* * *
YaYa didn’t know why she had gone through all the trouble. Surely Parker’s brains didn’t bring the same value as YaYa’s beauty. She was effortlessly the prettiest woman in the room. She always was. It was just her thing, but meeting with Parker was like the showdown of queens, and she couldn’t step into the café any other way. She was trying to mask her insecurities. She couldn’t show her hand. Under no circumstance would Parker see her bothered. She sat silently with a stone face as her heart raced. Indie reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. She knew that he hadn’t asked for this storm to disrupt their lives. King was a child from a prior relationship. This technically wasn’t anyone’s fault, but still YaYa couldn’t help but assign blame. She hadn’t spoken to him all morning, but the silence was worse than the screaming and fighting. At least then she was getting out her anger. Suppressing it was driving her up a wall, and she feared that when she set her sights on Parker, she would become a target for her wrath.
The crowded café was neutral ground, and YaYa knew Indie had chosen it to stop the conversation from getting too heated. She was nervous, afraid of what the outcome of this dreaded meeting would be. She and Indie had walked in together, but there was no guarantee that they would leave the same way.
Parker entered the café, and YaYa’s stomach hollowed at the sight. She didn’t understand how she had ever been Indie’s type. They were like night and day. Two different types of women, two different levels, two different trains of thought … they weren’t even in the same league. She couldn’t say one of them was better than the other, but there was no way they should have attracted the same man. She was wound so tightly, her shoulders inadvertently tensed as she sat with her legs crossed. This woman was a threat to her family. Everything in YaYa wanted to attack, wanted to defend what was hers, but she kept her cool. She felt Indie’s hand cover hers, and she sighed as she intertwined her fingers with his.
“Why am I here, Indie?” Parker asked as soon as she approached their table.
“Sit down, Parker,” Indie replied as he extended his hand.
Parker looked at YaYa, visibly upset as her chest heaved up and down. Animosity filled the room as YaYa stared back, unflinchingly. Parker was thrown off, bombarded by YaYa’s presence. Just the night before Indie had been in her bed, now he was sitting across the table with her enemy. She was so angry that she wanted to cry, but instead she crossed her arms, nostrils flaring as she tried her hardest to control her temper.
“Please, Parker. We just want to have a conversation about the kids,” Indie said. Parker ruffled her curly hair and slammed her briefcase onto the table before sitting down.
“Fine. Since I just saw you at my place last night, Indie, I’m assuming that you aren’t the reason I’m here. So let’s talk, YaYa,” Parker said.
“First, I want to let you know that you won’t be seeing my husband at your home anymore. I know he is King’s father and I want him to be there for his son, but he won’t be there for you,” YaYa said.
“I don’t see how King is your concern. He’s our son,” Parker said as she pointed between her and Indie. “Why the fuck is this bitch even addressing me?” Parker looked directly at Indie as if YaYa didn’t exist.
“This bitch will beat that ass if you keep disrespecting me. I’m trying to play this cordially, but it can go the other way if you want it to,” YaYa threatened.
“Chill out,” Indie said as he placed a firm hand beneath the table on YaYa’s thigh.
“Don’t tell me to chill out. You put a muzzle on your mutt,” YaYa spat. The smug expression on Parker’s face told YaYa that Indie had been lying. This nigga got me arguing over community dick. I’m two seconds from slapping his ass too, she thought. She knew that she could be jumping to conclusions. In fact, she hoped she was, but there was something about Parker’s aura that screamed, I fucked your man.
“King is our son.” Indie interrupted her thoughts before Parker could throw back more insults. “And I am going to do everything I can to be a father to him and to make up for all the time I’ve missed with him, P, but YaYa is my wife. Skylar is my daughter. They are my family, and I want King to be a part of that. In no way do I want to take over, Parker. You’ve done a great job. I’m grateful that King has a mom like you. I just want you to be open to him spending time at my house.”
“With her?” Parker asked. “Why? Because she said so?”
“Because I said so,” Indie replied.
“My daughter is his sister,” YaYa said. “I’m Indie’s wife. That makes me a part of King’s life. I didn’t ask for this. Neither did you, but it is what it is. Indie is being nice, but I’m going to lay this out for you. Your son won’t be a pawn. You will not use him as leverage. King is always welcome in our home, and I hope to get to know him. I hope to give my daughter the chance to get to know her brother, but it won’t be on your terms. We all need to come to an arrangement that is respectful, right here, right now.”
Parker focused on Indie. “Are you serious right now?”
“We all have to make the best out of a confusing circumstance. I ain’t trying to disrespect you,” he said. Indie turned to YaYa. “Or you, ma. I just want a resolution. Both of you know I got money in the streets. If my home ain’t happy, I can’t focus on what needs to be taken care of. I can’t move correctly if my mind is wrapped around the beef between the two of you. It’s awkward, it’s uncomfortable, but this is where we are. I need you to respect my wife, Parker. Respect the boundaries so that I can be a part of King’s life, without drama.”
