“I’ll make it easier for you with YaYa. I’ll sit down with her and have a real conversation,” Parker said.
“I’m forever indebted to you, P,” Indie answered with a smile.
A loud knock at the door caused Parker to jump. “Are you expecting somebody?” Indie asked.
She shook her head in alarm as another set of knocks thundered against the door. This time they heard a voice. “FBI! Open up!”
“Fuck,” Indie whispered. “Go in the room and make sure King doesn’t see this.”
“See what? Why are they here? What is going on?” she asked. Before Indie could answer, the door was knocked off the hinges, and Agent Thompson and his men entered unapologetically.
Indie held up his hands so that it was clear he wasn’t resisting and gritted his teeth as they manhandled him for no reason. He wanted to buck against them, to spit in their faces and call them pigs, to disrespect them, but he didn’t. He was trying to retain his right to breathe, his right to live. He didn’t want to be the next black man that ended up on a Black Lives Matter campaign, so instead of standing up for his rights he let them misuse their authority.
“Get off of him! What did he do? Why are you arresting him?” Parker asked.
The pinch of the handcuffs on his wrists made him feel like property. The feds wanted to enslave him, to turn him into another number behind their penitentiary walls. He saw King’s face as he came out of his room, rubbing his eyes.
“Dad?” King called out, fear lacing his tone as he looked on in horror as the federal agents infiltrated his home.
“Everything is okay, King. Be brave and go back into your room. Don’t come out until your mama come get you,” Indie said.
King hesitated. A bewildered look covered his face. Indie could see the fear. “King, go into your room. Now,” Indie commanded. This time his son did exactly as he was told.
“What do you want me to do? Who should I call?” Parker asked frantically as the agents dragged him out of her home.
“Just take care of my son. Don’t call anybody. Everything will be fine,” Indie assured her.
Indie took the walk of shame to the unmarked car that was waiting curbside. He knew the agents must have followed him from holding to Parker’s house as they waited for their arrest warrant to come down. Einstein had told him not to worry, but as they stuffed him in the backseat, he couldn’t help but think that he was about to meet an inevitable fate. Indie had maneuvered in the streets for a long time with no repercussions. Most of the people he had started in the game with were long gone. They had either been sent upstate to live their days behind concrete and steel bars or sent to the heavens. He had thought he was a rare winner. Indie had hoped his transition into Vartex would be a smooth one, but the robbery had put a spotlight on his back. He could feel the walls closing in on him.
For a black man there was no fear greater than the fear of being locked up. It was like being back on the auction block, stripped of everything; no dignity, no pride. Indie’s freedom was at stake and he would fight like hell to maintain it, but somehow he knew that it was over. The jig was up. He had moved without penalty for too long. He had gotten rich through ill-gotten means. They were coming to take all of it back, and it wasn’t until this moment that Indie finally realized, none of his riches, none of the power, none of the risks, had been worth it. But this moment of clarity had come too late.
He would have to put his future in the hands of a system that sought to suppress him. He had only aided in their condemnation of him. Indie had chosen the streets and by doing so, had given them the smoking gun to murder him with. This was the cycle that a black man didn’t understand. It was a thought that hit him as soon as they shackled him. He was the state’s property, and he wouldn’t retain his identity unless they felt like letting him go. Indie prayed that the money he had invested in Einstein paid off because it was the only way he was ever going to come home to his family again.
* * *
“Where are they taking my dad?” King asked as he tried to bolt for the door.
“No, go back to your room,” Parker said as she grabbed King by the shoulders, holding him back. She tried to keep her tone calm, but she was frantic. This was the reason why Parker had left Indie alone all those years ago. She never understood the allure of the streets, and Indie had been so insistent on being a part of them.
“Ma! What happened? Why did they take him?” King asked.
“I don’t know!” she shouted. She caught herself as she pinched the bridge of her nose. She paced back and forth, then suddenly walked over to her son, pulling him into her arms. “He’s going to be fine. This is just a misunderstanding. Go in your room and get some rest. You have school in the morning. I’m going to take care of your father. I promise.”
King skeptically obeyed, and Parker waited until he was inside his room before she rushed to get her phone. Indie had told her not to do anything, but she couldn’t just sit there.
The sound of a ringing phone erupted throughout her home. She frowned in confusion because she was grasping her silent phone in her hand. She looked around until she found Indie’s suit jacket hanging on the back of a chair. Her breath caught in her throat. There was something about having access to a man’s phone, even in these circumstances; ill thoughts crossed her mind as she fished in his inner pocket. To her surprise she found two phones. The first one rang again and again. A picture of YaYa flashed on the screen. Parker knew that she should answer it. YaYa had a right to know what was going on with Indie. He was her husband, but Parker felt a bit of satisfaction that at the moment, she knew something about Indie that YaYa had yet to learn. Parker wanted to be the one calling the shots tonight, even if only for a little while. She sent YaYa to voicemail and then opened Indie’s messages. There was nothing peculiar. Business texts and an entire thread between him and YaYa. Reading how often they exchanged I love you made Parker’s insides twist in jealousy. She put the phone down and then opened the one that sat unexplored. She knew her intrusion was unwelcome, but curiosity wouldn’t allow her to put it down. She was met by a passcode screen.
