Chapter 6 Zo #2
“Sup, boss?” He asked as he dapped me up and fell right back into his position.
“Ain’t shit, what’s good?” I said as I stepped through the door and closed it behind me.
For there to have been a meeting, it was quiet when I walked into the house.
Quiet wasn’t normal when they got together, especially if Judah was there.
They were already chilling when I walked into the family room.
Judah sat at the bar, reading through shipment reports; Jax was lying across the couch, tracing routes; Trouble had his safe open and was putting cash in it.
Nobody noticed me standing there at first.
Finally, Jax lifted his eyes. “What’s up? I see you made it back,” he joked as he stood to dap me up.
Judah cracked a grin. “Back and stupid.” He said as he got up to shake my hand, then dropped back into the stool.
Trouble didn’t look up; he was focused on logging the stacks of money he was counting. Then he finally broke his silence and spoke. “Sanchez sent me the footage.”
They all started laughing as I looked at them, confused.
“What footage?” I asked.
Judah couldn’t hold it in. “This nigga… You really stabbed a man in a coca field?” He said as they burst into laughter again.
“Man, fuck y’all,” I said, shaking my head but laughing with them. “I should’ve known y’all were going to come with the bullshit.”
“We’ll come back to that. Right now, we need to go over the numbers.” Trouble said once the laughter had died down. He abandoned the safe and then went over to grab the other set of papers in front of Judah.
“Sit down.” He said, pointing next to Jax. I dropped into the chair, and the clowning faded just enough for business to take over.
“What’s the field looking like?” Jax asked.
I started with what we had gone over in Bolivia: “Santos said he’ll move the next two shipments at seventy percent purity.
That’s better than Russia but worse than Colombia.
Cost margin still gives us a profit. But we need to find a way to get better.
The product is moving faster than they can grow it.
I know you like doing business with Santos, but you might have to expand to another field. ”
Once no one agreed with me, I kept talking, “The demand right now is too high, and his workers can’t produce fast enough. They are processing the plants too early, and the purity is suffering as a result. Eventually, the shit is going to stop selling.” I continued.
Nobody told me that becoming an underboss meant I'd be doing homework in another country. But that’s what it had become.
Spending thirty days in the fields with Santos opened my eyes to many flaws in their business.
I wasn’t trying to undermine their connection; I was just bringing it to attention that they had outgrown that one field.
Trouble was the only one who seemed to understand what I was saying because he nodded in agreement.
Jax nodded, eyes sharp, but he disagreed.
“Nah, it’s not a production problem. They’ve been doing this shit for years.
They could easily produce more than we could handle.
It’s them niggas being lazy. If Santos’ nephew is out here stealing from anybody on our side, it means the field crew is getting too comfortable.
Comfortable always leads into something else. ”
Trouble cut in, “Comfortable turns into stealing my shit. I say we give him the opportunity to tighten up on his guys before we look for a second field.”
We all nodded.
Judah folded his arms, not being able to stay away from the bullshit too long. “So, Zo, what exactly happened before you put your boot in the boy’s chest?” He laughed, circling back to Santos’ nephew.
“He was trailing me; he was too damn close to me all morning. I let it go until the fourth time.” I answered with a shrug.
“What did Santos do?” Judah asked.
“Did he get stabbed, too? He didn’t do anything.
” I asked, making them all chuckle. I respected Santos and who he was to the JMF.
He treated me like family the entire stay.
But I wasn’t going to spare him or his nephew when it came to my respect.
Because I knew if the shoe was on the other foot, he would do the same for me.
Disrespect wasn’t tolerated, regardless of who you were attached to.
Jax finally put the tablet down. “That’s important.”
I looked at him. “Why?”
“Everything with Santos is a test. When he talked to us about it, he called you brave heart. He’s been working with you every day for a month. Probably wants to know if he can trust you, or if you would fold under pressure,” Jax said. They all nodded in agreement.
Judah nodded. “Yeah, Jax is right. That could also mean that he wants to see how he could add you to his camp.”
“Shit, he got the answer to his test, what was I supposed to do?” I scoffed.
“Nah, nah. You definitely handled that the right way. That nigga went in your pockets, touched your ass, and took your money.” Judah shot back.
We all went silent before we burst into laughter.
“Fuck you, nigga, all that didn’t happen.” I corrected his clown ass.
He held his side with laughter as he said, “Santos said you snatched him off the tractor, but it kept rolling into the plants. He said it’s a whole row of coca plants in the engine. And the whole field calls you El Demonio Americano.”
I stared. “What the hell does that mean?”
Jax burst out. “The American demon.”
Trouble cracked a rare smile. “Accurate as fuck.”
Jaxon clicked the remote, and the footage of the coca field came into view on the TV.
It showed the nigga taking the money out of my pocket and hiding it just as I turned around.
Judah was in tears, laughing. I sat back, shaking my head, not in the mood for their bullshit.
“Y’all niggas clowns. This is what y’all wanted the whole time?
I came to talk business, but y’all want to joke about the coca field? ”
“A lil bit,” Trouble laughed as he went back over to the safe to finish what he had started.
Jax chuckled and rewound to the part when I snatched him off the tractor, “Next time you go to Bolivia, try not to stab the workforce.”
After they had finally gotten enough of watching that video, we sat back for the next couple of hours, having drinks and throwing around business ideas.
By the end of the visit, we had mapped out how the next five years would look if we kept pushing.
It was a welcome distraction from all the shit going on around us.
For a moment, we weren’t just Mafia bosses, just four brothers who were shooting the shit and trying to figure out a way to make sure we left a legacy to our children and their children.
“Be easy,” I said to the guard as I walked out the front door of the compound. I climbed into the back of the truck. Checking the time, I realized the security shift change had just taken place, so I opened the app to make sure all the guards had checked in and were on post.
Once everyone was accounted for, I checked the house cameras.
I saw that Rem was sitting at the table, letting Zoey brush her hair like she knew she wasn’t getting paid for it.
I chuckled as Rem flinched when she brushed her eyebrow.
I exhaled. I might have too many late nights and early mornings, but the freedom I was watching on the screen is what I do it for.