by J-Blunt
“T-a-y-m-a-r M-i-t-c-h-e-l-l.”
“I don’t see anyone under that name. Does she have an alias?”
“I don’t know. She came in with another woman. They said it was a car accident and shooting. I talked to somebody on the phone, and they said I had to come identify her in person.”
The woman’s face lit up. “Oh, I remember talking to you. The GSW victim came in with the car accident victim two days ago. We didn’t’ know the shooting victim’s name.”
“Is she okay?” Tanya asked, feeling hopeful.
“It doesn’t say. I’m going to call upstairs and they should be down to talk to you in a moment. Can I get your name?”
“Tanya Manners.”
“Okay, Tanya. If you have a seat in the waiting room, someone will come get you.”
As soon as Tanya sat down, she called Princess. “Hey, cousin! I’m here, but they told me to wait in the waiting room.”
“What happened? Is Queenie still alive?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m waitin’ for somebody to come talk to me. The receptionist won’t say. But she called upstairs. As soon as I know somethin’, I’ma call you.”
“Okay. Does anything look suspicious? You okay?”
Tanya glanced around to see if anything looked out of the ordinary. “Not that I can tell. But I’m scared as hell, and I don’t even know why.”
“You good. We don’t got no enemies. We just worried about the police.”
“Yeah. I know. But I’m still nervous. How is my baby?”
“She’s good. Right here watchin’ cartoons.”
“Okay. I’m about to text Ricco and let him know I landed safely. I’ma call you as soon as I talk to somebody.”
After hanging up the phone, she sent her man a text. She was reading his reply when something caught her eye. Two white men wearing dark suits walked into the hospital. They went over to the receptionist and said a few words, then the woman pointed at Tanya. She knew they were the police, and she was in trouble. She thought about running, but her feet wouldn’t work. Visions of Yanna and Ricco flashed in her mind.
“Are you Tanya Manners?” the taller man asked.
“Y-yes.”
“I’m Detective Renner, and this is my partner. We want to ask you some questions. Can you come with us?”
Chapter 3
“How long you wanna stay in Jacksonville?”
“Pop looked up from his phone, locking eyes with Princess. She was sitting on the couch with Yanna watching cartoons. “I’m thinkin’ we should stay. We can use what Ricco and Tanya know about the city to our advantage. It’s better than going somewhere we don’t know nobody and trynna establish new relationships. Plus, Tanya already showed she willin’ to make moves if the price is right.”
“Stay outta my head, nigga,” Princess smiled. “I was thinkin’ the same shit. Plus, it’s somethin’ ‘bout that nigga, Ricco. He got secrets.”
“Understatement. I looked in that nigga good eye and seen somethin’. He told me he drove a Lambo before. It’s somethin’ to this nigga, and I think he might be the key to us turnin’ up.”
“So, what we gon’ do wit’ the money we left in Atlanta? Do we leave it and use what we got to get started?”
I don’t think we got a choice. I left the license that I used to get that safety deposit box back at the house. Twelve got that. But I still got the key.”
“Can’t we just get another license in that name? We can’t just leave all that money and not try to find it.”
“I’ma try to go back and get it. Trust me. But for now, we gotta use what we got. I think this more than enough to put us on. We just find the right niggas to help us flip this shit. And get a plug.”
“So, we back to Ricco.”
Pop Something nodded. “Back to Ricco. And Tanya, too. She still ain’t called back yet?”
Princess checked her phone. “Nah. Somethin’ don’t seem right. She shoulda texted me back by now. It’s been over an hour.”
“I don’t like that shit. Damn.”
The phone started ringing in her hand. “This her!” Princess screamed, answering the phone on speaker. “Girl, where you been? You okay?”
“I just left the police station. I’m on my way to the airport. “
“The police station?” Pop and Princess said simultaneously.
“Yeah. They questioned me about Queenie. I think she still alive.”
“My sister alive?” Princess screamed.
“Yeah. I think. But she missing.”
Some of the excitement in Princess’ voice vanished. “What? She missin’? How?”
“They don’t know. The doctors did surgery as soon as she got to the hospital and she was bein’ guarded ‘cause the police wanted to talk to her when she woke up. They had security outside her door. But somehow she missin’.”
