Family Tithes

Jackboyz

"Just answer the question," I say.

"I will if you tell me why you wan' know so bad," Caesar says.

"I haven't talked to him in a while. Not since Tory died. Not foreal anyway. I just wanna' make sure he's okay," I say.

"Y'all close right? Why you can't just call him instead of tryna' find out through me?"

My eyes flicker over to the wall. Guilt penetrates my abdomen. I would be able to call if I wasn't "sleeping with the enemy" as Munch would call it. I mean, I'm not entirely sure Daz has washed his hands with me, but considering he didn't call to check on me after I left the funeral, I'm assuming he has.

It's just better to leave it up in the air for now. As long as I don't know where Daz stands then I can pretend I still have someone on my side.

I clear my throat.

"I would, but I'm not sure he would answer," I say.

Caesar eyes me. There's a question hanging in the air, but thankfully he doesn't ask it. He's gotten really good at respecting my boundaries ever since I got kidnapped. He still thinks my business is his business, but he don't try and force it out of me, which is more than I can say for most men in my life.

"It's always lil' shit with Daz. He prolly just wanna' know if he should move the money and the weight to a safehouse or The Loft. If he think hard enough, he can put his two brain cells together and figure it out without calling me," Caesar says.

I shake my head.

"Back up a minute. I thought the business didn't get started again until after New Year's," I say.

"It don't. The coke runners never really get a day off though. They the only ones Ace trusts to move the product and money besides us, so he taught them to sleep with their phones on 'em. Think of them like on-call doctors with trap phones instead of pagers. We never know when we might need them, so they gotta stay ready, like today," He says.

It all makes sense now. I could never understand why Daz was always on the move. Even when it seemed like everyone else got a chance to chill, he was always running off somewhere. He constantly checked his phone when we were all together like he had somewhere else he'd rather be. Sometimes it was a desperate side chick wanting his attention, but for the most part, it was work that kept him busy. Tory used to tease him about it saying he was waiting for his daddy to call. Daz never entertained him. He was usually gone before Munch and Tory could really set in on him anyway.

"Why Daz though? I mean, he ain't the only cokerunner y'all have, so why you asked him to do it?" I ask.

Caesar closes his eyes again.

"'Cause believe it or not, he the best one we got," He says.

Finally satisfied with my game of 21 questions, I lay back down on Caesar's chest. I throw my leg over his and cuddle up next to him. I close my eyes, ready to get some Z's when Caesar's phone starts ringing again.

"Ughhh, just answer him," I say.

Caesar reaches over to grab his phone from the nightstand. He glances at it before sitting it back down.

"It ain't me," He says.

I sit up.

"It's mine?" I ask.

I follow the sharp shrill of the ringtone to the bottom of the bed. I scoot to the edge of it where the sound gets louder. I peer over the side of it. Our clothes are piled together in a small heap on the floor. They were on the bed at first, but after switching positions one of us must have knocked them off. I sort through them, but by the time I spot my baby blue phone case, the call has already ended.