Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74450 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“Where’s your sandwich? Did Cookie Monster eat it?” Axel teased.
“I ate it upstairs. Lil’ man had a full diaper. Now he’s awake. You wanna chill wit’ daddy and Uncle Axel?” Legend grinned as he sat back down on the couch with the cute little infant swathed in a white blanket. “Axel, man, listen. I understand what you’re saying. I agree that Caspian is probably involved in some shit you wouldn’t approve of, but we gotta let him go about fulfilling his promise in his own way. I’m sure that ties into it some way if it’s not the root cause. I told him he needs to take care of this shit immediately. I’m going to keep saying it to him, keep my foot on his neck, but at the end of the day, Caspian doesn’t move when people try ’nd make him move. He moves when he’s proven wrong.”
Axel mulled over Legend’s words. Caspian was remarkably stubborn yet also reasonable. If someone could convince him his path was incorrect, he seemed to have no issue accepting that—as long as there was proof and another way to achieve his goals.
“That’s true about the promise to Mrs. Florence, but what about his extracurricular activities? Do you think I should say anything? Maybe we can help him. I’ll admit, some of my concerns are selfish. It’s just been great havin’ him back for longer than just a few days. It’s been like old times. If he gets caught doing whatever it is he’s doing, we both know Caspian isn’t going to take a prison bid lying down. He’s going to turn that place inside out, and his life will be ruined.”
Legend picked up his glass and swirled it while eying him with a mischievous grin.
“That ain’t none of our business. Just like it was none of my business what you had to do with Master, until you wanted me included. It wasn’t nobody’s business what I had to take care of here in Kentucky and out in Puerto Rico. Unless he wants to tell us or include us, we should stand back. We’ll know soon enough… just relax, man. I know you can’t help corralling me and Caspian when you think we’ve gotten out of control—you’ve always been a father figure in your mind—but remember our natures. One way or another, we always find out what the other is doing. He’s either going to tell us or we’ll stumble onto the truth.” He winked at him, then kissed his son’s forehead.
“The promise affects us all.”
“It does. That promise Caspian owes Mrs. Florence directly, we are all three in this though, waist deep. It affects all of us if he doesn’t hold his end of the bargain, but anything else outside the scope of that? Let the bodies hit the floor… let the bodies hit the floor… let the bodies hit the mothafuckin’ floor. Nothing wrong with me. Nothing wrong with you. Nothing wrong with Caspian. We are Grim Reapers in these Kentucky streets. We even playin’ fields like a mothafucka. Keep the scales level. We are wardens of the dark gates… keep that heard, seen and spoken evil in check. We are the Brother Disciples. Don’t fuck wit’ an angry country boy… Church.”
…Two weeks later
Caspian sat in the middle of the living room floor, the box from Aunt Angel before him. His level of frustration had reached an all-time high over the past few days. He’d pulled the records of his mother’s death but the constabulary notes were brief and didn’t shed much light. There’d been no autopsy, which didn’t surprise him, but the hasty way it was ruled a suicide was uncanny. His gut instinct had been right that no one, including family members, didn’t even seem to question this conclusion.
He also got his hands on her medical history. It paid to have contacts on the dark web that could get anything you needed from so-called secret fried chicken recipes to cocaine, hitmen, exotic animals, pills, and illegal weapons. Once he read over the report, he had confirmation that Mama had been in fact diagnosed with depression, but she’d been taking her medication, too. There was no toxicology report to show evidence of this, but there were receipts and lists of credit card payments for her prescription refills. They were purchased and picked up in a timely fashion.
He even vaguely recalled seeing her take one and her telling him it was ‘Mama’s happy pill.’ He’d somehow buried that memory until he went digging around. I’m going to take a break from this in a second… Wait a minute, I bet I can find her psychiatrist’s name… He looked around his living room, in a bit of a daze, feeling hot. Everything was pointing to mama offing herself—but he had to keep pushing. He patted his forehead, wiping off beads of sweat. He stared at his moist fingertips and shook his head.