“What code would you use to lock your phone?” Parker asked. She typed in every combination she could think of. Indie’s birthday, Elaine’s birthday, the last four numbers in his social security number, his old address. She was going for broke trying to figure it out. “It probably has something to do with your bitch of a wife,” Parker whispered as she continuously attempted to crack the mystery.
It vibrated in her hand, and a text message appeared on the screen.
Meet me tomorrow night midnight. The usual spot.
—Z
“Who is Z?” Parker asked with a frown. She inspected the message, noticing the odd number that it originated from. “This isn’t local. This doesn’t even look American. Who the fuck is this, and why is the FBI barging in here for you, boy?”
She had studied abroad enough to know that this country code indicated a foreign number. She hurriedly grabbed her laptop and opened it. She typed the number into a Google search bar. “Italy?” she said. The number didn’t pull up a name, but it gave her a location. “What the fuck, Indie?” she whispered. Desperate to get into the phone now, she entered every combination she thought he would use until finally she got it right. He uses my birthday, she thought. It made her smile. She opened up his call log and noticed the same foreign number called him every day at the same time with precision. She didn’t know exactly what puzzle pieces she had in her hand, but she would bet her life that once she put them together, she would find the source of Indie’s troubles.
7
YaYa was tired of this. Her patience was running thin. Nights like these were happening too often for her tastes. She laid on her side, cover pulled up to her chin, as the TV watched her because she for damn sure wasn’t paying attention to it. Her eyes were focused on the clock on the wall. It was damn near morning, and Indie wasn’t home. Their relationship seemed to be failing miserably. Wh
at had once felt so natural for her now felt forced.
Truth was, YaYa knew how to be Disaya Morgan. She had no idea who Mrs. Perkins was. Her marriage vows had put a pressure on her that was making her weak, and clearly the transition was tough for Indie as well.
He hasn’t called, no text, he has completely lost his mind if he thinks this is going to fly with me, she thought. He was playing a dangerous game with Zya, but still, to fall off the grid completely was unacceptable. What was the point of a legit situation at a legit company if he was still keeping illegitimate hours? It didn’t make sense, and it was all beginning to sound like bullshit to YaYa.
This is why that bitch Parker is an issue. Every time he’s late, any time things don’t quite add up, I’m going to think he is with her. I’m driving myself crazy, she thought. Trust was lacking between YaYa and Indie. The past had done too much damage for them to pretend like everything was fine. She didn’t want to worry when it came to his allegiance. She didn’t want to doubt the man she had given her life to. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Not with Indie. He was making her physically sick. Eating and sleeping had become a notion of the past. Parker’s presence in their lives threatened the very foundation that their marriage was built on. Even when she could think of logical excuses why he would be this late, her mind always ventured back to the possibility that he was sound asleep in another woman’s bed while she was up, tortured at the thought of it. This entire situation was turning her into someone she didn’t recognize. Never ever in the history of her being had she stressed over a man in this way. She found herself going through pockets and checking his phone. She was losing her mind waiting to catch him up, waiting to prove that he wasn’t keeping true to the vow he had made. With Leah she had feared physical harm. She had guarded herself against a crazy woman who wanted her life. In this scenario, YaYa felt like the illogical one. He was reducing her to insanity. She couldn’t even confirm her suspicions, which made YaYa think it was all in her mind, as if her insecurities were getting the best of her.
The doorbell rang, and YaYa’s heart clenched in anticipation as she sat up. Wrapping the blanket around her body, she stood and then went to answer it. When she looked at the security screen on the wall, she froze.
Suddenly her notions of cheating and scandal went out the window.
Federal agents stood on her porch. It wasn’t that Indie wasn’t coming home, he couldn’t come home, and these men at her door were the cause of it. Alarm pulsed through her as she thought of what Indie might have inside their home. The thought was quickly dismissed, however; Indie would never put her at risk by soiling their family home. She thought about not answering, but the persistent way the agents were ringing her doorbell let her know that they were coming in whether she approved or not.
YaYa rushed back to the couch and grabbed her cell phone, immediately dialing Indie’s attorney.
“This is Disaya Perkins. There are ten federal agents outside my home, waiting to get in. Indie isn’t home, so I’m assuming they have him in custody. I need to know what to do here. Please give me a call back immediately. If not, you will have an irate woman storming into your office first thing in the morning,” YaYa said. She was trying her best to stay calm.
“Mrs. Perkins! We know you’re in there! If you don’t open the door we will forcibly enter!”
YaYa rushed up the stairs and into Indie’s office. She didn’t know exactly what they were looking for, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for them to build a case. She grabbed every loose paper that covered the desk and then opened Indie’s safe; she grabbed the money and the paperwork that was inside there as well before carrying it into Skylar’s room. She grabbed an overnight bag and placed all the contents inside, covering it with clothing. She hurriedly kicked on a pair of jeans and then grabbed her sleeping daughter from her bed.
“Mommy?” Skylar called out, confused.
“Shhh, go back to sleep, baby girl. We’re just going to go for a little ride,” YaYa said.
