The Prada Plan 5

by Ashley Antoinette

  “Why do you have to leave?” YaYa asked. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Ethic made it hard to breathe. He was just as she remembered. It wasn’t like she could forget. He consumed her dreams every night. It was a date that she looked forward to each evening when she closed her eyes. “I’ve got to get back home. I’m needed there,” Ethic said. She blinked away the emotion that threatened to expose her feelings for him.

  “You’re needed here too. More than you know,” she whispered. She thought about telling him. Right then and there. He was such a dedicated father. She knew he would be there to support her, but deep down inside, YaYa was embarrassed. She had slept with two men around the same time, and although both Indie and Ethic knew that fact, she didn’t want to remind either of them just how scandalous it was. Ethic placed her on a pedestal that she didn’t quite live up to. He would love his child, but what if it wasn’t his? Knowing her dilemma would change the way he looked at her, and she didn’t want that.

  “I miss you,” she whispered as she bit her lip. It was like she was trying to inflict pain, biting down hard to silence herself, but there was no way she could see him and not say it. He was standing too close to her, and the scent of his cologne made her self-control waver.

  “Do you?” Ethic asked.

  “Every day,” she confirmed. There was no shame in her yearning for him, no awkwardness, no concealing it, because she knew he could relate. It was his discipline that kept him a thousand miles away. His respect for her forced him to honor her. When she chose Indie he stepped away, not because he wanted to but because he could never share her. Anything pure became diluted if you added too many things to it. He didn’t want to detract from the potency of her womanhood. Despite the fact that YaYa attracted him like a moth to a flame, he kept his interest holstered.

  The space between them was electrified by a chemistry they couldn’t explain. She felt it even when he wasn’t in her proximity. With him standing this close and looking this good, it had set her ablaze. Lord knows YaYa just wanted to be with this man. Complications of life, her situation with Indie, her daughter, Ethic’s kids, all stopped her from taking a chance on him. The dream of being with him might be better than the reality, and she didn’t want to shatter that.

  “I’ve got to go, YaYa,” he said.

  She nodded sadly. “I know.” He moved toward the door.

  “Can you just stay for a little while? I know there is a line that we can’t cross, but if you walk out right now a piece of me will leave with you. I’m barely holding it together right now, and I’m embarrassed because I shouldn’t feel this way about you. You’re not my husband, you’re not my man, but still you mean so much to me. Indie’s locked up and I’m unraveling. I’m—” She almost said it. She almost told him she was pregnant, but he interrupted her.

  “You’re stronger than you think,” Ethic said, finishing her sentence. “You know what’s going to happen if I stay here, YaYa.”

  “I know,” she whispered, admitting the truth.

  “You don’t want that,” Ethic replied with a mischievous grin. “Because if we take it there, I’m going to want to keep it there this time. I’m going to want you, and you’re his. I don’t care, though. We can go there if you’re ready, but I don’t think you are. You are Helen of Troy when it comes to him and me. It’s war, and I only know one way to win a war. I would kill him, or he would kill me; both conclusions would hurt you. I don’t want that for you. I don’t want to put you in that position. I’ll risk it all, and we can do it that way, though, if that’s what you want, but I can see it in your eyes … it scares you.”

  Ethic’s intensity made the hair stand on the back of her neck. He was like a hundred-degree day that made your body sticky and your breaths shallow. He walked up on her, trapping her as he placed both hands on the wall behind her. “You want me to stay?” he asked.

  YaYa reached up to Ethic’s face. She needed to touch him to make sure he was real, to make sure this wasn’t one of her dreams, because the way she felt, it seemed he would evaporate into her mind. She was just waiting for the moment when she woke out of her sleep and realized he wasn’t really there, but that didn’t happen. He was here, in the flesh, infiltrating her soul with his stare.

  “I’m real, YaYa,” Ethic whispered, reading her thoughts. “I’m a real nigga and I love you. Do you want me to stay?” She was speechless. Completely aroused, not just physically but mentally. Ethic lifted her. YaYa wanted him more than anything she ever wanted in her life. More than a Barbie doll on Christmas, more than the Starter jacket she begged for in the fifth grade, more than the thin waistline that she never could seem to maintain, more than everything. For a moment YaYa wondered if this was the way Parker made Indie feel. Addicted. She felt like if she didn’t take a hit of this man then she would curl up and die. Was this why Parker had been able to come between them? “I’m right here. Are you right here with me? Or are you in your head thinking about him?” Ethic asked.