“You respect your wife, Indie! That’s not my job!” Parker shot back. “You setting up this bullshit meeting to tell me the rules? King has to come to your house to see you. You’re married and you’re happy. Ain’t no room for me? Are you sure, Indie? Because you and your little wife here are doing a lot right now. Who y’all trying to convince? Me or yourselves? You for damn sure wasn’t respecting this rocks-for-brains-ass bitch last night!” Parker stood to her feet and grabbed her briefcase. “King is my son. His home is with me. If you want to be a part of our lives, you can, but if you ever corner me and throw this farce of a marriage in my face again, I will take my son so far away from you, you won’t even know where to begin looking.”
“What did you just say to me?” Indie asked, growing heated. Parker knew exactly what buttons to push to get a reaction from him. “You’re going to take my son away? Again? You gone do me dirty a second time?” He stood and pointed a stern finger in her face. “You’re foul, P. I don’t even know you right now.” He stormed out of the café, leaving Parker with fresh pools of emotion glistening in her eyes.
YaYa rose to her feet and placed both hands on the table as she leaned over it, into Parker’s face. “You don’t get Indie without me. Like I said, King is always welcome in our home. If you choose not to allow him to visit, that’s on you, but my man won’t be coming over to play house. I gave you a pass when you came storming into our wedding ceremony, but I’ve been itching to get my hands on you. I’m trying to be really lady-like right now. Whatever you and Indie had is past tense. I’m his present. I’m his future. The faster you accept that, the easier it will be for everyone involved, including both of our children.”
Parker scoffed at YaYa. “You’re really threatened by me, aren’t you?” she asked. She smiled. She wanted to tell YaYa that she had been with Indie the night before. She had hinted at it, but to blatantly say it would put her on the outs with Indie. He would be livid. It was a card she would keep to play later. Her presence was enough to get under YaYa’s skin for now. “You should be, Mrs. Perkins, because your husband’s heart has a lock on it, and guess who holds the key.” Parker walked around YaYa and out of the café, leaving YaYa burning with anger and even more worried than before.
YaYa left the café and got into Indie’s car. “Indie … I’m…”
“Are you happy?” Indie asked.
“Excuse me?” she replied.
; “Are you done securing your position, gloating about the fact that I married you? Did you get all that shit out your system? Because that’s what today was about. You wanted to set up this meeting so you could flash your ring in her face and grandstand. It wasn’t about King. It was about you,” Indie stated as he pulled away from the café. He kept his eyes on the street ahead of him because he couldn’t look at YaYa.
“I can’t believe you right now.”
“Don’t speak, ma. I’m not up for conversation. I don’t want to say something to you that I might regret. I just need to think,” Indie said.
“She can’t keep your son away from you,” YaYa pushed.
“I’ll handle it,” Indie responded sternly.
“This isn’t just your problem, Indie. What you do affects me. It affects Skylar—”
“I know that. I don’t need your help with this, YaYa. I should have put my foot down before we did this today. I knew better, and this little competition between you and Parker, it’s only going to make shit worse” Indie said.
YaYa cringed as she replied, “There is no competition, and don’t think I missed that slick shit she was bumping about you disrespecting me last night. Fuck was that all about? You said you were out looking for King. Is there something you’re not telling me? Don’t let that uppity bitch have something over my head.”
“She’s just talking. Don’t stoop down to her level. I need you to be the bigger woman,” Indie pleaded.
“I should be the only woman,” YaYa retorted.
Indie sighed but came up with no response. Nothing else could be said. YaYa was right. Indie had put her in an impossible position, and neither he nor she knew how to make it right. They didn’t even know if they were on the same team, despite the fact that they shared the same last name.
“Go get Sky from my mom and go home, YaYa,” Indie said as he pulled over and placed the car in park. “Take my car.”
“And where the hell are you going?” YaYa asked.
“Not where you think. I do have business to handle. Can’t babysit your feelings tonight. That thing I’ve been working on, it’s happening tonight. I need my head clear for that,” Indie said.
He didn’t kiss her like he normally did before they parted ways. She jumped as he slammed the door in frustration. A tear slowly rolled down her cheek as he got lost in the thick crowd, and she couldn’t help but wonder how long it would be before he disappeared from her life for good.
6
Women were complicated creatures. They made it hard to focus. What they had between their legs was powerful, venomous, and addictive all at the same time. Indie hadn’t wanted the responsibility of two women; he didn’t like the fact that they both had placed their hearts in his hands. It was driving him crazy, knocking him off his square. Indie was so busy worrying about YaYa and Parker that he couldn’t keep his mind on the business at hand. He wasn’t on point, and he knew it could cost him everything. Indie had always hustled flawlessly. He prided himself on plotting his moves carefully, but he couldn’t get his mind right. His personal life was in turmoil, and his heart just wasn’t in the flip anymore.
