Page 6 of Delirium 2

“Nah, I don’t have it layin’ around. Fuck you think I am? Lebron James, bitch?” I cut in, wearing a smirk.

I had it.

I had a couple M’s sitting in a couple of accounts.

He sucked his teeth and mumbled, “I thought you niggas was gettin’ pape.” Pausing, he said, “Aight, fuck it. If I don’t get the deposit from you by then, I’m cuttin’ the bitch pinky finger off.”

“Heard,” I said before hanging up.

Sitting the phone on the table, I looked over at Zeke who shook his head, wearing a smile. He pulled from the blunt and said, “Rest in peace to that man.”

I nodded and ran my hand down my black joggers, thinking about the sound of fear in Jada’s voice. That shit was unsettling, for real. Regardless of how unsettling it was, I was pissed at her for moving around the way she’d been moving around. Which was why I had zero urgency when it came to picking her ass up. I could have moved in on pussy ‘nem last night. Had the lo then. But I said, nah, I’m going to make her hardheaded ass sit.

Kiss returned to the living room stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “Calvin said he gon’ get up with me in about—” His phone chimed, cutting him off. Fishing it from his pocket, his brows raised. “Shit, this him right here. Damn that nigga move fast. The fuck he be doin? Sittin’ at the computer all day, every day?”

“Probably,” Zeke said with a snort. “You know that nigga ain’t gettin’ no pussy. Ain’t got no motion.”

I didn’t say anything. Waited for Kiss to send me what Calvin sent over. A minute later, my phone chimed with the forwarded message from him. I picked the phone up and clicked on the enclosed file he sent over, smirking at Stubb’s addy. 4586 Petersburg Brickhaven, MI. Same spot they’d been at a few times. I was right. I sucked my teeth, shaking my head. Niggas couldn’t send me a challenge? This was too easy.

I scanned the rest of the file, taking notice to who Stubb’s was connected to. His family. With a squint, I stared at the name ‘British Stubbs’. The name British stood out to me. I sat back against the couch and scanned my memories for the name. I wasn’t good with them. Not for real. Couldn’t really put a name to a face and this one… there wasn’t a face connected to it. The name just rung a bell.

“Who the fuck is British?” I mumbled, tugging on my beard, staring at the name.

Zeke said, “Shit, I don’t know. Probably⁠—

“Caught it,” I said, once the memory hit me.

British was the bitch Jada mentioned. Shorty who’d been talking crazy in the comments on TikTok.

* * *

Hours later, I was walking through the church doors. We were at Greater Faith. When I walked in, I was greeted by Solomon and his ushers. Solo extended his hand for a dap, and we did the same handshake I’d done with Kiss and Zeke earlier. His ushers chucked their chins and walked away.

Standing at the front of the church, I put my eyes on the Jesus statue sitting behind the podium. With a deep breath, I looked away from it and made eye contact with Solo.

“What’s going on? Niggas in my basement trying to burn one. I was really close to putting Shawn out. No lie,” Solo said, wearing a frown.

I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my joggers. “The less you know, the better. Just know, we’ll be out of here in about twenty, thirty minutes. I’ll talk to them about the smoke.”

Solo wasn’t a part of what I had going on. He lived his life on the straight and narrow. Well, for the most part. My business was intertwined with his. I used the church's name for transport across the globe. Greater Faith wasn’t only stationed in Brickhaven. We had a few scattered around the US. The one in Detroit was larger than this one, generating most of our business. Then there was Atlanta, Florida, Texas and New York. The congregations at each church were of a substantial size. Not only did I use the church vans to transport, we had two private jets, and a fleet of buses as well. Solomon was the face of the church, while we did shit on the backend. He was well respected all over the country too, which kept us out of the radar.

It was crazy, doing illegal shit under the guise of a church, but it worked. Solomon hated it but a big chunk of the money I made went into the church’s. I paid tithes and made sure to give him whatever he needed to grow. He was working on opening a church in Chicago, which we knew would do crazy numbers. It wasn’t about the money for Solomon though. I had to put in work. Whenever he asked me to participate in something, I had to say yes. Last month he had me in Texas, volunteering at a homeless shelter. I didn’t trip. It was a small cost to pay for a large reward. Plus, I fucked with Big G the long way—I was cool with it.

After chopping it up with Solo for a couple minutes, me, Zeke and Kiss headed to the church’s basement where we could hear a lot of chatter coming from. When I walked into the conference room, conversation ceased and all eyes landed on us.

“Big Dawg,” said Shawn, greeting me with a head nod. “What up cuz?”

Shawn was blood. The only person in my family I got down on this business shit with. There were a couple cousins linked to the church, but she was the only one involved on this side of things. She was reliable as hell and always ready to up sticks whenever for whatever. Loyalty wasn’t just tatted on her—it was literally embedded. When I sat down for those two years, she got shit moving with the bros.

I nodded. “What up. You tryin’ to spark up in the Lord’s house?” I asked wearing a smirk. “Don’t forget where you at, foolie.”

She ran her hands down her face. “On everything I forgot.”

“Don’t forget again,” I seriously said before taking my seat at the head of the massive conference table.

Kiss sat in the seat to the right of me.

Zeke to the left.