  YaYa removed her hands and closed her eyes, released tears that fell down her cheeks. Ethic wiped them away. “Go home, YaYa,” Ethic whispered. He kissed her forehead, and she eased by him as she rushed out of the room. When she was in the hallway, she leaned against the wall and looked to the ceiling. Ethic made her want to throw her entire life away. She wanted to gamble it all on him. He made her dizzy … actually dizzy, and she held her hands out against the wall to steady herself. YaYa took a moment to gather herself as she sniffed away the tears that threatened to expose her heart. She was filled with angst from the disappointment of not having him. She was in love with Indie, but this feeling for Ethic was different … deeper … godly. It was as natural as the rhythm of the inhale and exhale she used to calm her racing heart. If Indie was the sun around which her life revolved, then Ethic was the solar system in which the sun blazed. Its vastness encompassed everything. There were no limits to its depth. It couldn’t be measured or explored. Her want for this man was just that great. Something she couldn’t partake in because if she stopped revolving around the sun she would die. So she appreciated Ethic’s vastness from afar, despite the fact that she was so curious about what lay in his darkness. She wanted him like someone wanted air. It was a need, a necessity for life, and from the moment he had sent her back to Indie, she had felt like she had been slowly suffocating. She had been living off the memory of him, meeting him each night in her dreams. Having him here in front of her was a dangerous game. Just thinking about Ethic made her head spin.

  YaYa rushed out of the hotel and hopped into the first cab she saw, headed to the abortion clinic to get rid of a baby that might be the only connection she would ever have to the man she wished she could be with.

  13

  It seemed that the devil had brought hell to earth as hues of red and orange colored the sky. A haunting feeling filled the air as Zya stepped down off her helicopter and walked over to the abandoned car that Ethic had left behind. It was a sweltering day. It was uncharacteristically warm for September. These ninety degrees were normally reserved for summer, and sweat caused Zya’s shirt to stick to her back as she approached the car.

  She wished that Ethic’s words had affected her more. She didn’t want to hurt anyone. She wasn’t a monster, but Parker had put Zya in jeopardy. Zya had her own family, her own husband and child, to consider. If she let Parker live, there was no guarantee that she wouldn’t take the information she knew straight to the feds. Zya had evaded capture of the law for too long. Indie’s side chick wasn’t someone that Zya could gamble her freedom on. Undoubtedly, this would put a strain on her arrangement with Indie, but he was burned anyway. Now that he was on the radar of the federal government, Zya couldn’t touch him even if she wanted to. Even if he beat his case, their dealings would still cease. Beating a fed case was like thumbing your nose at authority. They would make it their business to bring him down, one way or another. It was a shame too, because Indie and Zya had made a good team, but all good things eventually came to
an end.

  Zya could have tasked Parker’s murder to any hired hand, but she wanted to feel it. She wanted to make sure she wasn’t becoming the tyrant that Ethic had accused her of being. Zya needed to make sure that underneath all that power and money, her morality hadn’t faded. She didn’t want to kill for sport. Some kingpins got high off the fact that they could play God, that they could decide who lived and who died. That’s not me, Zya thought.

  She put leather gloves on her hands and then opened the trunk. She aimed her gun only to find Parker curled up in a fetal position. Her eyes were closed, and she wasn’t breathing. Zya noticed the scratch marks on the interior of the trunk. She had clawed at it, desperate for air, until she couldn’t take it anymore. This was cruel. Her death had been slow. The heat had thickened the air and robbed her of each breath until there wasn’t anything left to do but succumb to the suffering. It was then Zya wished that this woman had still been alive. Perhaps she could have paid her off or blackmailed her into keeping quiet. It was too late for regrets, however. Zya closed the trunk and breathed a heavy sigh. Just for good measure and to make sure no miracles happened, Zya aimed her gun and fired an entire clip through the metal of the car. It was a cold world, and Zya knew that there would be a higher power to answer to one day. Karma was real, and she never knew when she might meet the exact same fate. It was the price she paid to live the life. It was the price they all paid.

