Page 29 of Delirium 2

“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—”