THE PRESSURE
The streets started calling before sunrise.
AK barely slept after the funeral. He spent most of the night sitting alone on the balcony overlooking the Indian River while unanswered phones buzzed endlessly throughout Big K's condo.
Numbers from Miami. Op aloka.
Orlando. Mercy Drive .
Palm Bay. Compound.
Atlanta. Fi fth ward.
Even Texas. Fort Wort h and the few people who his father had been shipping drugs to for the last several years.
Everybody wanted answers now. How m uch would he sell the Kilograms for would he keep Big K's prices ?For th ones who got drugs on consignment would Ak continue the drops in honor of his fathers word?
Who running the organization? Is i t really you Ak do you need assistance in any form ?You know we are here for you whatever you need. Your father was our man,and all other kinds of lies to try to convince Ak that he should deal with them.
Who handling shipments? I know a few people who can help with that all you have to do is give me the word AK!
Who controls distribution? If you want I can contact my people in Titusville they already have a few vans with the drop boxes in them im sure he would want to work for you. And what about the security will you keep the same men or hire your own? Who is holding the money? You know you have to be careful out here Ak now that your father is gone everyone will come as wolves in but have the clothing of the lambs .The advice would come from everyone even the ones he knew to be enemies of his father. He would just them to talk and paid none of them any mind because at the end of the day he was Big K's son.And a long way from being gullible. His father taught him and his brother well.And if he didn't leave anything he left them the rules of the game,
The streets treated death like business transitions.
Nothing paused for grief.
By seven in the morning Munchy already stood in the kitchen drinking coffee while sorting through stacks of notebooks filled with coded numbers and payment records.
"This shit bigger than I thought," he muttered.
AK rubbed tired eyes while walking into the kitchen.
"What?"
" O ur daddy had movement everywhere."
AK stayed silent.
Deep down he already knew that.
Big K never explained the full scope of his operation publicly. Men like him survived through secrecy. Even the family only knew pieces.
Munchy flipped through another notebook.
"People owe hundreds of thousands."
AK opened the refrigerator absently staring inside without appetite.
"And we owe people too."
That part mattered most.
Because drug organizations operated on pressure and trust.
If money stopped moving...
violence usually followed.
AK grabbed a water bottle quietly while Munchy studied him carefully.
" Are you still thinking about backing away?"
AK leaned against the counter. While he took a long dr ink from his water and just stared at his sibling using them several seconds to gather his [ thoughts in ] that time the voice of Nadine popped back up being supported by the faint whisper he thought for a few more seconds before speaking
"I don't know what I'm thinking." he took another sip from the bottled water.
"That ain't good enough right now brother,we have a lot of responsibility now that pops gone"Munchy retorted as he looked at his older sibling