Criminal Minded

by Tracy Brown

  We were all making money. Hand over fist. Each of us was paid more than we had ever dreamed. Lamin and Lucky were hiring interior decorators to remodel their new home in Scotch Plains, New Jersey. They still hadn’t moved in, but the place was beginning to resemble the home of a mogul. That’s what Lamin was becoming. He was listed in hip-hop magazines as one of the most powerful players in the industry. He was in high demand and Shootin’ Crooks was one of the most lucrative companies in the field.

  I felt good having my own money, too. I was making a six-figure annual salary, and my bank account was delicious. It was great not to have to depend on niggas for dough. One of the biggest perks was that the designers sent me free clothes. Since Lamin and I were constantly photographed while out on the town, and since I was in charge of dressing the artists in the music videos produced by Shootin’ Crooks, the designers wanted to be sure that their looks were constantly on display. I had more Vuitton, Karan, Chanel, Dior, and Versace labels in my wardrobe than I knew what to do with. I spent lots of time at the designers’ parties and I had front-row seats at Fashion Week. I took pictures with all the A-list rappers, label tycoons, and models I could. In fact, some of the models grew to be my friends. I was interviewed in all of the urban magazines, giving advice about fashion and style. I had made a name for myself. I was Olivia Michaels. And that shit meant something. I knew my mother was proud of me. That’s what meant the most. I wanted to show her how to be happy without a man. I was high off life.

  Zion was also making big dough. He still had his roots in the street. Still flippin’ weight and running things in the ‘hoods of Shaolin and Brooklyn. But as silent partner for Shootin’ Crooks, Zion was also seeing hundreds of thousands of dollars in legitimate money. He was livin’ large for real. And it showed. He owned several properties in several different states and had so many cars and so many pieces of jewelry that it was sick. Zion was more stylish than ever. He would stop by the video sets, riding in his Porsche. His chain was so icy, dripping with diamonds and a crucifix hanging down to the middle of his chest. His left ear held a diamond stud the size of a dime. He was magnificent. And I loved him more than ever.

  But Zion had hurt me. He left me hanging when I thought we might have a chance to build something. And the only explanation he would give me was his respect for Lamin. I was wounded, and so was my pride. So maybe I was trying to get back at him by flaunting my various men in his face. Maybe I wanted him to feel some of the pain he had made me feel. It might seem childish. But it made me feel great to see him squirm every time I paraded a nigga around him. Revenge was sweet.

  Our friendship remained intact, though. Zion would never admit that my antics were bothering him. So whenever he came to the set, he would sit beside me and even comment on some of the outfits I clothed the artists in. He brought me lunch or breakfast depending on the time of the shoot. We laughed and talked and enjoyed each other’s company as friends. Sure I wanted more. I wanted to belong to Zion. But I was happy that we could still be close. It was better than nothing.

  But my relationship with Zion, no matter how innocent it was, bothered Donovan more and more. He would seethe whenever he came on the scene and saw me eating lunch with Zion. Or talking to Zion. Or even just in the presence of Zion. And Zion didn’t like seeing Donovan around either. Zion thought he was a master at hiding his emotions, but I could see right through him. I had learned how to decipher Zion’s facial expressions from working so closely with him while I was hustling. Zion didn’t fool me. He and Donovan never spoke to each other on the set. It was kinda nice to have two fly niggas vying for my attention. It was nice to feel wanted by not one but two of the most successful and attractive men in the industry. But Donovan was beginning to scare me. He had never put his hands on me, but his rage was fueled any time Zion’s name came up. I decided to put an end to our relationship. I just had to find the nerve to do it.

  Lamin

  I was asleep, dreaming about my mother. She was calling my name and I wouldn’t answer her. I ignored her until her calls turned into screams. She was screaming my name, and I finally answered her. And then she was gone. I couldn’t find her. I started calling her name and she didn’t answer me. The tables had been turned, and I was finding out what it felt like to be ignored and abandoned.

