Chapter 24 Pat’s Warning (Mr. Wu ) (Mr. Rei)
Ms. Pat, the neighborhood’s beloved oracle, shuffled in with scarves dangling and mismatched shoes clicking against the linoleum floor. She murmured to herself, barely audible—until she stopped beside their booth.
“There’s a darkness coming,” she said in a voice that pierced straight through the air. “It’s hungry. It knows your names. If you want to stop it, you must bring together the flower that blooms in the mud and the name you chose to honor your roots.”
She smiled, then shuffled off, humming an old gospel song.
The men sat frozen.
They sat in stunned silence, the weight of Ms. Pat’s words lingering like incense in the air.
Although Ms. Pa seemed a little touched, she had built a reputation over the years as the neighborhood prophet. She called out plenty of people’s downfalls, usually the ones who ignored her and she saved more than a few lives from those who took her warnings seriously.
Now, with the way their family looked like they were heading, it didn’t come off like superstition. It sounded like a real warning, and this time, it had their full attention.Mr. Wu furrowed his brow.
“Did she say, ‘the flower that blooms in the mud’? And the name we chose… What did she mean by that?”
Mr. Rei tapped his fingers against the mug. “She may seem touched, but her warnings… they’re always precise. Always rooted in something real.”
They sat back, still pondering, when the shop door chimed again. Lotus and Joy entered, laughter trailing behind them like sunlight.
They walked past a group of elders at the front booth.
“Those girls are Charles Wintlen’s granddaughters,” one elder said, sipping her coffee. “He’d be proud of what they’re doing.”
Joy and Lotus strolled into the coffee shop, chatting and laughing as they greeted the elderly group at various tables.
Then they started to make their way to order their food.
While walking up to the cash register, an older black man wearing brown pants with a tan button-down shirt tucked into his pants with a brown leather belt, approached them. He wore loafers, a brown strap watch, and had low hair. He smelled like cigar and cologne. Cut right in front of them.
"Give me the usual and put it on their tab," he said, turning around with a scheming smile. "I believe my daughter would love flipping the bill for me since she owes me," Lotus's stepdad, Rufus, said. Lotus stiffened, her eyes blazing with something dark.
"I owe you nothing," she retorted.
"Oh, but you do. Since you want to change the system without my permission. This territory is already spoken for, and your changes messed up my money," he started to get dark and stood in her face.
A tense hush swept the room. Joy reached for Lotus's arm, her laughter fading as she locked eyes with her stepfather.
Mr. Rei and Mr. Wu suddenly appeared and stepped forward, placing themselves beside Lotus and Joy like silent sentries. Their presence wasn’t loud, but it was unmistakable—an unspoken message to Rufus: These girls are protected. The old man's gaze was sharp, too sharp cutting through the mirth like a cold wind.
Lotus barely noticed them. In that moment, she wasn’t in a coffeeshop or a community space. She was in a memory fighting the teenage version of herself who would’ve lunged at him, using her nails as claws, and teeth gritted.
That version of Lotus had to be pulled off him more than once. Bruises, welts, broken lamps. She’d fought with everything she had, and he always fought back harder.
“Get her away from him,” Joy thought, pulse spiking. She remembered what happened last time how all hell broke loose when these two were in the same room. No one could restrain her. No one dared. She had to be pulled off Rufus, clawing like a feral storm. And he used to fight her like a man fighting for his life. Her body bore the evidence: welts, bruises, scars that still burned.
Then without warning Mr. Wu and Mr. Rei stepped forward, flanking Lotus and Joy like twin sentinels. Silent. Watchful. Their presence wasn’t loud, it was lethal. It said she’s not alone this time.
Rufus blinked, caught off guard. His smirk faltered, just for a heartbeat. The old threat stood resurrected before him.
“Well, well…” he drawled, forcing the grin back onto his face. “What a surprise. What brings you all here? I don’t see Cameron’s cameras—so it ain’t for the media. And I know it sure as hell ain’t to visit the old friend who’s no longer breathing.”
His eyes flicked to Mr. Wu and Mr. Rei, trying to size them uptrying to remember who they used to be, and whether he could still play this game.
Mr. Wu’s voice was soft, but it hit like a hammer.
“We’ve always been around,” he said, stepping a fraction closer. “We just learned to move through extensions. But now—some matters require presence.”
Mr. Rei added without blinking,
“And we see you're still toiling. Tell us, Rufus… how’s the warehouse business? Still laundering fear and calling it leadership?”
Rufus’s smile twitched. For a moment, his mask cracked.
“It’s progressing,” he snapped. “You know me. ‘Nothing’ is too big for me to handle.” He straightened his jacket, eyes narrowing. “Anyway, I’ve got business.”
He moved something subtle, a twitch near the window. Then turned to leave.
But just as he reached the door, he paused, looking back over his shoulder. His voice dipped low.
“Tell your brother,” he said, “I’ll get them their money. And good work.”