  * * *

  The school day had ended over an hour ago, and King sat in the office, waiting for Parker to arrive.

  “This isn’t like your mom. Would you like to try her one more time?” his teacher asked.

  King nodded and then dialed Parker’s cell phone number, only for it to go to voicemail once again.

  “She didn’t answer,” King replied. “I can call my grandma.”

  “No, I’m afraid we can’t release you to anyone except your mom or your father. They are the only two people listed on your enrollment card.”

  King flopped back down as impatience filled his young bones. He was eager for Parker to arrive. They were supposed to see his father today, and he was anxious to check on him.

  Hours passed, and an unsettling pit formed in his stomach. He slouched against the wall in the office. He didn’t have the type of mother that would forget about him. If she wasn’t here, something was wrong, and when he saw the uniformed police officer enter the school, he stood.

  “King, you’re going to go with this officer. They are going to help you find your mother, okay?” said the school principal.

  King nodded and snatched his book bag off the floor.

  “Hi, son—”

  “I’m not your son,” King replied. He had a chip on his shoulder. The cops had taken his father away. They weren’t his allies, they didn’t want to protect and serve him. Cops made his life chaotic. They took away the one man he loved before he even got a chance to truly get to know him.

  “Okay, kid. Let’s go find your mother. Does she have a history with drugs? Or alcohol?” the officer asked as he placed a hand on King’s shoulder.

  “My mother is a professor!” King said as he snatched away from the police.

  He followed the cop to his squad car, and instead of the front, the cop placed him in the back. “Get used to the view, kid. That’s where you all end up one day.”

  King’s feelings were crushed. His mother was MIA, and this cop was not his friend. He had never realized how much his mother made him feel safe. She reassured him. She kept him away from a world that viewed him as a threat, but all of a sudden he felt a void. The bond between a mother and son was strong enough for King to feel that something was awry. He didn’t know that Parker was dead, but he felt something. His universe was off-kilter, disrupted, and the instinct that his mother had taught him to always listen to was warning him that his world was about to change. They pulled up to the police precinct, and the cop led him to a holding cell.

  “Wait in here. When we hear something about your mother, we’ll come get you,” the cop said. He pushed King into the steel cage, and King’s eyes started to tear. Fear filled him. The cop had taken off the kid gloves and was treating him like a suspect in a crime. King hoped his mother walked through the door soon to take him home, but as he gripped the metal bars and stared at the room full of officers, he knew that she wasn’t coming. He was on his own in a cold world, left to fend for himself.

  14

  Fear. That’s what YaYa felt as she lay on the cold exam table and the doctor placed an IV in her arm. The bright fluorescent lights illuminated the room, but still YaYa felt like she was enveloped in darkness. Her legs shook as the doctor checked her cervix.

  “Try to relax,” the doctor said. YaYa took a deep breath but knew that it was a futile attempt. How could she relax? She was about to let them suck the life out of her. She had walked into this clinic with two hearts beating inside of her body and would emerge with only one. This abortion would change her. She felt it, but still logic convinced her that this was the right thing to do. “Are you sure about your decision to terminate?”

  YaYa nodded.

  “You’re trembling, sweetheart,” the woman said. She withdrew her instruments from YaYa’s womb and removed her rubber gloves. “You know, I’ve been doing this for a long time, and I can always tell when a woman has nerves. There is a difference between being afraid and being unsure.”

  The doctor adjusted YaYa’s exam table so that she was now sitting up.

  “This is something that you can’t take back once you go through with it. Maybe we should reschedule. Give yourself a week or two to think about it. You will only be fourteen weeks by then. You will still have the option to terminate if you so choose.”

  “If I have this baby, it will destroy my marriage,” YaYa said. “Even more than it already is ruined. I don’t even know if I have a marriage that’s worth saving, but having this baby will make my husband hate me and make him love her more. The father of this baby…” YaYa paused as she pictured Ethic in her mind. “Ethic is kind, so strong, but I can’t do this with him. It’s too hard. I love him, but it’s just too many obstacles standing in our way.”

  “I understand all of those things. I want you to consider yourself for a moment, only what you want. Don’t make this decision for one man or the other. