Chapter 12
Chapter
Twelve
CASH
H eaviness had been sitting on my heart since I left Sugar’s house last night.
I understood her hesitance to talk to and trust God again.
That was a common reaction after something as shattering as losing a parent.
While some relied on God through faith for the transition, some allowed that to be what caused them to stray away.
Before making any moves today, I stopped by Pops’ grave.
I missed him more. This was a situation I would have gone to him to help me navigate as a man.
Though I appreciated being able to talk to my mother about literally any and everything, some things I would have preferred to have his input on.
I prayed then talked to his spirit, though I knew it was resting, and I allowed all that he’d taught me while he was here to guide me on what to do.
After that, I stopped by Tristan’s office to let him in on what I was thinking about the app.
Without him having to do any research, he knew from personal experience from his own profitable parlays.
I told him a little about Tyreek and how smart he was and how I wanted to gift him with something that he could nurture and watch grow over the years.
He assured me that he’d have his team do some research, and since I already had the firm on retainer, he was willing to help us strategize if we decided to do the app.
As soon as I made it back to my Corvette, I checked my phone and saw that I had several missed calls from Rhakeem and Dre.
If both of them were calling me, that meant something was going on with the business.
Though Rhakeem was my best friend and right hand man, Dre and Michael were who I trusted most with the day to day leg work of running my supply business.
They kept my teams in line, made sure everything was everything at the farm, and kept me abreast of any threats when the streets talked.
I decided to call Rhakeem back on a secured line because I didn’t want to wait to know what was going on until we got face to face. He answered but didn’t speak right away as he lowered the volume on his music.
“Wassup?” he greeted.
“Shit, wassup?”
“You talk to Dre?”
“Not yet. Did I need to call him first?”
“He can give you more details than I can. I was calling to see what you wanted to do about the shit.”
“Do about what?” I asked, brows wrinkling in confusion.
“He said one of the trucks were hit.”
Chuckling, I rolled my tongue across my cheek. “What truck? The food truck, right? Because I refuse to believe a motherfucka got the balls to steal from one of my other trucks.”
Rhakeem released a hard exhale.
“Nah. That truck. I ain’t got the details. Call him, then call me back and let me know what you want me to do.”
That’s what made us a good team. Rhakeem didn’t feel no type of way about me being the boss of this shit.
He had his own role, and he did it well.
He was my soldier. He was disciplined and had no problem following rules.
Any command I gave that man he carried out with no fucking hesitation.
People knew I was a blatant threat, but one of the worst things they could do was not think Rhakeem was a threat too.
He pulled his piece first, but he was just as deadly as me—if not more.
While I tried to give grace and operate from a certain set of principles, when it came to business, money, and those Rhakeem loved, he didn’t give a fuck about none of that shit.
I ended the call then dialed Dre’s number.
“Boss man,” he answered as wind howled in his background. It filled me with pride knowing my team was out and about handling business. I had peace in knowing I didn’t have to check in on them and follow their every move.
“What’s going on? Somebody hit one of my trucks?” I confirmed.
“Yeah. It was the truck that was delivering to Sko and his team. That was a heavy load to lose, boss. I ain’t even gon’ front.”
“How much was on it?” I asked through gritted teeth, tightening my grip on the steering wheel.
“He ordered four hundred pounds.”
That information caused me to swerve into the turning lane so I could park the car. I couldn’t even respond right away. The last thing I wanted to do was take my frustration out on Dre just because he was the messenger, but that would have been a six hundred thousand dollar delivery.
“How much was taken?”
“I got Omar handling the count. I’ll give you the final count, but so far, a third of that was taken.”
The laughter that escaped me was not from amusement at all.
“How did this shit happen anyway? How many men were on the truck? Why they ain’t fill them niggas with bullets? You telling me my team of men let somebody take my shit? Are they still breathing?”
“Aight, so I’ma just tell you exactly what Rafeal told me,” he said, and I could tell he was tired of my questions, but I didn’t really give a fuck.
“He called and said the truck had been hit. I asked him how and where and he said right before they got to the drop spot, a pickup truck hopped in front of them. Apparently, there was a shootout. While they were shooting at who was in the front, there was another car cutting the lock in the back. They threw some kind of substance in the back that put Rafeal nem to sleep. My assumption is that the commotion drew attention to them and that was why they didn’t get more, because by the time Rafeal nem woke up, police were on the way and there was a crowd.
A few people that were standing around were taking pounds out too, but they stopped when Rafeal started bussing. ”
“I want everyone that was on that truck at the warehouse. Now.”
“On it.”
After ending the call, I didn’t even bother calling Rhakeem back. I just sent him the numerical code via text that meant blood was about to be shed, and he told me he was on his way.