Head Games

by Mary B. Morrison

CHAPTER 57

  Blitz

  Day 14

  A white wooden sign with the words LAW OFFICES hung above the black VOODOO BAR plaque. Wondering which was her place of business, I stood on the porch. Is this the way I want to get out of debt?

  My cell rang. It was the third unidentified caller of the day, and it was only ten in the morning. I entered through the door, with peeling paint lining the trim.

  The hallway had suites on both sides. I found her number. VOODOO QUEEN was on a dream catcher that swayed over the peephole.

  I tapped three times, took a step back.

  “Hi, Blitz Roulet?” she said, standing barely above five feet. Her waist rounded to her hips. Her body rocked side-to-side as she walked. The dream catcher chimed long after she’d closed the door.

  “Yes. You must be Irene.”

  A porcelain statue of a black man with shackles on hands, feet, neck, was in the center of the room. I walked around him. Felt as though his eyes followed my every move.

  “Aw, don’t mind, George. He keeps me grounded. Never want to forget where I come from,” Irene said. “The moment you forget, that’s what you get. It’s called prison nowadays. Soon as they freed us, they built those things . . . for us. Have a seat. I don’t bite, but my dog will take a chunk outta ya ass if you make any sudden moves. Don’t be rude, Pitts. Speak to Mr. Roulet.”

  The black pit bull barked twice, sat beside the desk, stared at me. His blue eyes were chilling.

  “What would you like to drink?” she asked. “I only serve Hurricanes, categories one to five. Pick your poison.”

  Liquor and business did not mix. “I’ll have a category ‘no thank you.’ I need to borrow five hundred thousand dollars,” I said, then asked, “Can you have Pitts chill out?”

  She laughed. Her belly jiggled. Pulling the lever on a daiquiri machine, she filled a bowl, added five shots of tequila, then placed it on the floor in front of Pitts. “He hasn’t had his breakfast.”

  Pitts lapped until he moved the empty bowl several inches. His tongue hung from the side of his mouth. His paws slid on the linoleum until his stomach disappeared underneath him. His eyes closed. Open. Slowly closed. Didn’t reopen. He snored.

  Irene entered a vault, rolled out a black four-wheel suitcase large enough for me to pack clothes for a two-week vacation. She opened it, dumped the contents on her desk. “There you go. Five hundred thousand dollars. Line it up and count it out.” She mixed another cocktail. I guess the number of shots dictated what category it was. She added six. That must’ve been a tornado.

  I’d never seen that much money in cash. “Let’s complete the application first.” I didn’t want to get excited if she was going to deny me.

  “I don’t do applications. Ralph recommended you. You’re good. In thirty days you pay me one million in cash.”

  More of an incentive to win, but just like gambling and my stocks, I’d walk away with nothing, except most of my debt and my home would be clear. I counted the money. Zipped up the bag. Headed straight to Ralph, opened a new account, made a deposit.

  * * *

  As I left the bank, my cell rang.

  “Hello, and, yes, I have your money. Process the full amount to pay my account in full.” I gave her my routing and account numbers. Shit felt great.

  Called Atlantis. “How’re things going with Trymm?”

  “I’m not sure if I can do this for two more weeks. He’s got a lot going on. A crazy stunned me,” she lamented.

  Couldn’t be that bad. I had to win.

  “Hey, if you quit now, you’ll never know. Everybody has somebody when you first meet them.”

  “Yeah, but with Trymm it’s not somebody, it’s how many somebodies?” Atlantis said.

  She had a point. “Don’t let your work be in vain. Keep the fake fiancé alive. At the end of the two weeks, tell Trymm you’re leaving your fiancé for him. Next time I see him, I’m putting in a good word for you. You’re beautiful. Hell, if he doesn’t marry you, I will.” I paused, giving her an opportunity to say something.

  Atlantis was quiet.

  “Look, Trymm is foolish, but he’s no fool. I just got off the phone with him. He’s making moves in your direction. That nigga slow ’cause you got him nervous.”

  “Okay, I’ll give him more time,” she said. “What have I got to lose?”

  “You’re a smart woman. I’ll check back with you in a few days.”