  I woke up to the feeling of lips on mine. I opened my eyes and saw Dream smiling at me. “You were having a nightmare,” she said, her voice was heavy with sleep. Even as she woke up, her breath still wasn’t funky.

  I kissed her back as I sat up in her king-sized canopy bed. The sheer white linens hung down from the canopy, surrounding the bed on all sides. Dream had given me the best nut I’d had in a long time, and I had fallen asleep immediately afterward. I attributed my nightmare to stress. I was busier than ever at work, I was upset about Curtis returning to prison, and I still hadn’t made amends with my mother. I propped myself up on my elbow as I leaned on the seven pillows she had on the bed. “What time is it, ma?”

  Dream looked at the clock on the side of the bed. “It’s 3:44 in the morning.”

  I yawned and stretched. “I gotta get goin’, baby. It’s late.” Dream knew my situation with Lucky and she was understanding. She never gave me a hard time about having to get home before the sun came up. Dream was content with the time we did get to spend together. It made the whole thing a lot easier on me.

  She smiled. “Yes, you better go before I give you a reason to stay a while longer.” She looked so sexy laying naked under the white satin sheets.

  I took a peak underneath the covers and traced my hands along her body. “Well, I didn’t say that I have to leave right this minute.” I pulled her close and we went for round two.

  By the time we finished an hour had passed. I went into her spacious bathroom and took a hot shower. While I was lathering up, I heard her enter the bathroom and she slid open the shower door and stepped inside. “Let me wash you,” she said. I stood still as she lathered me up in Egyptian vanilla soap. She looked in my eyes. “You don’t have to buy me gifts like that, Lamin. I don’t need things like that to enjoy being with you.”

  I smiled. I had slipped a diamond tennis bracelet underneath her pillow as a token of my affection. “You weren’t supposed to find that until after I left.”

  “I know that …”

  “And I didn’t get it for you because I think that’s all you want. I know you could buy your own diamonds. But I saw it and I thought of you. So take it as a sign that I care for you.”

  She smiled and kissed me again. “Thank you, Lamin. I care for you, too. Now get on out of here so I can miss you when you’re gone.” She stepped out of the shower and I rinsed myself off. I meant what I said. I did care for Dream. Dream was my weakness. But Lucky had my heart.

  Lucky

  I was sleeping when the phone rang at five in the morning. I woke up and realized that Lamin wasn’t home. Reaching over to the phone on his side of the bed, I answered it.

  “Lucky?” Olivia sounded anxious.

  “Yeah, Olivia. What’s up?”

  “Is Lamin awake?”

  “He’s not home.” I was embarrassed to admit that. “What’s wrong?”

  Olivia sighed into the receiver. “I just wanted to talk to him about Donovan. The nigga just called me and said that he’s coming over whether I wanted him to or not and then he hung up on me. I’m gonna tell him that it’s over between us ’cause the muthafucka is scaring me now. But I wanted Lamin to be on point just in case Donovan goes ballistic and I need some help over here.”

  I sat up in bed. “Why are you going to let him in, Olivia? Just don’t open the door for him. I told you his ass is crazy. He follows you, questions you all the time. You don’t need that shit.” Olivia had confided in me that she was scared of Donovan. She made me promise not to tell overprotective Lamin, but clearly things were not getting better.

  “I know, Lucky. That’s why I’m gonna put a stop to this shit. It’s too much now. I gotta get up
for work in the morning and this son of a bitch is coming over here to argue.”

  “Argue about what?”

  “He claims that he saw me with Zion today and he’s pissed off.”

  “Why didn’t he approach you when he saw you then? Why wait until five in the morning to start shit? The man sounds unstable, Olivia. Don’t let him in.”

  “Listen, Lucky. I have to stop avoiding this issue with Donovan. He said he’s coming over here tonight, so we’re going to finish this shit tonight. Donovan is acting crazy, but I don’t think he’ll hurt me. It ain’t that serious. When Lamin gets home, just tell him what I said please. I’ll call you and let you know what happens.”

