by Tya Marie
“Are you being treated right? Burna’s been lining pockets to make sure nobody fucks with you,” I reminded her as I drummed my fingers on the metal table. “You look like you been eating good too.”
Nita rolled her eyes. “That’s all there is to do in here. Eat, read, and run the track. We don’t get a gym like the men, so I have to rely on squats to keep my ass sitting.”
“And it is,” I said, leaning to the side to get a good look at the very ass that caught my eye right after Nita’s face did. She rolled her eyes at my blatant ogling, but I knew she was enjoying it. No woman wanted to think her man wasn’t attracted to her after she did time. “Nita, you know I love you, right?”
“Peace…”
“Nita, answer me?”
Her eyes grew shiny. “Peace, the last time you asked me that question you asked me to do some grimy shit. What is it now?”
“I came here to tell you before that nosy ass sister of yours did.” I paused. “There’s someone that has come into my life who has a lot to offer. She’s smart, she’s powerful, and with her resources I can pull strings to make sure you get out of here.”
Nita placed her head into her hands, shaking it so hard her ponytail resembled a whip. Guilt coursed through me; it wasn’t my intention to hurt her, but right now I was trying to secure a future for the both of us. After another minute of hiding her face, she emerged, wiping away tears. “I can’t believe I thought you would change, Dreaux. I’m in fucking prison, on trial for drug trafficking with the intent to distribute, and you’re already planning a new life with the next bitch!”
“It could be worse; you could be in here for trafficking and the murder rap I took for you,” I replied through gritted teeth. “I know you killed Senny, Nita.”
“I did what had to be done!”
“No, you did what you always do—destroy anything you feel is coming between the two of us. I had Sentena under control, she wouldn’t have said a word, and you murdered her!” I whispered the last part.
It was Nita’s turn to show her true colors. “You keep telling yourself that, Dreaux. But that’s not the truth. What really happened was your precious little Senny was pregnant. She was turning state’s witness not so she could lock you up, but so she could take me and the rest of the team out of the equation. Sneaky bitch.” Her face frowned up as if she smelled shit. “What’s the name of this one? Tell me before I start asking around, and I won’t do so quietly.”
“Kelsey. Kelsey Mackenzie.”
Nita’s brows furrowed. “Mackenzie…didn’t you work for someone with the name Mackenzie? That fine ass nigga Urban…”
Hearing Nita refer to Urban as being “fine” didn’t sit well with me. “His daughter. She’s taken over for him. I got her wide open, Nita. All it’s going to take is a few moves, and she’ll be mine.”
“What does that have to do with me? You came here for my blessing or something?”
“No,” I said, grabbing her hand, giving it a squeeze while the guards were busy looking elsewhere. “I came here to make sure you stuck to the script. We hid it well, but at some point in time us being married will get out. If she ever comes to visit, I need you to tell her that we’re no longer in love, that we broke up after you found out I had a mistress.”
Nita cocked a brow. “You must plan on laying down some platinum pipe for her to still be fucking with you after finding out some shit like that.”
“I can be very persuasive, Nita. You know that,” I replied with a smile. “Besides, she’s at the age where all I gotta do is feed her some game, tell her I love her, and she’ll stay. I’m a catch.”
“And what about her father? I’ve met Urban before; you think he’s going to let you be in a relationship with his daughter?”
I wagged my finger at her. “Urban is all about respect. That old school charm. Why wouldn’t he want one of his most faithful soldiers to be with his only daughter?”
“That ain’t you.”
“Yet,” I said, straightening my suit jacket. “Baby, have you forgotten who you’re talking to? The same way I create peace is the same way I can manufacture chaos.”
“What are you going to do?” Nita asked, rolling her eyes. “Create some beef? Kill his right hand and take their place? Hmm…how much lower will you go Dreaux?”
“That’s young nigga shit. What I’m going to do is more complex.” I had been working on the plan on the drive, and I knew what my next move was. “I’m going to destroy The Trust and rebuild it in my image. New York is going to be mine.”
