36. Asha
Asha
After we'd eaten, I checked my phone. Omar had texted at six: Heading to Ma's. Kadeem wants to do the follow-up debrief today. You up for it?
Yeah. Give me an hour.
Take your time. Ma's making food.
Nene looked at me over her mug. "What's the plan?"
"Kadeem wants me at Portia's for a follow-up debrief. More questions about Supreme's operation. Secondary holdings, guard schedules, the stuff I didn't cover the first time."
"You gave them everything already?"
"Most of it. But Devon's been cross-referencing overnight and he's got more questions based on what he found."
Nene nodded slowly. "You're really doing this. Dismantling the whole thing."
"That's the plan."
"And you're okay?"
"Yeah," I said. "I'm okay."
"Good." She finished her coffee. "Then go do what you gotta do. I'll be here when you get back."
"You sure you'll be alright here alone?"
"Girl, I got Omar's TV, Omar's couch, Omar's fridge full of Portia's food. I'm better than alright." She waved me toward the door. "Go. Give Kadeem everything he needs to take that man down."
I showered, got dressed, and took a car to Bed-Stuy.
Kadeem had more questions based on what Devon had found overnight. Devon was there too with his laptop, cross-referencing everything I said against his databases in real time.
I sat across from Kadeem with Portia's coffee and started filling in the gaps.
"Cee's routine," Kadeem began. "Walk me through a typical day."
"He picks me up at the apartment between eight-thirty and nine.
Drives me to the salon, parks outside. He doesn't come inside unless Supreme tells him to, which only started recently.
He stays in the car until I text him I'm done.
If I have a home visit he drives me there, waits outside, drives me back. "
"Does he carry?"
"Always. Piece in his waistband, right side. He's left-handed so he draws across his body."
Devon typed. Kadeem wrote.
"What about Mike? The warehouse door."
"Mike works the door from six in the evening until two in the morning. He's the only one Supreme trusts to handle the front entrance. He checks everyone who comes in, runs names against a list Supreme updates weekly. If your name ain't on the list you don't get through the door."
"What's the list look like? How many names?"
"Twenty, maybe twenty-five. It changes depending on what Supreme's running that week. Product nights have more names than money nights."
"And the four men closest to Supreme," Kadeem continued. "Names."
I took a breath. This was the part where I was dismantling everything I'd built inside the life of a man who would kill me for what I was doing at this table. Every name I gave them was a bridge burning behind me.
"Dre handles the Crown Heights territory.
He runs the collections, manages the runners, reports directly to Supreme every morning.
Terrence runs East New York, same structure, same reporting.
Bolo is Supreme's personal security when Cee isn't around.
He travels with Supreme to meetings, carries two weapons, sits outside the door of whatever room Supreme's in.
" I paused. "And then there's Ray-Ray. Not my father.
Different Ray. He handles the Atlanta side of things, the distribution network Supreme built down there.
He's the one who ran the operation while Supreme was in Brooklyn. "
"Ray-Ray got a real name?" Devon asked without looking up.
"Raymond Simmons. Goes by Ray-Ray. Supreme calls him Little Ray to differentiate from my father."
Kadeem looked at me across the table. "You memorized all of this."
"Three years of sitting in rooms where men talked like I wasn't there. They'd discuss business in front of me because Supreme treated me like furniture. Part of the house, part of the decoration. He never considered that I was listening."
"Well, you were." Kadeem almost smiled. "And now we got everything they said."
"The Crown Heights location on Sterling," he continued. "That the only holding spot he uses?"
"He's got two others I know about. One in Flatbush, above a laundromat. One in East New York near the expressway. He rotates depending on what he's storing."
"Product or cash?"
"Both. Sometimes people."
Kadeem looked at me. I met his eyes. He nodded and wrote it down.
"The East New York location," Devon cut in. "Cameras?"
"Two that I saw. One on the fence gate, one inside above the storage area. They feed to a monitor in the front room but nobody watches it. It's mostly for recording."
Devon made a note. "I can disable those remotely if I can get the IP address."
"The monitor has a sticker on the side with the network info. Supreme's tech security was garbage. He relied on manpower instead of systems."
Kadeem and Devon exchanged a look. The amount of operational intelligence I was handing them was more than they'd expected. Years of sitting in rooms where men talked freely, years of a woman they'd underestimated memorizing every detail she could hold.
Portia moved through the kitchen while we worked.
She made more coffee, put out food nobody asked for, wiped counters that were already clean.
She didn't say a word about what was being discussed at her table.
But when she passed behind my chair she put her hand on my shoulder and left it there for a second before moving on.
When we finished Kadeem gathered his notes and looked across the table at me.
"This everything?" he asked.
"Everything I got."
"You sure there ain't nothing else? Anything you might have forgotten or left out?"
I thought about it. Went through the three years in my head, room by room, conversation by conversation.
"There's one more thing. Supreme kept a safe in the bedroom closet.
Behind the suits on the left side. I never saw what was in it but he opened it every morning before he left and every night before bed.
Whatever's in there, it mattered to him more than anything else in that apartment. "
Kadeem looked at Devon. Devon made a note.
"That's good," Kadeem said. "That's real good, Asha."
He stood up, shook my hand across the table like I was a colleague instead of his brother's girlfriend, and left with Devon. I sat at Portia's table with my coffee and empty plate for a while.
I'd given them everything. Every piece of knowledge I'd gathered since Supreme took me of living with Supreme. Every name, every number, every schedule, every layout. The information that would take his empire apart.
Portia came to the table and sat down across from me. She didn't say anything for a long moment. Then she reached across and covered my hand with hers.
"You're a brave girl," she said quietly. "Your mama would be proud of you."
My eyes burned. I blinked hard. "You knew my mama?"
"Knew her face from the neighborhood. She was beautiful. Just like you." Portia squeezed my hand. "Now finish your coffee. You earned it."
I finished my coffee.
Then I went home to Omar's apartment where Nene was waiting with the TV on, ready to share every opinion she'd been holding in all day.
I sat down next to her on the couch and let her talk. About the apartment, about Omar's lack of decorating sense, about James being fine, about what we were going to do next. Normal conversation. Normal volume. No performance.
I was free and my best friend was next to me and the man I cared about was out there building a plan to finish what I'd started.
For the first time since all of this began, I let myself believe it was going to be okay.