His father reaches across the table to grip his shoulder. “I believe you’ll be just fine, David”. And here comes that look of ease in his eyes at his father’s approval.
“All right.” David wipes his mouth and drops the napkin in his plate. “I have to jet.” We rise after him. I offer my hand and he says, “I’ll call you about next week. I’m sorry to drag you out here for just ten minutes, but you being my boss in all, I’m sure you understand.”
“Indeed.”
“Call you tomorrow, Dad.” He turns to shake the senior David’s hand before being pulled into a bear hug.
“You bet, buddy,” Dave replies before David drops a few bills on the table, feeling proud no doubt, and heads for the door.
I’m no emotional man, but between Rayna and David, these last few months have made me appreciate and feel things a G should never be so affected by. It’s all good. My eyes go to the senior David—or Dave, as he urged me to use earlier. He gestures his head toward my chair for me to sit, and I oblige.
“Thanks for agreeing to this,” his voice strains as he takes to his chair. I guess that’s what an expecting-sized belly will do to you. “When he asked if I minded if you showed so that I could meet you, I took it as the perfect time for us to catch up.”
I nod just before taking a nip at my drink. He takes a deep breath, drawing limited air into his long and narrow nostrils, making a whizzing sound from the inhale. With hesitation, he continues, “This is hard…extremely difficult.” I offer another sympathetic nod, presuming he’s referencing observing a son, fighting addiction. Again, I’m moved by David’s road to recovery. “Never did I think I’d make an ambivalent call that I’m so sure of.” Dave’s eyes rise to mine and now I’m a little thrown. I can tell he senses it before he speaks again by the way his chin jerks in the air, mustering dignity.
“I’ve never respected a drug dealer, Divine,” Dave pauses tentatively.
I take the opportunity to correct him. “Azmir.” I nod again, not removing my gaze from him. I’m not sure where he’s going with this, but I do know that I will not tolerate insolence from One-Time, considering they are some of the most corrupt motherfuckers on the planet. I know this because I’ve employed dozens of them—legally and non-so. “And, Captain, contrary to what you might perceive, based upon our sole and purely legal and moral commerce, I am a businessman. One with varied resources.” I give him cutting eye action to be sure he understands that in spite of his law enforcement authority, my tail never folds between my fucking legs.
After a moment or two of him processing my verbal—and nonverbal—message, he continues, “When I called you last summer after learning that my only child was locked away in some drug house like a fucking meth slave…” Spit slings from his mouth as he speaks his memories of the David I found, strung out and hopeless. I can understand that was some shit that may still be difficult to swallow. “Well, we know what condition he was in.” Dave shakes his head, trying to free it of the despicable memories of that ordeal.
“I didn’t know about you,” he emphasizes the word and I comprehend that he’d only known me as a legendary character, not as a well-documented criminal who’s file you could easily pull for reference, because that I’ve never been. I’ve always laid low, always avoided arrests and serious investigations, until now. “I’d heard through microscopic whispers that you were a very resourceful “conduit” for unconventional matters.”
I want to clarify that I’m no snitch. I’ve never cooperated with law enforcement for legal matters. I’d always brought them over to my side when they needed extra bread and I needed to “enforce” my hustling agenda. I’ve also only worked directly with less than a handful of those fuckers, never wanting to get too acquainted with them. Theirs was a necessary association. It was a mutually beneficial exchange of powers.
“David is my only child.” Dave’s eyes shoot over to me, breaking my reverie. “I knew that my time on the force pushed my parenting to the back burner and I neglected him, but I’d be damned if I lost him to the fucking streets that I spent a career protecting.” Dave’s face turns a shade of burgundy. I sit back, placid, giving him my undivided attention.
“I was so damn desperate when I made the call for your help. Damn it, it was either my career or my son’s life! For once, I chose him. It seemed fair.” Dave’s glazed eyes meet mine. “Without question or an in-kind request, you agreed to get my child out of there, even if by an inch of his life. I will be indebted to you far beyond my pension’s depletion.”