Chapter 14 - Relic #5
“Zero, eight. Zero one. Zero five. That’s the passcode to the safes,” he told Los, turning the light back off before trekking past his folks to climb up the stairs.
He knew unlike everyone else; Los wouldn’t pry for more information than given.
Like Relic figured, his folks remained silent and followed his lead, moving aside as he shut his hatch door and concealed it with the fridge.
Once he ensured the cabin was straight, and he’d turned off the lights, they exited before he caught Los by the arm when the nigga tried to head to the cab.
“How the fuck do you expect to get in without access to the door? Lock your print in.”
“Man, give me a fucking key!”
“You see a goddamn keyhole anywhere? Don’t even worry about it. Break in if you need to,” he snapped, and Los laughed before pressing his prints to the screen once Relic pulled up the system settings. “Don’t tell anyone—”
“Nigga, who you talking to?” Los interjected, grilling him. “You forgot who you were doing this shit with from day one?”
“If I did, you wouldn’t know shit about my bread, the cabin, or where I’m about to take you.”
“Damn, I can’t go home yet,” Los complained as they strode to the cab.
They hopped inside, and Relic shook his head while clambering behind the seats where the twin-sized bed was located.
He popped off the plastic wall frame to set on the mattress and then unzipped his bag to start unloading the bricks to seal into the semi-cab wall.
Los passed his bag to Relic with a bob of his head.
“So, this is how you’re moving work so fast? Selling it across the whole state.”
“What’d you think I was doing? Slanging on a damn corner or waiting for the gang to bring me back that little slice of money?
I front them a brick or two to keep ‘em fed and loyal for protection, but the bulk is moved out. Every weekend, like clockwork, I pick it up and then get it on the road Tuesday nights.”
“So, you’re the distro?”
“Can’t be shit else after all this time. Anything else is working backwards, folks. I got my hands dirty to where I earned it.”
Relic pushed the wall back in place and moved to the front, taking his seat before he buckled up and pulled off without preamble.
He was ready to get the hell home and end his night in some pussy he’d left on simmer too damn long.
He’d been running for weeks, leaving Kennedy with too much idle time, which he realized was the reason that damn prepaid phone got more attention than him.
“When did that start?” Los said as Relic reversed and whipped the semi-cab around to peel off. His cousin cut a side eye at him at clarified “Being the distro.”
“Not too long after you got shot. I had to find a way to move out of sight since it was just me, and the shit kind of fell in my lap. I ran into the man who owns this truck. Back then, he had one box truck and had used his savings to buy it. His wife was pissed he did that shit after losing his job. We started talking at a bar, and I suggested a deal that could benefit us both. I became a silent partner to help him start a trucking company, and he gave me a means to move weight. When I presented our arrangement to the supplier, he went for it.”
“And you didn’t think to do it while I was in the field with you?”
“No, because that was my alternative to doing the shit without you. Don’t come at me like I cut you off, Los. You bowed out.”
“So, it was just fuck me? After all the grinding we did together, you couldn’t run the idea by me? That was some shit I could’ve done and still been out of the way with my family. That ain’t cross your mind?”
Relic scoffed. “Do you think I was worried about you when I was trying to figure out how I was gon’ do this shit alone?
How I couldn’t stop like you because I had mouths to feed and no fucking parents to fall back on.
You left me out to dry, nigga! Shabu got shot, and he ain’t fold.
Pierre went to jail plenty of times, and he ain’t fold.
Bet he didn’t tell you how much I kicked off each time either.
I got shot, and that shit ain’t stop me.
You bitched up, Los! What the fuck do I owe you? ”
“Nigga, everything! We built this shit—”
“I built this shit, bitch! We weren’t moving work near the weight I push now, and you know it!
Yo ass is mad at the fact, I did it without you.
That I took off running when you thought I would slow down or be stagnant.
I did what I was supposed to do with my money, and you held on to yours like the scary, hoe ass nigga you are. Scared money never made no money!
“You don’t deserve shit but whatever you have. The money you worked for. This ain’t no career with disability or unemployment, pussy ass nigga! If you out of the field, then you’re out of the funds. Am I seeing any money from that tattoo parlor or skin care salon your wife don’t know is yours?”
“For the fuck what?”
“My goddamn point! I didn’t put in on that, and you didn’t put in on this. All you did was bow out on me, but you did me a favor. I learned to protect myself ‘cause you would’ve had me in the dirt like Kennedy’s brother with how you switched up with no warning.”
Relic rolled his tongue across his teeth, mashing a foot on the gas harder to get to their destination swifter before anger pushed him to expose more details he shouldn’t.
He saw their argument coming a mile aways since Los always desired what he had.
It had been that way since they were kids.
His cousin didn’t like seeing him soar above him on any level, but that had never been a problem when they’d carried and lifted each other wherever they’d gone.
When Los bowed out, he’d chosen to stay below Relic, and Relic refused to apologize for a decision his cousin had made.
Los emitted a laugh, rubbing a hand down his mouth because Relic was on one.
His cousin didn’t get how it felt to almost die while having shit to lose.