  Then she hung up. At that point I was wide awake so I got out of bed and went into the kitchen to pour myself something to drink. As I opened the refrigerator, I heard Lamin turning his key in the door. He was beginning to come home later and later. It seemed that there was always some place he had to be and some kind of situation that he needed to handle. I didn’t usually complain since I had never enjoyed confrontations. But this was getting out of hand. As I walked out of the kitchen, he was entering the house.

  “What are you doin’ up?” he asked, dropping his keys on the table and hanging up his jacket.

  I folded my arms across my chest and leaned on the wall. “Why are you coming in so late?”

  Lamin looked at me like I had a lot of nerve questioning him. “What kinda question is that? You know I was out handling my business.” He walked into the kitchen and I followed him.

  “What kind of business do you have to handle at five o’clock in the morning?”

  “Lucky, what is the problem? I had a dinner meeting with a Sony exec, we had a couple drinks and before I knew it, the time flew by. What’s with the third degree?”

  “Wouldn’t you give me the third degree if I came strolling in the door at all hours of the night?”

  Lamin turned to face me. He held my face in his hands and kissed me softly. “I’m sorry. I’ll make sure it don’t happen again.”

  He smelled so good. I melted and kissed him back. “Olivia called.”

  “When?”

  “About ten minutes ago. She said she wanted you to know that Donovan is coming over, and she plans to break it off with him. She wants you to be on alert in case she needs your help.”

  Lamin sat on one of the bar stools and looked concerned. “Why is he coming over this late?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Call her.”

  Lamin picked up the phone and dialed Olivia’s number. After a few moments, he hung up the phone. “She’s not answering.” He sat thinking for a few minutes. Then he walked to the closet, grabbed his jacket, and picked his keys up off the table. “I’m going over there.”

  “Don’t go by yourself, Lamin.” The last thing I needed was for my baby to be caught in the middle of a lovers’ quarrel.

  “That’s my sister, Lucky. I’ll kill that nigga if he lays a hand on her.” Lamin kissed me on the forehead and headed back out the door.

  I was still worried about Lamin going over there by himself. I dialed Zion’s number and explained what happened. I prayed that everything would be okay.

  Olivia

  As soon as I hung up the phone with Lucky, that bastard Donovan was banging on my door. I got out of bed and wrapped the red silk kimono Lucky had given me for my birthday around me. I grabbed my gun from my nightstand drawer, and held it by my side, just in case he got crazy. I would not hesitate to shoot his crazy ass. I strolled through the living room, opened the door, and saw Donovan standing there, looking furious. He didn’t wait to be invited in.

  “I saw you with Zion, Olivia.” Donovan brushed past me and walked into the apartment.

  “It’s over, Donovan.”

  He turned and faced me. He stood dumbfounded for a minute. “What did you say?”

  “I said it’s over, Donovan. Enough is enough! You’re jealous all the time, following me—”

  “Because you’re so fuckin’ sneaky! I have to worry about who you’re with and what you’re doing because you’re in a different nigga’s face all the time.”

  “Admit it, Donovan. It’s not every nigga that you’re worried about. It’s Zion. If you saw me with him, why didn’t you confront me then? You hate it when you see me talking to him, but you never complain until we’re alone. You don’t like him being on the set all the time, but you never tell him that. Why are you scared of Zion?”

  Before I could blink, he had me pinned to the wall with his hands around my throat. “You fuckin’ bitch! You talk so much shit! Do I look like I’m scared of anybody?”

  The look in his eyes was bone chilling. He was crazy and deranged and I could see it so clearly as I gasped for air. I raised the gun, attempting to point it at Donovan’s head, still gasping for oxygen. He caught sight of the gun just as I raised it and he snapped. Donovan let go of my neck and punched me dead in the face. The blow knocked me off my feet and sent my gun skidding across my hardwood floors. Now, I’m a tough bitch. But that nigga hit me like I was a grown man. I was dazed for a minute. As I scrambled and crawled, trying to grab the gun before he did, Donovan grabbed me by my hair and yanked me to my feet, pulling me toward him. He wrapped his big hands around my throat once more.

