Chapter 8 Family Matters #7
His accusation hit me squarely so I wasn’t going to deny it. I also wasn’t going to acknowledge it so I moved on. “So tell me what I’m missing out on.”
He watched me again probably to test if I truly cared about his explanation. I was glad he wasn’t one to waste his time either and I appreciated that he could tell I wasn’t on any bullshit.
“What you’re missing out on is that your mother was set up to fail from the very beginning.
Not just by your daddy but by our grandfather too.
You think he was going to let Faith step in on some shit that he put into motion and actually have control?
Never that. Big James was gully and little James wanted to be the same way.
He’s been trying to live in his older brother's and his father’s shadow, which is why he turned to the skin trade.
That was something that Big James liked to dabble in and Little James is too weak to find his own identity.
Always had been and apparently always will be.
Because even in death, he’s still getting his wish. ”
“And what was his wish?”
He took another sip of his drink before he gave me the answer I needed.
“Descension. You think he ain’t gone be bitter about the fact that his family couldn’t grow with the times when others did?
They tried to help him for years and he didn’t listen.
Just knew that he wouldn’t have to change how he moved and he failed at every turn. Which only made him more bitter.”
“Everybody’s known that though.”
He smirked as his brow rose thoughtfully. “Have they? Everybody doesn’t get the same story. Some people are lied to.”
“Facts. How do I know that ain’t what you’re doing right now?”
He laughed me off but my lack of trust irritated him. “Nigga, you don’t. But the one thing I didn’t take you for was being a fool. I know you. I know you’re going to check out everything I just said. Research it. The main reason your family was approached was because of your grandfather.”
“What does he have to do with anything?”
“Your grandfather ever trace his father’s lineage?”
Now I was getting frustrated and didn’t mind letting him know. My eyes narrowed and when I was met with a grin I felt like pulling out my damn gun. Talking to Hakeem was too much like talking with Yacouba’s joking ass. “How the fuck am I supposed to know that?”
His crystal rocks glass went to the top of the bar like he was fed up with my shit. We’d be tossing each other around this room if he kept this shit up.
“My nigga, your great-grandfather’s people are from New Orleans. The same fucking plantation where the Consortium was born all those years ago.”
His face was blank as though he didn’t feel any emotion about giving me this information.
“How the fuck was I supposed to know that?” That bomb he’d dropped was heavy.
One that had my mind going for real. I knew that Jemma Marie’s family kept all the records, which meant her father had to vet my grandfather and his family before they approved my parent’s marriage.
I wonder if that’s why they were okay with it going forward.
“Because the original Beaumont Benoit had excellent fucking records way back when. It didn’t just start.
They’re on display at the plantation to this day if you want to view them.
He traced everyone back as far as he could as soon as he took ownership of them.
He got as much of their histories as possible so that when it came time for freedom we knew who the fuck we were. ”
“For a moment when his descendants were going to have to vet part of a criminal organization? I can’t see someone as altruistic as him thinking this was how his kindness would evolve. Or devolve depending on how you look at it.”
He studied me again before he spoke up, “Are you always an asshole?”
I lost my scowl and my blank face was normally how I expressed joy. Inside I was laughing cause he sounded really put out by my bluntness. “Yeah. It’s kind of my homeostasis. It keeps me balanced in this world. You really don’t want to see me when I get excited. Bodies normally drop.”
“Jesus Christ. We’re never gonna get along are we?
” He ran a hand down his face like he was frustrated by his own realization.
I didn’t know why he thought us being friendly with one another was a goal he should want to attain but I guess everyone wasn’t a loner like I was.
Even with my brothers after a while I needed space.
It wasn’t their fault; I was just used to handling shit solo.
That’s how I was sure that sharing a life and space with Asha was going to fuck me up.
Then why did you move into her place?
When he looked back at me I shrugged before I admitted, “Probably not.”
He shook his head at my words and I knew I was frustrating him. “Why the fuck am I trying?”
He’d asked himself the question but since he spoke out loud I took the time to answer it for him.
“Couldn’t tell you. Probably because you give a fuck.”
“And why is that?” His face looked confused like he was moving in a way that wasn’t his norm. I would have to tuck his confusion away for later analysis because it had me wondering a few things.
Instead of saying something kind like I’m sure he expected to make it seem like we were cool, I spoke honestly. “Fuck if I know.”
Hakeem blinked twice as he absorbed my honesty before he continued.
“Ori, man…what I’m saying is out of anybody in this organization, don’t have qualms about being here.
Your granddaddy might not even know but he has family that traces back to that same place we all come from.
Which means that you have a place as a Consortium founding member no matter what side of the family you’re talking about.
So maybe not the Nakoa name, but someone from that side of the family made way for you to be here too.
Nobody can say anything to you. I know you’ve always felt some kind of way—”
Now he’d offended my ass. “I ain’t never felt any way about shit.”
His hands went up again but I felt some kind of way because he was smiling. Like he knew I really did have more feelings than I was letting on. “All I’m saying is this: nobody can take this away from you. That being nice that you’ve done? Let it die.”
“That being nice has kept a lot of trouble away from me when it came to the Franklins. If I let it die I create problems and envy. Why would I want that?”
Was I asking him for advice? Kinda. But more than anything, I wanted to see what he would say in response to my question.
“Because being nice was your grandfather’s way of not stirring the pot.
But it also gave people your money and influence to eventually use against you.
How you handing your potential enemies the means to come after you?
The profit sharing and shit was good, but the way y’all are keeping the Franklins afloat can’t continue forever.
The money will continue to get watered down and they’re going to be mad.
Me? I got my shit on my own. Helping my mama sling plates from the little money she was left from her parents’ life insurance.
Invested and opened up a legitimate avenue to help the Consortium as a whole without the Franklin name.
I don’t have to worry about my position because my shit is solid independent of the family legacy.
I didn’t get that shit out the mud, but I started on the corner outside of the penthouse suite.
They can’t say that. And soon they’re going to try to renegotiate or come for your shit. ”
“And again, why should I trust you?”
I asked the question to judge his mental not his honesty. He didn’t need to tell me any of this but he did. Whether it was for him to gain better footing when I took over or to be altruistic I wasn’t sure.
He shrugged not giving a fuck either way. “You don’t have to. I’m good where I am. How many times in these meetings have I spoken up? Tried to push back or give my input on something?”
He was right but I knew better than to give him credit for something that small. “Maybe you don’t really care. Or you’re playing the long game.”
“I don’t care. I appreciate having the protection that being a part of the family provides me but I make shit shake on my own.
With or without it. I told you, business is good.
We got the restaurants, nightclubs, gentlemen’s clubs—everything that we need.
I like being rich but couldn’t give a fuck about being wealthy.
That comes with a level of rubbing elbows with muthafuckas I’d rather shoot.
I like the level that I’m at and don’t want to be the face of anything.
I gotta clean my image up for. My dirt is too public-facing for me to ever want to be in your shoes.
I’m happier to look toward what could be and make shit shake on my own.
The last few years of our heyday before your people stepped in were nothing but scamming without any long-term investments.
Like they knew they were about to lose and wanted to grab whatever they could while they could.
That’s where they got fucked up at. They weren’t hungry.
Then they got bitter and looked for the easiest target. ”
“My mother.”
He sucked his teeth fed up talking to me. “No, nigga! You.”
Now I was cracking a smile. It had to be the long hair that had people thinking I was a bitch because nothing else about me gave easy target.
“Me? Anyone who sees me as an easy target is going to very quickly realize why that’s such a mistake.”