18. Deuce
DEUCE
The second Grandma Lorraine hung up that phone in my face. That lady words irritated the fuck outta me because deep down I knew she was right. “Before you lose your family.”
That sentence kept replaying in my head nonstop while I drove down Livernois with the windows cracked.
Detroit looked alive. Music blasting from passing cars, niggas outside liquor stores.
Hellcats flying through lights like traffic laws ain’t exist. Women dressed half naked standing outside hookah lounges laughing loud as hell.
Meanwhile my whole life felt like it was in shambles.
I should’ve never let Kim get this emotionally attached that was mistake number one.
I should’ve kept shit strictly sex. Then Shante's pregnancy complicated everything even worse.
Malik was emotionally involved, Alisha playing auntie.
Baby showers getting discussed and every time I thought about how ugly the truth was gone be if it ever surfaced it made my damn head hurt.
None of that even scared me as much as the Feds. Agent Brown was getting bolder questioning my wife at her shop and pulling up to Grandma Lorraine’s house. Watching routes and following people. That meant they believed they were close.
My phone rang through the truck speakers interrupting my thoughts it was Rell.
I answered. “What sup Rell?”
“We got a problem.”
“When don’t we?” I replied.
“Nah, this one serious.”
“Talk.”
“The Skambino people in town.”
“Fuck.” I yelled.
I rubbed my beard slowly, already feeling the pressure. “Who?”
“Vito and them.”
Damn not Vito. Vito wasn’t no regular street nigga. He handled high-level movement for the Skambino Mob, money, weapons, drugs, and bodies probably. If he came to Detroit personally that meant the missing shipment situation officially escalated.
“Where y’all at?” I asked.
“The warehouse.”
“I’m on my way.” The second I hung up; I pressed harder on the gas weaving through traffic.
This was exactly what I was trying to avoid.
Street politics and federal investigations never mixed well.
By the time I pulled up to the warehouse, three black trucks already sat outside.
Tint dark as hell, engines running. That told me these niggas came expecting problems.
The second I walked inside; tension filled the entire warehouse.
Rell stood near the office looking stressed while three unfamiliar men leaned against crates watching everything.
And sitting in my office chair like he owned the place was Vito.
Muthafucka looked exactly like somebody who ordered murders casually over dinner.
He had a gray suit on with Italian loafers with a Salt-and-pepper beard. He wore a calm expression.
“The man of the fucking hour,” Vito said smoothly once he saw me.
I walked over slowly. “What’s good.”
“Not much right now apparently.”
I sat across from him while Rell stood nearby. I already knew this conversation wasn’t gone be pleasant.
“You know why I’m here?” Vito asked.
“Cause the shipment got hit.” I let him know.
Then he leaned forward slightly. “And because my people want answers.”
I stayed calm externally even though internally my mind was moving a hundred miles per hour. Losing product was one thing but losing trust with organizations like theirs got niggas buried under concrete.
“We handling it,” I answered.
“How?”
“We investigating.”
That made Vito smirk slightly. “Investigating.” Like the word amused him.
“One of your drivers got caught with enough artillery to start a small war,” he continued casually. “That’s not a minor inconvenience.”
“I know exactly what it is.”
“And yet…” His eyes moved slowly around the warehouse. “…you still breathing comfortably.”
Damn that was definitely a threat. I leaned back slowly, crossing my arms. “You questioning my operation?”
“I’m questioning your control.”
“Ain’t nobody lost control.”
“Oh really?” Vito folded his hands calmly. “Because from where I’m sitting… the FBI seems very interested in your business lately.”
If they knew federal pressure existed that meant word was spreading already. “We good,” I told him.
“Are you?”
One thing about men like Vito you couldn’t show fear. The second they smelled weakness; they’d devour you alive.
“We gone replace the shipment,” I said firmly.
“With what timeline?”
“Soon.”
“That’s not a timeline.”
I stared directly at him. “You got my word.” That still meant something in the streets. My word carried weight or at least it used to.
Vito studied me before finally standing up. “I hope so.” Then he adjusted his suit calmly. “Because my employers don’t enjoy losing money.” Then they walked to their trucks and left.
When him and his people finally left, the entire warehouse energy loosened slightly. Mine didn’t not at all.
Rell immediately started pacing. “We fucked.”
“No, we not.”
“Nigga did you not hear him?”
I rubbed my temples slowly. “We just need to find the snake and cut its head off.”
“Or snakes.”
“Could be somebody connected to me personally.”
Immediately his face changed.
“You thinking Kim.”
“Yeah, it’s the only thing that makes sense. She has been making threats If I didn’t give her what Alisha got.”
“You know what needs to happen.”
I already knew where this conversation was headed. Kim was risking everybody’s freedom. And that type betrayal usually ended bloody.
My mind kept drifting back toward Alisha too and her face earlier. The way she looked at me like I was a lying cheating ass husband.
“You listening?” Rell asked interrupting my thoughts.
“Huh?”
“You getting distracted.”
“I’m thinking.”
“What the fuck you thinking about besides figuring out how to get us out this shit.”
That statement instantly irritated me.
“I am thinking about how to get us out of this shit.” I snapped.
“Exactly.”
My street life and my home life were colliding. There was no separation anymore. “I’m gone handle it,” I let him know.
Rell nodded slowly. “You better.”
A couple hours later I finally left the warehouse mentally exhausted. I stopped at a red light near Seven Mile and finally leaned my head back against the seat for a second. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt peace.