  “You wanna shoot me, Olivia? Huh? You fuckin’ bitch!” I heard my phone ringing and wondered if it was my brother. I wished at that moment that I would have listened to Lucky when she told me not to let Donovan in. He looked at the phone as it stopped ringing.

  “Who was that calling you at this time of night? Huh?”

  I wondered how he expected me to answer him when his hands were squeezing my throat. He let me go and I gasped, trying to breathe only to have him smack me so hard that I went flying backward. I knocked over a lamp as I fell into the end table and I held my face where it stung from the blow.

  “Why you playing with me, Olivia? Why you want me to sweat you all the time? Why I gotta cater to you? Huh?”

  I sat silent, realizing that there was nothing I could say to this muthafucka that would make him feel better. He charged at me again, and I defended myself. I picked up the lamp I had knocked over and threw it right at his head. He ducked and it missed him and he ran toward me. I scrambled to my feet and ran away from him, trying to get to the gun. But he caught up to me and grabbed me by my robe.

  “You think you’re tough, right, Olivia?”

  “You’re fuckin’ crazy!” I yelled.

  “I’m crazy, huh?” He punched me in my face like I was a man. I fell back and hit my head on the hardwood floors. For a second I saw stars. But Donovan wasn’t done with me. He straddled me, slapping me in the face with his heavy hands. He pulled me to my feet by my hair and his face was so close to mine that I could smell his breath.

  “You wanna leave me, Olivia? Is that what you wanna do? Huh? ANSWER ME!”

  I heard pounding on my apartment door and thanked God for the interruption. Donovan glanced at the door and then back at me. “Who is that?”

  “I won’t know unless I answer it.” I knew my lip was busted because it felt funny as I spoke. I touched my mouth and saw blood on my hands.

  “Go answer it, then!” Donovan shoved me in the direction of the door, and I stumbled and fell. While I was spread out across the floor, Donovan walked over and picked up my gun. Before I could get back on my feet, I heard keys jingling and the door being unlocked. Lamin opened it and saw me sprawled across the floor, struggling to get to my feet. I had never been happier to see him in my life. I was so thankful that I had given him a spare key to my place. My brother had steam coming out of his ears.

  “Olivia, what the fuck is going on in here?” Lamin touched my bruised and bloody face and then gently moved me aside as he stormed toward Donovan. My brother’s walk was determined. He took three steps and was face-to-face with Donovan. Donovan stood his ground, aiming my gun as Lamin charged at him.

  “You hit my sister, you son of a bit
ch?” I had never seen Lamin so angry.

  I was afraid that Donovan would shoot at any moment. But Lamin must have sensed that Donovan was too pussy to pull the trigger and Lamin kept charging at him.

  I screamed, “Lamin! Don’t …” Before I could finish my sentence, Lamin knocked Donovan against the wall. They tussled for a minute or two, and all the while, I was yelling, scared that the gun would go off and my brother would be shot. But it wasn’t long before Lamin got the best of Donovan and caused him to drop the gun. Donovan was getting fucked up, and Lamin wasn’t stopping. I ran and grabbed my gun off the floor and waited for Lamin to let Donovan go.

  I heard another knock at my door and I was relieved to see Zion standing there when I opened it. He took one look at my face and hugged me close to him. “Who did this to you, Olivia?”

  I didn’t have to answer him because he could see the commotion behind me as Lamin continued to pummel Donovan. Zion rushed past me and pulled out his own gun. My brother stood up and towered over that sorry bastard Donovan. Lamin was out of breath and infuriated while Donovan sat in a bloody heap on the floor with his back against the wall.

  Zion cocked his gun and aimed it at Donovan’s temple. “La, you wanna mirk this nigga?”

  “NO!” I yelled. “Don’t do that. Please, Zion, don’t do that shit!”

  Zion looked confused. “You gonna defend this muthafucka after he beat you like this?”

  I shook my head. “No. But I don’t want you and Lamin to get in trouble for cleaning up my mess, Zion. Somebody’s gonna go to jail, and it ain’t worth it over this nigga.”