“And Kelsey?”
I laughed. “What about her?”
8
Drea
I held on to Legacy for my life, cradling my face in the bundle of blankets holding him as he screamed at the top of his lungs. He had been diagnosed with colic, and over the past few weeks he screamed at the top of his lungs throughout the night. Proceeding my outburst at the hospital two weeks ago, Quill was home five nights of the week. I had a feeling it had less to do with the baby and more to do with his girlfriend ditching us at the hospital. I tried explaining to him that it wasn’t personal—I wouldn’t sit at the hospital with no other nigga and his baby mother my damn self—but his mind was elsewhere. He would come in most nights after a long day of working, and head straight to his room, not coming out until it was time for our shift change. I took care of my fussy baby all day while Quill handled him at night, giving me the time to take up some extracurricular activities of my own.
“Please, stop crying,” I said into his belly, rocking myself as I tried to drown out his wailing. “Legacy, baby, please cut it out!”
As if by magic, Legacy calmed down, falling into a fitful sleep. The colic water I had given him must’ve kicked in. None of the remedies Quill showed me on the internet helped except for the water. However, I knew to use it sparingly and in cases of emergency. Like tonight.
“Behave while Mommy gets ready for her date,” I whispered, placing him in the center of my bed, lying him on his back like doctors recommended.
While Legacy slept, I took an exfoliating shower, making sure to slough off every inch of my week, shaved my legs, touched up my Brazilian wax, and slathered my body in this whipped body butter I ordered from my homegirl who started her own skincare company. I was fully dressed, admiring myself in the mirror when there was a knock at the door. Quill stood there, freshly showered, water from his hair rolling down the side of his face. He peered over my head at Legacy.
“You might as well leave him there while I’m out. Take this time to get some rest,” I said, grabbing my purse and jacket from my chair. “There’s milk in the fridge and formula to fill him up in between. I’ll be back in a few hours.”
“Have fun,” Quill replied, his eyes still on the sleeping baby.
I sighed, opening my door wider for him to enter, and closed it behind him. The last thing I wanted was someone depressed watching my child. Quill climbed into bed with Legacy, placing his phone on his chest and closing his eyes. My phone vibrated with a text from my date, who was waiting for me downstairs.
“What’s the matter with you, William?” I inquired.
Quill popped an eye open. “Drea, you don’t give a fuck.”
“I didn’t ask to give a fuck, I asked to give a hand. Now spit it out in the next…two minutes,” I said, taking my phone out of my purse and shooting him a “waiting on the elevator” text.
“Kelsey hasn’t been herself lately. Ever since the hospital she’s been pulling back from me. We still see each other, but I feel a wall going up. I think seeing you and Legacy made my situation real.”
“Good,” I replied. “That means she isn’t a bum bitch. I know she went through some shit, but that doesn’t mean you get to shirk your responsibilities. Regardless of what’s going on between the two of us, you still owe time to him. He’s not the one who trapped you, he had nothing to do with the agreements you made with my father. Don’t abandon him for a better life.”
&nbs
p; Quill’s other eye popped open. He sat up, digesting my words for a full minute. Buzz. Shit, I thought, ignoring the message. I opened the door, ready to make a break for it, and was called back by Quill.
“What do I do?”
I shrugged. “What the hell does any nigga do when he has a kid and girlfriend?”
“You mean—”
“I don’t know what the fuck I mean, Quill. Just put a damn smile on your face because it’s bringing me down,” I said, rushing out of the room before he could say something stupid like thanking me for giving him permission to take my son around his girlfriend.
Truth be told, I wasn’t feeling Kelsey or the way she had Quill defying my father. After the meeting Quill had where he dropped those heads on the desk I was fuming, ready to end that bitch for fucking with the Winthrop Family. I had put together a team of my father’s best hittas to stake out her place, waiting for the perfect time to shoot her up. They were ready to go, I was going to have my first successful takedown, and the most embarrassing thing I could think of happened.
“Nah, scratch that shit. We’ll take care of her when I say so,” Bull said to the team.
I tried to hide my disappointment, but with everyone staring at me, waiting for me to say something, I knew I had to speak up for myself. “I gave my word to my father that I would take care of this. You’re not a Winthrop, Bull. This is my last name that was disrespected. Like I said, I want all of you to stake her place out, and when you see her, handle her.”
“You heard her,” Bull replied. “Head out to the car. I’ll be there in a minute.”
The warehouse door closed with a resounding thud. We chose to meet here because I wanted to see where product was being held. My father kept me from the many facets of his operation, and being given this opportunity was like opening a door that had otherwise been closed my entire life. If today was successful, I could see myself running shit beside Bull and not through him. The picture was clear in my head, burning bright, and was slapped out of me in an instant. I hit the floor with a crack, screaming at the feeling of my ribs meeting concrete. Bull crouched over me, nostrils flaring, his eyes so wide all I saw were the whites.
“How long we been together, Drea?” Bull asked, his tone the exact opposite of his demeanor.
Blood mixed with saliva pooling in my mouth I swallowed it, and replied, “Bull—”
“I ain’t ask what my name was. I said how long I been fucking with you?”
“Two years.”
He grabbed my chin between his two fingers, yanking my face to meet his. “You got my seed, right?”
“Yes.”
“You think any of these other weak ass bum bitches can say the same? You didn’t choose me, Drea. I’m the one who saw something in you that your father never will. He might let you play around with killing Kelsey, but at the end of the day he wants a man to handle it,” Bull said through gritted teeth. “Stick to shopping and taking care of my son; that’s how you contribute to what I’m building. When I’m ready for you to do more, you will.”
“And what if I don’t want that?”
Bull lowered his face close to mine. Our lips brushed as he replied, “I find another bitch to play mother to my child.”
I had taken a lot of shit from Bull in the name of love. He knew how to play to my emotions, my frustrations with being the only girl and my father’s youngest child, always encouraging me to go for more. It was his idea to trap Quill; he even planned to pull the trigger in the end. Throughout this entire process he treated me as his equal, until now. Foolish of me to think any of these niggas could ever be real. Too bad for Bull I wasn’t one to take such disrespect lightly. There was a new man in my life, one who valued what I brought to the table, and promised to make sure I got everything I deserved.
“You look stunning,” Justice Mathews said, holding open the door to his Cadillac CTS-V with one hand, and extending the other for me to climb in.
We shared a kiss before he sped off into the night. I studied Justice’s profile, gazing at how the streetlights hit the corners of his sharp jaw. He was Morehouse fine, with a bachelor’s in political science, a master’s in economics, and a slew of other graduate degrees he liked to rattle off whenever we were discussing worldly topics. I never knew I could be the type of bitch to like sitting around talking politics with someone over wine, but Justice made me feel smart. I even started reading the newspaper in order to find new topics to impress him with. He was perfect in every way imaginable, and if not for the life I lived, I could see myself settling down with him.
Too bad he was an assistant United States attorney.
__________
Justice Matthews was an outlier. I had dated every kind of hood nigga you could think of—scammers, corner boys, lieutenants—none of which ever treated me the way the straight-laced Justice did. We bumped into one another through a chance encounter at the grocery store. Legacy was giving me a hard time as usual, causing me to have a meltdown in the middle of the aisle. I was ready to end it all right in the middle of aisle eight when Justice came through with that calm voice and cool demeanor of his. Truth be told, it wasn’t his soothing voice that got me off the floor; I didn’t want to lose out on the opportunity to fuck with someone this fine because my baby wouldn’t be quiet. As it turns out, Justice was a single father himself, and provided me with plenty of advice for taking care of a newborn. I was playing around when I asked if I could get his personal number if I had any additional questions, but he gave it to me. Soon innocent texts about child rearing turned to personal exchanges. Then we started meeting at the park for some private time together. As far as Justice was concerned, I was in an unhappy relationship for the sake of my son, which wasn’t far from the truth. Now I had to start planting the seeds to my plan.