  Ending the call, my phone rang. I brought my car note current. I headed to The Crystal Room inside Le Pavillon, in search of my next victim.

  Life was looking up for a brother.

  CHAPTER 58

  Elizabeth

  Day 18

  Cleaning out Einstein’s bank account was eerie and too damn easy. He had no second layer of security, and the answers to each question were stored in his phone. The setup of a new computer wasn’t problematic. Nefertiti forwarded his number to a temporary number she’d established, entered the code that was texted to her, then ended the forward.

  In a matter of days, I had a million dollars banked in an offshore business account. Tomorrow I’d move from one offshore account to another, then close the original.

  “Let’s race,” I told Nefertiti.

  “Ten laps?” she asked, jumping into the pool at a private mansion.

  “I need it.” I’d rented an island in Fiji for the week.

  Nefertiti yelled, “I can tell,” then doggie-paddled to the side.

  I dove into twelve feet, came up beside her. I kicked away my frustrations to stay afloat.

  “Let’s go.” Nefertiti started swimming laterally.

  Pushing off with my feet, I pulled the water with all my strength. Never had I not been in control of my career. I didn’t need a getaway. I wanted to work. My teams were being led by a newcomer. I flipped, started lap two. Nefertiti was right behind me.

  There wasn’t a man I couldn’t handle. This exploitation situation was unfathomable. I swam an extra two laps while Nefertiti finished her last. Lifting ourselves out of the deep end, we cocooned our bodies with plush white beach towels.

  “Admit it. That was the easiest million you’ve ever made, Ms. Elizabeth Dawson.” Nefertiti tossed her towel to the ground. “I know today is supposed to be R and R, but I couldn’t sleep last night. I’ve got deets that are going to blow your mind.”

  I emphasized, “We ever made. Thanks to you.”

  Booting up her laptop, she turned it away from the sunlight. We put on our shades, sat at a table underneath a huge umbrella.

  Nefertiti said, “You have to listen to this recording.”

  “Is this Blitz Einstein Roulet?”

  “Yeah, what’s up?”

  “I have to inform you that this call may be recorded for—”

  “What the fuck you calling me for? I paid you. In full!”

  “Sir, you have not made any payments. If you don’t make a payment by tomorrow, we’re going to have to ask you to return the car, or we’ll have to—”

  “Bitch, touch my car and I’ll kick your ass! I paid you! Check your system. And stop fucking harassing me!”

  Nefertiti fast-forwarded to:

  “Ralph, what’s the balance in my new account?”

  “Zero.”

  “What the fuck? I just deposited one million dollars last Thursday. Paid off three debts, but it can’t be zero.”

  “Blitz, I see where you transferred the million dollars to an offshore account.”

  “A what? Nigga, you got jokes. You and Irene best not be playing games. Give me the balance in the 0069.”

  “Sixty million, five hundred, eighty-seven and—”

  “Stop there. I’m on my way to your office to straighten this shit out.”

  “It’s karma with a capital k, man. You running game on these women with your boys. Y’all betting a million dollars on how many women you can fuck and ruin their lives on social.”

  “I don’t need you to be my conscience. Check that a
ccount, my brother. The million dollars is there. See you shortly.”

  My lips curved so high, my cheeks hurt. “If he’s got that much money, why is he playing games?” I questioned.

  Nefertiti smiled, shut down her computer, picked it up. “Let’s go chill for a moment. I have a plan.”

  Stepping onto the beach, I called out to our butlers, “We’re ready.”

  Relaxing in the cabana, we watched the ocean waves splash upon the white sand. We were hand-fed tropical fruit from a golden platter.

  “I can feed myself. Rub my legs and feet,” Nefertiti told her guy. She leaned against a pillow, spread her legs, sucked her frozen piña colada out of a pineapple.

  I patted myself on the back, told my soon-to-be lover, “Massage everything.” Bracing myself on my elbows, I looked up at Nefertiti, “What’s next?”

  Nefertiti slid her sunglasses to the tip of her nose. “What do you think is next? We take all of it.”

  “Forget getting my job back. We’re starting our own company.”