Princess was stunned and unable to speak.
“Did they say anything about us or how she got shot?” Pop asked.
“Yeah. They showed pictures of you and Princess. They didn’t say y’all did anything, but they wanna talk. I told ‘em I didn’t know you, but I don’t think they believed me.”
“Damn!” Pop cursed. “A’ight. Good lookin’ for doin’ this for us. Come back home.”
After hanging up the phone, Princess stared over at Pop. “I gotta find my sister.”
“You heard what Tanya said. Twelve lookin’ for us. We can’t go back to Atlanta.”
Princess stood and began pacing the living room. “But she still alive! What if somebody kidnapped her? We don’t know nobody in Atlanta that would try to help her. Ain’t nobody called us. She might be in trouble.”
“We can’t go back to Atlanta,” Pop repeated, finality in his voice. “If we get locked up, we won’t be able to help her at all. Only thing we can do is sit back and wait ‘til we hear somethin’ or she get at us. Let’s just focus on her bein’ alive. That’s good news.”
Princess flopped down on the couch, letting out a deep sigh. “Damn, Pop. This don’t make sense. I want my sister.”
“We gon’ get to the bottom of this. That’s my word. But right now we gotta focus on the shit we can control. Like seein’ if we can getcho cousin and Ricco to join the team.”
***
The revving of the twin turbo engine made the people standing outside Pole Boulevard look toward the parking lot. The black Lamborghini coasted through the lot, getting admiring stares from the strip club patrons. Pop and Princess stepped from the sleek automobile with the air of Jay-Z and Beyoncé, both dressed in Valentino. The newest Jacksonville residents soaked up the spotlight as they walked toward the club entrance.
After parking Pop Somethin’s rented Lexus CUV behind the Batmobile, Ricco and his girl followed Pop and Princess, enjoying the envious looks they got from the people standing in line. Ricco was dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a blazer. Tanya stole the show, wearing a white Marc Jacobs dress. Standing five-five with dark skin and crazy curves, the skin-tight white dress made her body look like it had been molded by the hands of God.
After stopping to have a brief conversation with security, the foursome was allowed into the club. To be in Pole Boulevard on opening night was something special. To be in Pole Boulevard’s VIP on the grand opening was extraordinary.
The club was owned and operated by Kevin ‘KV’ Childress, a big time drug-dealer-turned-business-man from Miami. Everybody who was somebody was in Pole Boulevard. Rappers, singers, movie stars, athletes, and Pop, Princess, Tanya, and Ricco.
“Oh my God! This feels so unreal!” Tanya fangirled out, looking around the club in awe. “Is that Block Boy? I know all his songs!”
“Chill, baby. Don’t fan out. We gotta act like we been in places like this before,” Ricco said coolly, adjusting his Prada shades.
“But I never been in a place like this before. I don’t know how I should act,” Tanya admitted. “Is that Simone Renae? Can I ask for a selfie?”
“Not rig
ht now. We gon’ be here awhile. Let’s find our booth first. We gon’ have time to meet and party wit’ er’body.”
When they found their booth, a fine and thick bottle girl approached. “Hey! Welcome to Pole Boulevard. I’m Bunny. Can I get y’all some drinks?”
“I’m good,” Pop answered. “What y’all want to drink? It’s on me.”
“I don’t drink,” Ricco said.
“Just give us two bottle of Vanilla Ciroc,” Princess said.
Pop gave the bottle girl more than enough money to pay for the drinks and a nice tip. When the strippers came over and the drinks began flowing, a good time was had by all.
An hour later the women retreated to the rest room. “Damn, cousin. It feels good gettin’ dressed up and goin’ out wit’ y’all. To be in VIP in here is some baller shit. How y’all do it?” Tanya asked as she stood at the sink, washing her hands.
“Pop did this. We just got to the city, so we don’t know nothin’ ‘bout the hot spots. Ricco prolly told him ‘bout it.”
“My mystery man, huh?” Tanya commented.
“What happened to his eye?” Princess asked.
“He won’t talk about it. I used to ask him about it a lot when we first met. He never told me, so I just learned to live with him and his secrets. It’s been two years now.”