Nubia and his kids were his world, and the streets didn’t matter above them, ever.
That was some shit Relic couldn’t comprehend when he’d cared about himself more than anyone all his life.
“All I’m saying is that I would’ve thought about you. If you had a baby on the way, and a girl and kids at home, I would’ve run that by you, nigga,” Los explained, hoping his cousin understood his frustration. “When we started in the game, we had the same goal. This was survival for us, Relic.”
“A way of goddamn life,” Relic finished their mantra.
He took his eyes off the road to aim at his cousin and said, “Don’t forget that part.
Somewhere along the way, dealing wasn’t your way of life anymore.
You chose your wife and kids, Los. A simple life.
Regular shit because you’d rather that than have Nubia bury you.
I ain’t judging, but I chose to keep hustling because that was life or death for me.
“While you were home with your goddamn wife and kids, I was alone, carrying this shit on my back. And what do I have to show for it besides a son who don’t know me, brothers who’ve made families of their own, and a fucking ungrateful ass cousin in my ear like he ain’t got it all while I don’t have shit.
I have nothing to show for this besides a prison sentence looming over my head and a family that’s about to reap the benefits of the seeds I sowed while I rot in a fucking cell. ”
“What?” Los frowned as Relic refocused on the road. “Nah, don’t do that dumb ass, mute shit. What the fuck do you mean, a prison sentence is over your head?”
“I meant what I said. You made your choices, I made mine, and now we both have to deal with them. Ain’t shit else to talk about.”
For the first time since they’d gotten in the semi, Los shut the fuck up like Relic preferred, although the random glances were felt, and the heavy sighs heard.
He peeked in his folk’s direction after Los dropped his head and looked up as if he were making the prayers Relic was too prideful to send out—the requests he knew wouldn’t get answered from the man above because the dirt he’d done warranted a first-class trip to hell.
Either on earth or in the dirt, but if Relic judged by the constant grievances in his life, he’d go with both.
It wasn’t until he was pulling into the parking lot of the trucking company, lining the semi cab up with the row of freight trucks, that he decided to hear Los out.
“Say what you need to say and get that shit out, but I don’t want pity or crying like a pussy.”
“How the fuck you expect me to have a comeback for that, nigga?!” Los shouted before they fell into laughter.
“I feel like you cheated, holding that shit in the tuck to make me look like a fuck nigga for bitching ‘bout some money. I ain’t got a sob story to compete with that. Shit, I’d have to lie on one of my kids and say they’re sick or something. I can’t put that in the air.”
“Exactly, I win. Pull yo panties out of your ass, so we can line shit up. Nothing stops while I’m gone. If the Feds don’t seize the businesses, the ladies will keep everything running for those, which is why I put them there.”
“The label is gon’ be shut down for sure,” Los said as Relic killed the engine and grabbed the empty duffels.
“It ain’t stopping shit. The team is still going to work, do shows, and the whole nine. The good part about being indicted is that it’s more exposure for them.”
“Fasho. So, what do you need from me?”
Relic hopped out of the semi once he noticed the boss heading toward them, and Los did the same. Relic made sure to lock the truck as they walked while he explained to Los his directions.
“All you have to do is pay my attorney fees, since we know they’ll freeze my accounts, and pay any other large fees that might come up for my brothers. Especially about Shabu’s wedding.”
“Heard, but I hope you weren’t dumb enough to put your money into a bank account,” Los said. Relic snorted a scoff.
“A million, but it’s for a paper trail they can follow. If it was nothing there, that’d be even more suspicious. Mr. Newman!” he cupped a hand around his mouth to shout, changing the subject before Los became too curious about private matters he’d tell on his time.
The man who’d been secretly working with Relic for years strolled up with a tip of his hat and a beaming smile that had nothing to do with seeing Relic.
“This is the last one, right?” Mr. Newman got straight to the point, making Relic chuckle.
“Last one. You won’t see me for a while after this, if at all. This is my cousin, Los. If you need anything, reach out to him, and he’ll make it happen for you. His number is in my paperwork.”
Mr. Newman sized Los up before frowning. “I don’t know this boy! You want me to trust some stranger with my business? It took me years to trust you.”
“You trusted my money.”
“Yea, ‘cause I’m old enough to know money talks and bullshit walks,” he quipped pointing at their feet. “Tell his ass don’t bring no shit over here, Relic.”
“He won’t, I promise. My cousin hasn’t been into that life for a minute. He owns two businesses, and runs them on the frontline, unlike me. He knows his shit.”
“I’m taking your word for it. Now, give my keys and get the hell off my property before I call the police.”
“Say no more.”
Relic tossed a chuckling Mr. Newman the keys before he chucked his chin and tapped Los on the arm, signaling his folks toward his car he’d parked by the entrance. Just as he neared it, Mr. Newman whistled to get his attention. Relic spun around.
“What you want me to do about those checks you had me cutting and mailing?” he quizzed. Relic thought about it before cracking a smile.
“Send next month’s and then stop them. I think I can handle the rest of the payments from here.”