As Indie stood at the loading dock watching the shipment be loaded onto the truck, time stood still. He felt like he had lived this exact moment before. Perhaps it was because he had been through this routine time and time again. He had sold drugs for years and worked his way from the bottom to the top, but it was all the same thing. It was all the same hustle, he just happened to be moving a different product. He had thought his seat on Vartex’s board had meant he had graduated from the streets, but as he stood overseeing this operation, he couldn’t help but feel stagnant. He had not grown as much as he thought. He was the same nigga doing the same shit, making the same choices. Only difference was, he now called the plays from his penthouse office while wearing Italian suits. This was still the same game, and it was at this moment, when his head was on a swivel, when his heart raced at the thought of seeing red and blue lights in the distance, that he realized it most. Indie put on the illusion of being clean, but his hands were dirtier than ever. With Chase in Houston, Indie had no one watching his back. Needless to say, he couldn’t afford to misstep. He had too much to lose.
He had matured in the game. He had a family waiting for him to come home. He had two families depending on him, two women with their damned demands distracting him. Gone were the days when he had only himself to protect. Standing under the moon, feeling his pistol pressed against his hip as he watched his workers load the semi, he felt inadequate. He didn’t feel like a king who was covering his kingdom. He felt like he was pressing his luck. He had enough money, perhaps not generational wealth, but he was comfortable and his family was fed. Greed was motivating him to stay in the game past his prime. Now that he was weighing the stakes, it didn’t seem worth it.
This deal was supposed to go off without incident, but something in his bones left him unsettled; call it hustler’s intuition. As he watched his goons close the back of the truck, he clenched his teeth. He wouldn’t rest easy until he knew the deal was done and the product had arrived.
* * *
Sweat dripped from Ethic’s brow as he worked on the engine of the diesel semi. He had a full-service mechanic’s garage he could have sent the truck to, but Ethic enjoyed getting his hands dirty. After running the streets for so long, he needed something to keep him busy during his idle time. The trucking company was a seven-figure business venture that allowed him to feed his family without risking his fate, but still, he missed the pace of his old life at times. Feeling the grime of the metal and grease on his fingertips kept him from having too much idle time. The sound of Kawasaki engines revving up made Ethic look up. Headlights shone over him.
“You want to cut the lights, playboy?” Ethic asked as he grabbed a towel and wiped the oil from his hands.
“My bad, O.G.” The kid turned to lean his motorcycle on the kickstand and then motioned to the other bikers. “Yo, hit them lights, y’all.”
“What’s good, Messiah?” Ethic asked. Ethic was still in tune with the climate in the city, and this young boy was its new Messiah Hood. He was known for pulling heists and then going back to share the spoils with everybody on his block. He sometimes made it rain dollars in the streets just for fun.
“I need to chop it up with you for a moment,” Messiah said.
Ethic tossed the rag and closed the hood of the truck before leading the way into his office.
“Damn, you on some real-life blue-collar shit,” Messiah commented. “I never thought I’d see the day.”
“Blue-collar work ethic, white-collar bank account. It ain’t nothing. If you want to own the building, you got to know how to run every aspect. This is my establishment, so I’m willing to do whatever to keep it going. Ain’t no shame in legitimate money,” Ethic schooled.
“No doubt,” Messiah said as he rubbed his hands together. “I can dig that.”
Ethic gestured. “Have a seat.”
“You know I respect you, fam, so I’m going to bring this to you before I make a move. I got word there is a truck on I-80 on its way to Detroit. It’s supposedly loaded with pills, and I can’t lie, me and my niggas ready to unload that bitch,” Messiah admitted. “I just wanted to make sure it ain’t one of yours before we move on it.”
Ethic sat silently as his thoughts ran rampant. He knew it was Indie’s shipment coming from New York. He could stop things from going badly. He could tell Messiah to stand down and let the shipment come in without incident, but it was no longer his responsibility. Indie wasn’t a friend of his, therefore he owed him nothing. “No, it isn’t mine.”
“A’ight, just checking. Had to make sure I wasn’t stepping on your toes,” Messiah replied. “I’ll be through to pay taxes on that too.”
“Tax free,” Ethic replied. “As a matter of fact, every truck coming through I-80 West with New York plates is fair game.”
“Say no more. An enemy of yours is an enemy of mine. I
t’s a done deal. All love, big homie,” Messiah said. “I’m out.” They stood and locked hands before Messiah walked out the door. Ethic heard the motorcycles come to life and race off into the night, and he picked up his phone. He started to warn Zya but didn’t want to bring heat to the young boys that were targeting the truck. Zya had chosen to roll with Indie, so she would have to take the loss that was coming her way.
YaYa crossed his mind, and he scrolled to her number. Letting her go had been more of a struggle than he had anticipated. She crossed his mind often, but he tossed his phone onto the desk and shook his head, knowing that she wasn’t his to pursue.
“Vartex stocks plummeted this morning after two incidents occurred on interstate I-80 West. Two truck drivers were shot and killed in the early morning hours as they ran routine distribution routes from New York City to the Midwest.”
As Indie watched the news story, his cell phone rang. He picked it up, distracted, as his eyes never left the screen.
“Are you watching what I’m watching right now?”
It was Zya’s voice on the other end.
“Yeah,” Indie said as his jaw clenched in anger. This was on him. He had made the choice to switch distribution plans at the last minute. He had chosen the new trucking company. The loss was his fault. Zya didn’t have to tell him. Indie had let his personal feelings get in the way of business, and this was the result.
The Prada Plan 5 Page 7