“Did you have trouble putting the baby down?” Justice asked, placing a comforting hand on my knee.
I pretended to feel uneasy. “Legacy is doing fine. It’s my man who was having an issue with me wanting to go out and enjoy myself for once. I left my entire family behind to come up here with him, and he can’t even take me out on the town to have a good time. There isn’t a sense of community around here like there is back at home.”
That part I wasn’t lying about; Quill refused to let me step foot on his old block because it was where Kelsey’s family lived, and heaven forbid he disrespect her. I couldn’t step foot in anyone else’s hood looking for a friend because as a reformed shiesty bitch, I knew how these hoes got down. Going to the club was a dub as well, which left me sitting at home with Legacy and reality television as my main sources of entertainment. I vented my issues to Justice the last time we met at the park, and he was kind enough to offer me a night out. The last time I was this excited to go out it was after my brother’s funeral. My girls showed me a good time that night, and I hoped Justice could do the same.
“I can’t tell you the last time I’ve been to a nightclub,” he said as we pulled up in front of a Manhattan nightclub named Onyx. “This is one of the best in the city. Came highly recommended by my colleagues.”
I wish he would’ve kept that part to himself. What some uptight prosecutors would know about having a good time was beyond me. More likely than not, the place was ran up to code, and there was probably a sting going down. Disappointment tinged my cheeks as Justice helped me out of the car, handing his keys over to the valet and escorting me to the door. The gatekeeper of the club, a woman who stood at an even five feet on a good day, skimmed her list for Justice’s name. Her entire demeanor changed as she found it, alerting him that his section was stocked and ready.
“Damn,” I said over the loud music.
Onyx made me take back everything I thought about the shallow New York City club scene. From the aerialists performing complicated acrobatics on hoops thirty feet in the air to the DJ spinning the latest songs, I was impressed. The clubs back home could fill the VIP section of Onyx and it would still have room to spare. The atmosphere was differ
ent, more expensive, and for the first time in my life I was the best dressed bitch in the room, but I had some steep competition by the way of models, it girls, and socialites. Justice guided me through the club with a possessive hand on my waist, keeping the ballers from trying to lay a claim on me. I couldn’t think of the last time a man treated me in such a manner.
“I hope you like Dom Perignon,” Justice said as we approached our section, a cozy nook on the far side of the room away from the dancefloor. “If you want I can have it swapped out for Moet or—”
“No, Dom P is fine with me,” I replied, taking a seat and crossing my legs.
Justice took it upon himself to pop the bottle and pour us each a flute of champagne. Wow. There were men who still used glasses at the club instead of passing around a bottle the same way they passed around these thirsty ass thots. The comparisons continued as I sipped on my champagne, dancing in my seat as I watched everyone have a good time.
“Would you like to dance?” Justice asked over the din.
My head snapped him so fast I knew I would feel that crick in a few days’ time. “Do what?”
“I see you dancing in your seat. I thought you might like to share one on the dancefloor?”
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. “I come to the club to look cute, do a little two-step on the way to the bathroom, and post some pictures on Snap. Dancing is for old folks. No offense.”
Justice cracked up laughing. “I’m only forty-six. Besides, back in my day, we had a lot more fun at the club than you young kids. Since there was no Snap, you showed up to have a good time. All the ladies had their hair done, but they also weren’t afraid to sweat out their relaxer. And forget about a fashion show; of course you looked good showing up. However, you didn’t give a fuck how you looked leaving.”
Whenever my daddy would talk about the old days I’d roll my eyes; without technology, life sounded horrendous. I couldn’t imagine what life must’ve been like waiting for your favorite song to come on the radio so you could record it on a cassette tape. They held on to their nostalgia tight, and I guess it wouldn’t be so bad to step further out of my character.