he'd been watching Dollar from way back, a few years at least. Steady slinging, always in fine clothes and just enough bling to set it off. It was either the game or continue to attend Northwest High School. Though the ladies were fine up in there, ladies could be had just as easily out here. No point in wasting everyone's time killing time and taking up space in school when he needed to be out here doing dirt.
      "Anxious to make a name for yourself."
      "Something like that."
      "I feel you. Look here, you hang with us for a minute. Think of yourself as an apprentice or some shit. See how we do. We got our eyes on you and we'll see how you handle yourself."
      "Yeah?"
      They bumped fists. A new day, same as it ever was.
     
    Ultimately stemming from the nearby Eagle Creek reservoir, creeks bordered the Breton Court condos along the south and east. Not too long ago, several kids had followed the tributaries