She flung the bag over her shoulders and struggled to carry Skylar’s dead weight as she headed for the back door. She peeked out, saw that there were no agents, and took a deep breath, calming herself before she ventured out into the night. She closed the door behind her, and the cool air caused Skylar to lift her head off YaYa’s shoulder.
“Mommy? Where are we going?” she asked.
“Shhh,” YaYa whispered. “I need you to be a really big girl for me right now.” YaYa placed Skylar on her bare feet and then tossed the bag over the fence into the yard of the house that sat directly behind her own. Adrenaline fueled her. She didn’t know why the men had come to their home, but the fact that she couldn’t reach Indie let her know that she didn’t want to face them. She needed to know what she was walking into. She had no idea what they were even looking for, but she took no chances. “Get on my back, baby,” she said. Skylar did as she was told, and YaYa moved a garbage can over to the fence. “Hold on tight,” YaYa whispered. “It’s just a game. We’re playing hide-and-seek, so you have to be quiet, okay?”
“Okay, Mommy,” Skylar replied. YaYa grabbed the wooden fence, stepped on top of the garbage can, and climbed over into the next yard.
YaYa reached for the bag but was startled when one of the agents shone a light through the fence, spotting her. “There’s someone back here!” One of the agents reached through the fence and grabbed ahold of the bag. She tried to pull it free from the other side, but struggling for control of the bag was useless. She let it go, sending the officer stumbling, and she took off running toward the street. The extra weight from carrying Skylar slowed her down, but she didn’t stop until she was a few blocks away from her home. She caught the first cab she saw and headed straight for Elaine’s.
“Go back to sleep, baby girl,” YaYa whispered. She laid her daughter on her lap and stroked her hair as she tried to calm her racing heart.
It was dawn by the time she made it to Jersey, and trouble stirred within her. This was bad. It got no worse than this. She stalled the cabbie and exited the car. Her first priority was making sure that Skylar was safe. YaYa couldn’t move around like she needed to with her daughter on her coattail. YaYa rang the bell. She had no idea what she would tell Elaine. YaYa didn’t want to alarm Indie’s mother before knowing all the facts.
“YaYa? What in the world? Is everything okay?” Elaine asked as she answered the door wearing a housecoat and slippers.
“Um, yeah, of course,” YaYa said. “Can you keep Sky for a little bit? There’s something I have to handle.”
“YaYa? It’s six in the morning,” Elaine said in confusion.
“I know,” YaYa replied. “It’s important, Elaine. You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t.”
Elaine wanted to push, but didn’t. She opened her arms and YaYa passed Sky to her.
“Is it Indie?” Elaine asked.
“I don’t know anything yet. I think he could be in trouble, but I don’t want to panic you. I’ll let you know when I know something,” YaYa replied. “I need to borrow some money for the cab.”
Elaine nodded. “Come inside. I’ll grab my purse. Just let me lay Skylar down.” YaYa followed her inside and watched as she tucked Sky in comfortably on the couch. Elaine grabbed her handbag and reached inside, taking out all of the money she had. “This is all I have on me. If you need more—”
“I don’t,” YaYa said as she took it. “This is enough.”
“He’s my son, YaYa,” Elaine said with teary eyes. “The only one I have left. Is there something I need to know?’
“As soon as I hear something, I’ll call you, Lai. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m going to find out,” YaYa promised.
* * *
YaYa took the cab back to her house, only to find agents everywhere. They seemed to be tearing her house apart.
“Keep driving,” YaYa instructed as she ducked down low in the cab. She couldn’t reach Indie. His phone was going directly to voicemail now, and YaY
a knew there was only one place to go for answers.
Einstein’s office was still closed when she arrived, but she waited in the lobby of the high-rise building. She paced back and forth, distraught and completely unnerved. Men and women in expensive suits passed by her until finally she saw Einstein enter the building. When YaYa saw who walked by his side she froze.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” YaYa asked.
Her presence was an obvious surprise. “Mrs. Perkins?”
“That’s right. Mrs. Perkins. Unless you’ve forgotten?” YaYa accused.
She looked at Parker in disgust. “Why the fuck are you here?” YaYa screamed it this time. She was seeing red. YaYa felt like ripping Parker’s eyes out of her head. Parker stood in front of her in her Gucci dress and Valentino heels, with her normally curly hair straightened sleekly, while YaYa was half dressed in a crop top T-shirt and jeans. Her hair was uncombed, her face bare, her eyes swollen from crying, and it felt like Parker could see right through her.
“Can we please take this up to my office?” Einstein suggested. The tension between the two women was evident. The last thing he wanted was a scene in the middle of Midtown.
“There is no reason for her to take this anywhere. She isn’t welcome here. Whatever is going on with Indie doesn’t concern her,” YaYa said.
“I’m afraid it does, Mrs. Perkins. He was arrested at her home late last night, and I need to know her account of what happened,” Einstein said.
The revelation that Indie had been with Parker felt like death. It confirmed everything she had been feeling, everything she had been trying to convince herself not to believe. Indie had made her look like a fool, and as Parker stood smugly in front of her, YaYa’s blood boiled.
The Prada Plan 5 Page 9