“Speaking of secrets, I need a favor. You can’t tell nobody. Not Ricco, and especially not Pop Somethin’.”
Tanya looked anxious to know. “What is it?”
“Chill, gurl. It ain’t that serious. I need Red Dot number. I need some pills, and I don’t want nobody to know about it.”
“Okay. I’ma text him right now.”
While Tanya texted, Princess checked her dreads and clothes in the mirror. “Damn, cousin. You wearin’ the fuck outta that Marc Jacobs.”
“I feel like a model wearin’ this shit,” Tanya blushed. “I feel good. And pretty. I don’t know how I’ma pay you the five hundred dollars for this.”
“Don’t even worry about it. We told y’all er’thang on us. And we thinkin’ ‘bout stayin’, so it might get better.”
That got Tanya’s attention. “Y’all stayin’?”
“We thinkin’ ‘bout it. We really don’t got nowhere else to go. Plus, you here. But we need to make a new plug, so that’s kinda weighin’ on us.”
“What you mean, ‘a new plug’?”
Princess met her cousin’s stare. “Tanya, we get money. Not little shit. Hundred thousands. We thinkin’ ‘bout settin’ up shop here. And to do that we need people that know they way around. And a dope plug. If you and Ricco help us, y’all can live like this er’ night.”
The gleam in Tanya’s eyes told that she was ready and willing. “I’ma talk to Ricco ‘bout it. I’m tired of struggling. If y’all can give away money just to have a good time, we need to hook up.”
***
“How long y’all gon’ be in Jacksonville?” Ricco asked as he and Pop watched the Puerto Rican stripper put on a show.
“We thinkin’ ‘bout stayin’. So far I’m likin’ the city’s vibe.”
“Yeah. It’s always crackin’ ‘round here. Shit, all over Florida, really. I thought about movin’ to a new state a few years ago, but I couldn’t leave the Sunshine State.
Pop threw a few dollars at the stripper. “Yeah, I’m feelin’ the same way. You been in Jacksonville all yo’ life?”
“Nah. I grew up in Miami. I came here a couple years ago. Met Tanya and made a family.”
“What made you leave Miami?”
Ricco gave Pop Somethin’ a look. “Why you so interested in me? You ask a lotta questions.”
Pop leaned forward. “I’ma keep it a hunnit witchu, brah. It’s somethin’ ‘bout you that got me wantin’ to fuck witchu the long way. You got a street’ nigga vibe, and I relate to that shit. I see you nine-to-fivin’, and I know that shit a front. I peeped how you movin’ in here tonight. You used to this. These niggas wit’ money don’t impress you. You rubbed shoulders wit’ these kinda niggas before. You drove Lambos. I see you, brah.”
Ricco was silent for a moment, but the look in his eye told the truth. “What you on, brah? You blew a bag on me and my lady. I know this ain’t y’all just showin’ us a good time. You ain’t the only one that can see past what’s in front of you. I see you, too.”
“I see a street nigga in you, and I respect yo’ slot,” Pop acknowledged. “I’m trynna get a bag, my nigga. Like the one Santa Claus carry the toys in. But my shit gon’ be filled wit’ blue cheese. You know the ins and outs of the city. I need to know what you know. I get money, my dude. Let’s get to it and getcho family out them ratchet-ass apartments. Upgrade that Ford Fusion into somethin’ foreign.”
A tormented look shown on Ricco’s face, like his soul was being pulled in two directions. “I’m done wit’ that life. It cost too much.”
Pop studied his face, seeing the internal struggle. “Yo’ mouth say one thing, but the look on yo’ face say somethin’ else. You tired of cleanin’ toilets. You want this shit back. Whatever happened in Miami was fucked up, but that’s life. Good and bad. Sunshine and rain. You gon’ encounter defeats, but you can’t let that shit beat you. Get back on the bike and ride that bitch ‘til the wheels fall off.”
Ricco let out a chuckle. “You shoulda been a motivational speaker, my nigga. That spiel was good, but I’ma pass. Here come my lady. I don’t want her to know what we was talkin’ ‘bout, so let’s change lanes. My Jacksonville Jaguars goin’ to the Super Bowl this year.”
***
“Damn, Pop, I can’t feel my legs.” Princess laughed as she held onto Pop Somethin’s arm.