My phone rang again and it was Kim, I declined it. I couldn’t deal with her and her emotions. I couldn’t deal with another argument about love and attention and being hidden.
Not while the FBI and cartel pressure closing in simultaneously. What if Kim actually was talking accidentally? Not intentionally snitching emotional women talked especially when hurt. Agent Brown wasn’t stupid he probably been reading his own daughter this entire time. Watching her behavior.
“Fuck.” I yelled. Kim was becoming a liability and that changed everything.
No matter how frustrated I got with her I couldn’t bring myself to truly hate her.
By the time I finally pulled back up to the house, it was almost two in the morning.
Outside this house my life was chaotic but inside was still supposed to be home.
When I walked inside quietly, I noticed the TV still on low in the living room.
One of Brittany's cartoons was playing, she probably fell asleep watching it.
I headed upstairs slowly before pushing the bedroom door open carefully and there laid my whole world.
Alisha laid asleep curled around Brittany while our daughter snored softly in princess pajamas.
The moonlight spilled across the bed softly while I stood there just watching them.
Brittany looked just like me when she slept.
And Alisha still looked beautiful to me.
I walked closer quietly before pulling the blanket higher over them both.
Part of me hated the distance growing between us and the lies.
I hated what I turned our marriage into.
Still, I convinced myself everything I did was for them.
Standing there watching them sleep peacefully, I started realizing maybe I wasn’t protecting my family anymore.
Maybe I was becoming the biggest danger around them.
I sat downstairs for another twenty minutes after looking in on Alisha and Brittany.
Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t think straight either.
The liquor burned going down while old Jeezy played low through the kitchen speakers, but even that wasn’t calming me tonight.
One wrong move right now could send everything crashing.
The next day I found myself pulling up to Shante apartment.
Truthfully, I wasn’t even sure why I came.
Maybe guilt or curiosity. Ever since she told me she was pregnant, something about her voice over the phone ain’t been sitting right with me.
Either way, I was there now. I knocked twice before the door finally opened.
Damn, my little sister looked rough and defeated. Like life had been dragging her through the mud. Her eyes were swollen. Hair wrapped up, oversized T-shirt hanging off her frame. She looked exhausted. The kind of tired sleep couldn’t fix.
“The fuck you want?” she asked.
Same old Shante, I walked inside. “Nice seeing you too.”
She rolled her eyes and shut the door. “I’m not in the mood today.”
I looked around her house. “You okay?”
The look she gave me told me how stupid that question sounded. “Do I look okay?”
I didn’t answer cause honestly, she didn’t.
For the first time since all this started, I actually took a second and looked at what I’d asked her to do.
She was carrying a baby for me and Kim. Pretending it belonged to her boyfriend and lying to her best friend every day.
And dealing with pregnancy hormones on top of all that. The situation was fucked up.
“You ruined my life.” She whined.
I sighed, here we go.
“No, don’t start sighing either.” She pointed directly at me. “You gone listen.”
I folded my arms and leaned against the counter. “I’m listening.”
“You know what I miss?”
“What?”
“Alisha.”
That answer surprised me tears filled her eyes.
“I miss my best friend. We used to talk every day.” She laughed bitterly. “Now every time she call me, I gotta lie.”
I looked away, because there wasn’t much, I could say to that.
“She trusts me.” More tears. “She tells me everything.” Another tear rolled down her face. “And I’m sitting around carrying her husband's baby.”
Damn that one even hit me.
“Every time she hug me, I feel guilty. “She wiped her eyes. “Every time she talks about how much she loves me I feel guilty.”
I stayed quiet.
“And Kim getting on my damn nerves.”
I rubbed my beard. “What she do now?”
“What does she do?” Shante smacked her lips. “She calls me every damn day.”
I couldn’t help but smile slightly. “Cause she excited.”
“Fuck excited. She asking about appointments.” Shante threw her hands up.
“I’m the one throwing up every morning.”
“That’s her baby.” Wrong thing to say.
Immediately her face twisted. “See?” She pointed at me. “That’s exactly why I can’t stand talking to you.”
“What?”
“You don’t care about nobody but yourself.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“No, it ain’t. You got me lying to my best friend, and Malik thinking he is about to be a father. You got Kim blowing my phone up. And somehow, I’m supposed to smile through all this shit.”
I looked at her.
“You announced your pregnancy.”
Her eyes got big. “Are you serious right now?”
“You did.” I shrugged.
“I wasn’t supposed to tell my man I was pregnant?” She yelled.
“I told you to leave.”
That made her laugh so hard she almost doubled over. “Leave?”
“Yes.”
“Like a damn fugitive?”
“It would’ve solved a lot.”
“You sound dumb as hell.”
I shrugged.
“You know what your problem is?”
I already knew I wasn’t gone like whatever came next.
“What’s my problem Shante?”
“You selfish, you only care because this keeps you outta prison.”
She wasn’t wrong about that either. Finally, I looked at her. “Let’s not act like I ain’t looked out for you.”
She rolled her eyes.
“There you go with that bullshit.”
“When Mama died, who stepped up?”
“When you needed money, who handled it? I always made sure you had what you needed.”
She stared at me. Then pointed toward the door. “Then make sure my money hit my account.”
I sighed.
“It will.”
“You better.” Then she opened the door. “Now get the fuck out.”
I looked at her standing there pregnant and miserable. I realized my sister wasn’t handling this nearly as well as I convinced myself she was.