Chapter 6
EXODUS
“Where you at, fool?” Zeke asked on the other end of the phone.
“Moms crib.”
“For what?” He asked after sucking his teeth. “You hired shorty but be over there a lot more than usual.” He paused. “Aw shit. Don’t tell me bro—”
“Fuck you want nigga?” I asked, leaning on the kitchen island, phone pressed against my ear, staring off into the dark living room where I once sat on the couch with Sereia.
It was late.
After eleven and I was still at my ma’s shit.
Sereia left to go to bed about an hour ago and I was still posted.
Just in case. Just in case what? She had another moment.
A couple of hours ago, I sat on the couch with her while she cried against my chest. Grief weighed heavy on her spirit.
I felt it on her every single time we were in the same room together.
When I walked into the living room and saw her on the couch, crying, I had to sit with her.
Had to wrap my arms around her. Had to spread a little bit of good energy her way.
I wanted to be there for her. Oddly. Felt like I was supposed to be, to be honest. Big G didn’t put her in my life for no reason.
I didn't feel a pull towards her for nothing.
I was slipping, for sure. But I had good intentions.
I’d been supportive—only because I wanted to be.
She needed support. Not another bottle shoved in her face.
Earlier, she was in The Woods with her hood rat ass cousins, chilling in the courtyard getting fucked up.
The minute I seen her leave the crib in an Uber, I got on the jack with Rocc and told him to take his ass to The Woods to keep an eye on her.
I understood. The Woods was home to her but before, she had her brothers safety.
So, without him, they thought she was naked.
However, I wanted it to be known that she was heavily affiliated with us.
One look at the all-black whip, with Rocc behind the wheel, niggas would know.
And they knew.
Didn’t take long for news to travel around The Woods.
Zeke hit my line about it earlier. Said he heard whispers about Sereia and Exodus.
Muthafuckas got it wrong. Thanks to her gossiping ass ex-boyfriend.
But I didn't give a fuck. Didn’t matter to me how she was linked to me, I just wanted muthafuckas to know.
And to know she was linked to me was to know not to touch a fuckin’ hair on her head.
Didn’t go over that well with Jada but that was a different situation.
“What muthafuckas sayin true? Shorty like a sister—”
“To you,” I pointed out. “Listen… what the fuck do you want, nigga? Damn.”
He sighed. “The name came up again.”
I sat up straight, my ears perking up. “Where at?”
“Kingston. I’m out here with Lavish. Overheard his name standing in the line at the G-station.”
“Think niggas dropped it on purpose?”
Zeke snorted. “Fuck no. It was too casual. How many times now?”
“Too many,” I said after a brief moment of silence.
I was thinking.
Not too much.
Just… noticing.
Zeke didn’t have to tell me the name he’d heard for me to know he meant Jay—Jayceon. Big G was throwing me signs left and right. Thing about that was, I didn’t know if it was a sign of caution or one telling me to pay attention in a good way.
“I’m going to get up with Calvin in the morning,” I told Zeke, letting him know I was interested in giving Jayceon a little attention.
I didn’t put energy into just anybody. I needed a reason and for me, this was a good enough reason.
* * *
Hours later, I was waking up out of my sleep to my dogs sitting next to my bed, watching me.
Opening my eyes, I took them in. Poised.
Polite. Patiently waiting for me to wake up.
I sat up on my elbow, turned over and grabbed my phone.
I stared at the numbers, waiting for 5:59AM to switch to 6:00AM.
Didn’t take long at all. Once the alarm sounded, I sat the phone down and turned over.
Flicking my wrist, I called Prince over.
Eagerly, tail wagging, he walked over to the side of the bed where I gave his head a massage.
Right after, I gave Princess the same gesture and she walked over.
I massaged both their heads and said, “Good morning. Ready to eat?”
Tails got to wagging more.
I smiled, swung my legs to the side of the bed and stood, sliding my Versace house shoes on.
They gave me space but followed closely behind me as I walked off, over to the window to draw the drapes.
The sun was the first thing to greet me.
The birds, chirping, right after. I closed my eyes, allowing the sun to wash over me for a second before turning to leave the room. Prince and Princess followed.
I jogged down the stairs and into the kitchen where I pulled the refrigerator door open to grab three steaks, garlic butter, bell peppers and a couple of eggs.
Once I had everything I needed, I checked the cabinets for a few skillets and shit.
I didn’t cook often. Would rather have a quick bowl of cereal, low key.
But I knew my way around a kitchen because moms wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.
We might’ve been boys, but she showed us how to cook.
She was determined to show us how to survive in the real world, without her.
I didn’t like it. Hated being in the kitchen, honestly.
Would have rather been running around the hood.
But I stood, watching her anyway, obedient to not only my mother but God’s will too.
Even then. Felt like if she wanted me in the kitchen, watching, He wanted me there too.
Anyway.
I cooked some shit up. Steak and eggs for all of us.
Except I seasoned mine with salt and black pepper, cooking in that garlic butter.
For them, I used dog seasoning and a little bit of regular butter.
They had peppers too. Once I put their food in their bowls, I extended my hand, calling for their paws.
Prince was the first to give me his. He barked to remind Princess to give me hers, her attention was so fixed on the food.
Once we held hands, I said a short prayer.
The minute I said Amen, they attacked their bowls and I went to the island to have my own.