  I held my hand up. Nefertiti held her hand up. We slapped one another’s palm.

  Smiling, I said, “Let’s do it!”

  CHAPTER 59

  Blitz

  Day 23

  “What the fuck you mean you don’t know where my money is?

  You don’t just misplace sixty-one million dollars, nigga!”

  “You’re right,” Ralph said. “Just like I explained to your father, we’re—”

  “Nigga, you trying to get me killed! What the fuck you do that for?” I paced the short distance in Ralph’s office. I swear if the ceiling-to-floor windows were wood, I’d beat Ralph’s ass.

  “Blitz, we’re working on figuring out what happened. I need for you to calm down.”

  “Don’t tell me to calm the fuck down!” I started jumping up and down.

  Before I laid hands on Ralph, I stormed out of the bank. “Where the fuck you going with my car, nigga?”

  I chased the tow truck six blocks before giving up. At least I was closer to my destination. I walked the rest of the way down Poydras Street to Drago’s, trying to come up with a lie they’d believe. Even if one of them had questions, I decided it was best to say nothing. How was I going to explain to the crewe that the million dollars was gone?

  All of it.

  I sat at the oyster bar alone. Reserved three seats for my crewe. Had to calm down.

  Got a text from my dad, You know I’ma put my foot straight up your ass when I see you! If your mother and I are indicted, you’re taking the fall.

  Politicians in New Orleans didn’t do jail time. Dad was getting worked up over the wrong thing. We needed to get our money straight.

  A call registered from an unidentified caller. I answered, “Hello,” not giving a fuck at this point who it was.

  “So you like playing games, Einstein?”

  I sprang from my seat. “Who the fuck is this?” Looking around the room, I didn’t notice anyone watching me.

  The call ended. My cell rang again. I answered.

  “Is this Blitz Einstein Roulet?”

  I asked, “Did you just call me?”

  She repeated her question. I repeated mine.

  “No. Is this Blitz Einstein Roulet?”

  I noticed Kohl approaching the bar. Said to whoever was on the other end, “All right, babe. I’ll meet you later tonight at GW Fins. Bye,” then ended the call.

  “Fins? You spend way too much on these females,” he said, sitting to my right.

  I said, “You looking sharper than usual. Who you trying to impress? Your baby mama?” I laughed to annoy him.

  “Where’s your Rolex, bruh? Second time I’ve seen you without it in eight years.”

  With so much fucking happening, I hadn’t thought about my watch recently. I rubbed my wrist. Lied, “Can’t find it.” Well, that was, in part, the truth.

  “Sure you didn’t pawn it? You might be in over your head, but this bet was your idea and I’m getting my money.” Kohl smirked at me. “Never know, might have to smash one of your CEOs.”

  “So how’s your count going?” I asked with a grin. “Ran out of strippers yet?”

  Dallas approached us, turned the back of his chair to the wall. “What’s up, dudes? Trymm coming?”

  Kohl answered, “Yeah, said he’d be here shortly.”

  “One of those chicks probably have his dick tied in a knot,” I said, then laughed.

  Kohl stared at me, hard and long, then asked Dallas, “You still in love with whatever her name is?”

  “I got some shit y’all will never believe unless I showed you,” Dallas said, handing his cell to Kohl.

  Kohl checked it out, handed the cell to me. I was quiet, handed it back to Kohl.

  “How you feelin’ about this, D?” Kohl patted Dallas hard on the back.

  Dallas didn’t respond. I understood.

  “Nigga, where is your watch?” Dallas asked me.

  Trymm walked up. Saved me from having to relive how those punks robbed me during daylight.

  “Nig-ga, where you been?” Dallas asked Trymm.

  Had to keep the focus off of me. “Ain’t seen shit from you on social since Southern Belle. Guess old Clydesdale can’t hang.”

  Trymm placed his iPad on the counter, stared at my wrist, answered, “Nigga, where is your—”

  Dallas shook his head. “Don’t ask.”

  Trymm sat at the counter next to me. “See y’all left me the seat with my back to the audience so I can’t check out the females first,” then added, “All I know is each of you betta show your face at my parents’ anniversary party at Gallier Hall on the thirty-first. Six o’clock sharp.”

