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"I looked into what you asked," the man sat in the office chair and gripped the files in the tan even manilla envelope in front of him. His button up slightly undone as sweat graced the rim. "Lots of Carter's all over the world, you know."
Julz sat undauntedly by his words, he didn't know what the fuck he was expecting. A miracle of ink and paper. Something, maybe a sign to show him where he had manifested from, to know who cultivated his existence. He needed to know that if he didn't at least originate from love he had someone out there that cared. His hand cursed through his low cut and fingers grazed his scalp with confusion.
The Koné agenda... Julz had let Mrs. Koné get in his fucking mind. All the reflecting and soft shit she had him doing led him here. He never felt incomplete until he tried to dig something that had long been fossilized. Julz had done enough to protect his heart, trying his best to mask the feeling of abandonment. He was no chump nigga, but even though he was buried underneath that stone-cold soul, he felt it.
"Atlanta. It seems to be the most common denominator in my research."
Julz's shoulders lifted a little as he studied the man. His face felt a tightening sensation, mimicking his heart. He felt the vibration of his phone in his Amiri jeans, but he was locked into the conversation right before him. Whoever it was he would hit them later.
"Does Atlanta sound familiar to you," he asked.
Julz's head shook, as he pondered in his mind some shit about Atlanta. No doubt he knocked plenty of bitches down in the A, but nothing of the South seemed familiar to him.
"Nah. Michigan born and raised."
The man's temple throbbed, and the stress was evident on his face. In all his years of private investigating, he had never not found one substantial piece of evidence for a case. He tried to keep his eyes low because he could feel Julz staring into his soul. The man before him wanted answers but he didn't know if what he had would suffice.
"Mr. Carter you know I told you people come in here with the expectation of miracles, and I can never guarantee."
Julz stared blankly at the man as the words slithered from his mouth. He wasn't feeling disappointed because he had already ready himself for this shit. Julz was the one where the word knew didn't mean much. The one God knew wouldn't measure up to his worth. Sniffling his nose he slid back from the chair, not bothering to hear the bullshit the man was spitting. It was never a case of miracles when he slid the nigga 5 g's. He chuckled at the thought.
"It's all good," Julz dismissed, walking to the door and gripping the knob.
The chair skidded back as the man rushed from his sitting position. The sound echoed through the small office as like instincts Julz cocked his head his way with his hand already trained on his gun. Aimed straight at the man's forehead. His face completely turned as he stared with fire in his eyes. The man's hands flew up as he physically shook. Julz looked around as paranoia rode his back before he seemed to relax and lower his gun. "Shit, my bad. All that quick-moving and jittery shit don't sit right with a nigga like me."