“In the mornin’ we gon’ see how much of yo’ body you feel when that hangover kick in. I think you outdid yo’self. You and Tanya,” he said, looking at Ricco helping Tanya into the rented Lexus.
“That’s my bitch! She a bad bitch and don’t even know it. And she know how to turn up! Turn up! Turn up! Turn up!” Princess yelled, losing her balance.
Pop grabbed his lady roughly to stop her from falling. “C’mon, girl! Chill ‘fore you bust yo’ shit.”
“Oh! I love when you get aggressive! Come fuck me on the hood of the Lambo so er’body can see.”
“Stop playin’ and get in the car.”
Princess dropped to her knees. “Pull out yo’ dick. I wanna suck it right now.”
Pop got irritated. “Quit playin’ and getcho–”
“Pop, look out!” Ricco called, panic in his voice.
The big man spun around just in time to see two niggas in dark clothes running toward him holding automatic weapons. The 50 was locked in the Lambo, and because of Princess’ drunken antics he never got the chance to unlock the door. All he could do was watch as pistols were pointed at his chest.
“Gimme dem keys, nigga!” the lead jacker yelled.
“Fuck!” Pop cursed, pissed off that he had been caught slipping.
When Princess realized what was going on, she stood to face the jackers. “Fuck y’all doin’?” Y’all know who we is? Move around ‘fore we fuck y’all up!”
While Princess talked shit, Pop studied the jack boys, noticing the distance they kept from him. He also noticed their serious demeanor. These boys were about their business, and Princess’ mouth might get them killed. “Chill, baby. This ain’t the time.”
Instead of heeding her man’s words, Princess went harder. “Nah, fuck that! These niggas ain’t shit. We ain’t givin’–”
The second jacker moved quickly, pistol-whipping Princess across the head. Pop felt her pain as she went down, thoughts of losing her flashing in his mind. He couldn’t lose both his bitches. He had to do something.
“Don’t even thank ‘bout it, fuck-boy!” the lead jacker spoke up. “Don’t turn this to no murda scene. Give up dem keys and walk away.”
Pop loved the Lambo, but it wasn’t worth dying for, so he went in his pocket for the keys.
“C’mon, mane! Y’all ain’t got
ta do that,” Ricco called.
Both jackers spun at the sound of Ricco’s voice. Pop seized the momentary distraction and shoved Princess into the nearest jacker as she was stumbling to her feet. The collision made both of them fall. Pop closed the distance between him and the lead jacker, his fist a blur as it raced toward the distracted man’s face.
There was a bone-shattering crunch as the big man’s fist met the jacker’s jaw. Like a puppet that had its strings clipped, down went the jacker. Without missing a beat, Pop went for jack boy number two as he stumbled to his feet, attempting to point the pistol. Anger, adrenaline, and the fear of being shot propelled Pop into the jacker before he could take aim.
Pow! The gun fired as he crashed into the smaller man, knocking him to the ground. The predator became prey when Pop dove on top of the stunned jacker and took his pistol. A bullet through the nose ended the life of Pop Somethin’s first Florida victim.
Knowing the gunshots had alerted others nearby, Pop grabbed Princess and moved toward the Batmobile. He had just unlocked the door and thrown her in the passenger sear when an engine revving got his attention. The jacker with the broken jaw had gotten to his feet and was lifting the pistol. Pop knew he wouldn’t be able to lift the pistol in his hand to shoot back or duck before the jack boy shot him.
And he didn’t have to. The Lexus CUV raced toward the jacker, smacking him and sending him flying into the air. Pop didn’t even wait for his body to hit the ground before he turned and jumped into the Lamborghini.
“My head hurt,” Princess whined from the passenger seat.
Pop shot her a mean glance. “You gon’ have to find another way to deal wit’ losin’ Queenie. You ain’t finna be sloppy drunk like this no more. You almost got us fucked up.”
Princess got an attitude. “What? It ain’t my fault they tried to rob us. Don’t blame that on me.”
“It is yo’ fault. I was too busy trynna getcho drunk ass in the car when they crept up. Ain’t no way that shoulda happened. All this drinkin’ and poppin’ pills finna stop. I need you on point. I need you focused.”