While I ate, I read. Finished the book and looked around the Kindle library for another, stumbling across something called Treacherous Twins by Natisha Raynor. I fucked with the title, so I added it to my library. Because I had shit to do, I decided to get into it later on tonight.
After we ate, I took them on a walk. As soon as I got back to the crib, I showered and afterward, spent a good two hours in my secret place. Before I knew it, it was eleven and I was on the phone with Calvin.
“Good morning,” Calvin answered. Chipper as fuck. Always chipper. Like the nigga was always in a good ass mood.
“Morning. You aight?” I asked, checking in.
“Fantastic.”
Lying ass nigga.
He wasn’t fantastic. Calvin had shit going on. I didn’t know exactly what but the persona? It was just that… a persona. He had serious shit going on. I felt it. Hated being able to feel shit the way I did.
“Alright, listen,” I said with a pause. “I need you to look into somebody. I just texted you his name. He from Kingston. That’s all I got on him.”
He paused, most likely checking his messages for the text I’d just sent over.
“Got it. Give me a couple of minutes—
“Nah. No quick shit, Calvin. I need a full rap up. I want everything on that nigga. Last school. Last grade completed type shit. Hell, send over the niggas transcript if you find it.”
It was something about Jayceon that didn’t sit well with my spirit.
I couldn’t pinpoint it for real. This morning’s conversation with Big G was vague.
I didn’t get anything on Jay. I asked. Listened.
Waited. Was patient but I got nothing. Shit made me so uneasy that I swallowed after about fifteen minutes of nothing.
I didn’t like when I got like this. When shit was unclear.
On one hand, I felt like I was being given a green light but something in my spirit said take it slow.
Proceed with caution. Only because this morning’s silence didn’t feel like the silence that came from the green light I was given when it came to Jada’s disappearance.
I’d been at this shit for a nice minute, but I still had a hard time differentiating between spirit and ego. Didn’t know if it was nerves or what.
So, I needed a full rap up.
“Alright. Give me until the end of the day, Big Dawg,” Calvin said.
“Aight, bet,” I said before hanging up.
Once the call ended, I got one from Solo.
Wasn’t off the phone good with Calvin before his call came through.
My phone stayed going up like that though.
When business hours opened, it was go time.
It was almost as if niggas kept their eyes on their clocks, waiting for it to strike eleven or some shit.
“What up pussy?” I answered, standing at the kitchen island, getting ready to roll up.
“Good morning, bitch nigga,” Solo shot back. “You went over the sheet for tomorrow's delivery? I don’t know what you niggas think but—”
“Stay on your side of things, Solo. That’s all I’m going to say about that.”
He was quiet for a second. Probably trying to choose his words wisely.
When I told Solo to stay on his side of things, that was usually a conversation ender.
But because tomorrow's shipment was a bit sketchy, he had questions. Questions I had answers for but wouldn’t give him.
He was on one side of this shit, I was on the other.
He didn’t need to pay attention to shit with a star on it.
“Not enough repenting in the world gon’ fix—”
“Fuck up, nigga. You don’t know shit about the relationship I got with Big G,” I said, as I cut into the wood.
He sighed. “I’m scheduling you for a baptism.”
I laughed. “Another one?”
“You need it.”
“Fifth within the last two years, Solo.”
“So?”
“I’m cool.”
“Trying to save you.”
“Save yourself,” I told him. “I’m cool.”
I held the phone on my shoulder with my head and started to spread weed into the wood.
Solomon didn’t always have issues with what I had going on.
It wasn’t until certain crates were marked on the shipments that he got in his feelings.
He was in his feelings for no reason. He didn’t know the contents but because the crates were caskets, marked with stars, his antennas went up.
He thought I was trafficking women and children.
He didn’t have to say it to me for me to pick up on the speculation.
You think I did anything to clarify? Think I explained it to him?
Fuck no. Solo could think what he wanted to think.
I didn’t give a fuck about none of what he had going on.
I had morals. There were lines I wouldn’t cross and that was one of them.
I had somewhat of a heart. Women and children were off limits.
Now, were some of those caskets filled with body parts?
Missing people? Yeah. Shit like that. Nothing like what he thought.
I made a nice amount of money transporting bodies—think I was going to stop because my brother couldn’t mind his side of the business?
A business he could have easily stepped away from.
I didn’t force Solomon into what we had going on.
Solomon wanted to be attached to Pastor Isaiah.
So instead of going off, starting his own church, he did everything attached to pops.
This is what came with it. Because the fact of it was, it was five of us and Solomon couldn’t have that piece of our legacy to himself, and himself only.
Genesis didn’t know what the hell was going on…
at all. All she got was a hefty deposit every month.
She didn’t ask questions or anything. Just took her cut and carried on with her life.
I understood why Solo was so invested though.
He was the face of the business after all. Still… Didn’t give a fuck.
“I got you down for—”
“I’m not getting baptized again, nigga. What is wrong with you?”
He was quiet for a second before saying, “I scratch your back, you scratch mine. Remember?”
I sighed and sat down, sparking fire to the l.
“Aight, bitch. Text me the date, ho ass nigga.”
With that, I hung up.
One thing I hated about our agreement was shit like that. Solo didn’t ask for much in return, just for me to do things here and there. Religious shit like baptism, speak at service sometimes, and volunteer work. He knew how to get me when I didn’t want to be gotten.
After I got off with him, I grabbed the MacBook, got to work and faced the whole blunt in the process.