  Wasn’t happening. That was report day. Had to make sure my shit was in order.

  “One of y’all say something. Damn!” Trymm stopped our waiter. “Let us get four baker’s dozen of them flame-broiled oysters on a half shell and a round of Hen.”

  “I’ma ’bout to trump all y’all. Let’s do a count. Write down your numbers,” Kohl said, handing each of us a napkin.

  Trymm balled his up. Tossed it at me. “Hell no. All I want eight days from now is proof. Videos, confessions, social posts. All that.” He tapped his iPad.

  That nigga damn near guarded that tablet with his life.

  Some random female dressed in denim short shorts, a man’s fedora, and a fitted blouse thrust her cleavage in Trymm’s face. She had big-ass nipples like Ramona’s. Her hair was short, slicked at the back and sides. Lips shiny.

  Dallas kept eating.

  “I was at your yacht party. Remember me?” she asked him all sexy and shit, eyeing his iPad.

  Is that right?

  Trymm slid his iPad away from her.

  Trymm looked at her. She eyed his tablet.

  That iPad was the ticket to his downfall. I had a plan.

  She moaned as she said, “I was hoping we could get together again without the other ninety-nine females that were all over your big banana boat.”

  Ninety the fuck what? Bitches?

  Chick put a spotlight on Trymm. Started massaging his dick.

  Dallas said, “Ditch that bitch!”

  Trymm asked me, “Let’s switch seats, homey, before I raise up outta here.”

  Next thing, she jabbed the flashlight into Trymm’s dick. My brother yelled, “Fuck!” He grabbed his nuts, leaned over, holding his shit.

  I wanted to laugh so badly, but that might’ve encouraged that crazy bitch to do it again. I started recording for entertainment later.

  “My sister didn’t suck your dick for you to degrade her on social media. Thought your lil yacht party was just for fun. Thanks to you, my sister’s husband is divorcing her! She has to raise her son and daughter by herself! Had to pull them out of their school because kids wouldn’t stop teasing them! You broke up her happy home! I should stun you again!” she said, reaching toward Trymm.

  Wow. Black women are easy to get with. Hard to get rid of. Had me thinkin
g if my shit was revenge.

  The woman swiftly pointed the flashlight at Dallas.

  Oh, bitch, you gon’ die today. I moved the fuck out the way.

  D grabbed her by the throat. Started choking the life out of her. Her mouth was open, but her ass couldn’t say shit. She started turning red. She brought that shit on herself. She can’t just go around stunning niggas.

  “You don’t look so good right now, brotha man,” I joked at Trymm, then yelled out to our waiter, “Yo! Lay four more dozen oysters on us and another round of Hen on me. It’s gon’ take this nigga a minute to recuperate.”

  Trymm scanned the counter. Looked around the restaurant for the women. “Where the fuck is my iPad, homies? Where the fuck is my . . .”

  “It’s gon’ take this nigga’s dick a while to recuperate,” I joked some more.

  “Fuck you, Blitz. I’m still ahead of your ass,” Trymm said, leaning on the counter.

  I smiled. “Not for long, my brother. Not for long.”

  I texted, Atlantis, take Trymm’s iPad on the 30th and give it to me. I’ll explain later.

  CHAPTER 60

  Blitz

  Day 30

  Debbie was the true soldier.

  As usual, I was the first to arrive. Had gotten off the bus two stops early.

  Today my brother Dallas was tying a slipknot. I made my way to the back of the church. Pretended I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to be there. Debbie met me in the dining hall, where food was being set up for after the ceremony.

  “Here’s your fifty dollars,” I said, slipping it in her hand. I had to get cash off of my last surviving credit card. Was a matter of days before the bank canceled this one, too.

  “No, you keep it. I really love Dallas, and I truly want to marry him,” she said. “I’m not going to walk away from him at the altar.”

  Isn’t like I’m turning down money. Shitz, where is the other half?

  “Cool.” I wasn’t going to stand here persuading her otherwise. “I’ma go up front.”

  I took one look at Dallas and laughed. “Your eyes red as hell. You must’ve had a hell of a night.”