13. Deuce #2
Finally, she sat down slowly at the edge of the mattress.
Because she didn’t know what version of me, she was looking at anymore.
That gave me a fucked up feeling because I never wanted Alisha scared of me.
Before I could say anything else my phone started ringing and it was Rell.
He never called this late unless shit was serious. I answered quickly.
“What sup?”
“Need you at the office NOW!” Rell yelled into the phone.
“What happened?”
“One of the drivers got hit.”
“Fuck, how bad?” I asked.
“Bad bad.”
I closed my eyes briefly already feeling the headache building.
“What shipment?”
Then Rell yelled, “Skambino route.”
“You serious?”
“Yeah.”
“FUCK!”
That shipment alone was worth over a million dollars once it hit New York streets.
Military grade weapons, modified switches, Draco packages.
It was enough firepower to start a damn war.
The people waiting on that shipment wasn’t regular street niggas.
The Skambino Mob had cartel ties all through New York.
They were the type of people that didn’t accept mistakes and definitely didn’t tolerate excuses involving the Feds.
“I’m on my way.”
Alisha looked up at me from the bed cautiously. “What happened?”
“I gotta go handle something.”
“Of course you do,” she said bitterly.
I walked over toward her slowly. Despite everything that just happened seeing tears still sitting in her eyes made guilt crawl through my chest again.
“I’ll be back.”
She looked away. “I don’t care.”
I leaned down and kissed her forehead gently. “I love you.”
She didn’t answer, before leaving, I looked directly at her. “Don’t leave this house.”
Her eyes snapped toward mine. I knew I sounded too controlling again, but right then my entire life felt unstable. I couldn’t lose her too. The second I got in my truck I grabbed a blunt out of the glove compartment and rolled a blunt. I needed something to help with my damn nerves.
My wife trying to leave, Kim crashing out emotionally, the Feds circling closer every day. And now a million-dollar shipment was gone. Everything around me was collapsing at once.
I sped through Detroit streets toward the office.
This was exactly the type of shit that got people killed.
The Skambino Mob didn’t care about investigations or about federal pressure.
All they cared about was product and money and now they had lost both.
By the time I reached the warehouse office, Rell was already inside pacing.
The room smelled like weed smoke and stress with paperwork scattered across the desk.
The second I walked in, Rell looked up immediately. “They confiscated the whole damn truck.”
I slammed my keys against the desk frustrated. “How the fuck they even know the route?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Rell replied.
I started pacing because this shit didn’t make sense. We never used the same route twice and drivers rotated too. So how the fuck did police intercept the exact shipment carrying the Skambino order?
“Driver talking?” I asked.
Rell shook his head. “He lawyered up immediately.”
Which honestly meant nothing nowadays. Everybody folded eventually if enough pressure hit.
“You know what this means right?” Rell let me know.
“Yeah.” Somebody inside the operation was talking, because there was no other explanation.
Rell rubbed his hands over his face before finally looking directly at me. “I’m gone be honest.”
“What?”
“You should’ve been killed Kim ass.”
Part of me agreed. The second Kim revealed who her father was, I should’ve cut all ties immediately. I should've disappeared and handled it differently. But instead, I let emotions get involved lust, love whatever the fuck it was. Everything connected to her was poisoning my life slowly.
“She know too much now,” Rell continued.
“I know.”
“And her daddy FBI.”
“I KNOW!” I snapped louder than intended.
I rubbed my forehead frustrated.
“You can’t touch her,” Rell said.
“Nah that’s not even an option right now.”
Because if anything happened to Kim, Agent Brown would come down on me with everything the federal government had with no hesitation. That’s what scared me the most now. I stared at the floor for a second before looking back at Rell.
“I’m gone figure this shit out.”
I was one bad phone call away from crashing the fuck out completely.
Rell leaned against the desk rubbing his beard hard. “You better.”
“The fuck that mean?” I snapped.
“It means if this case turns federal for real we looking at football numbers.”
We both knew exactly what that meant. Twenty, thirty, forty years, niggas would disappear in prison forever. I grabbed the bottle off the desk taking a long swallow straight from it. The liquor burned all the way down my throat. Still ain’t calm shit.
“First thing first,” I said. “Cease all routes.”
Rell head snapped toward me. “The fuck?”
“You heard me.”
“Nigga that’s stopping our cash flow.” Rell implied.
I looked at him flatly. “And?”
“And our buyers ain’t gone fuck with us if we stop moving product.”
Rell was thinking like a hustler, and I needed him to think like a survivor.
“They really not gone fuck with us if they know the Feds on our ass,” I snapped.
Rell threw his hands up frustrated. “So, what we supposed to do? Sit around broke?”
“Ain’t nobody said broke.”
“You basically shutting the operation down.”
“Nah,” I corrected coldly. “I’m keeping niggas out of prison.”
Rell started pacing again, “You know how much money we losing every day routes stay down?”
“I know exactly how much.”
“And the cartel?”
The Skambino Mob wasn’t just regular buyers. Them niggas had real dangerous plugs. The type of people that skinned mules alive in Mexico for crossing them.
“They gone want answers,” Rell let me know.
“And they’ll get ‘em.”
“But what if they think we set them up?”
“That’s exactly why everything stops.”
Finally, he went quiet after that because deep down he knew I was right. The worst thing we could do right now was keep moving recklessly, trying to prove a point. That’s how niggas got indicted and ended up with a Rico case.
“Stop acting like I’m new to this shit,” I said.
Rell sighed heavily before finally nodding once. “Aight.”
But I could still see frustration written all over his face because money was addictive. Once niggas got used to touching millions slowing down felt impossible. I walked toward the window looking over the city. For some reason Detroit looked dark as hell tonight. My life felt the exact same way.
“You really think somebody talking?” Rell asked behind me.
I rubbed my jaw slowly thinking.
“Could be anybody at this point.”
Rell sat down heavily on the couch nearby. “You know what’s crazy?”
“What?”
“We used to pray for this type money.”
I laughed dryly. “Now look at us, million-dollar shipments, federal investigations, my personal life falling apart on top of all that. Money came with demons attached.”
My phone buzzed and it was Alisha. My mind still stayed on her and that look in her eyes earlier, the fear, anger and disappointment.
“You gone answer?” Rell asked.
I stared at the screen for a second before declining it. “Not right now, because honestly I didn’t even know what to say to her anymore.”
Rell watched me carefully. “You really love her huh?”
I looked at him like he asked something stupid.
“That’s my wife.”
“That’s why this Kim shit got messy,” he continued. “You were supposed to just hit and quit.”
I laughed. “Yeah, well that ain’t what happened.”
Instead, I got attached and comfortable. I Started living two lives and now both of them were collapsing at the same damn time. I sat down and finally exhaustion was starting to hit me now.
“You think Brown know everything?” Rell asked.
I thought about Agent Brown and how calculated he moved. That man scared me more than street niggas right now. Because street niggas reacted emotionally, feds reacted strategically.
“Nah,” I said finally. “Not yet but he getting close.”
The warehouse was quiet and me and Rell just sat there, both of us stuck inside our thoughts. For the first time since I started this life, I genuinely felt trapped. No matter which direction I turned, something waited there ready to destroy me.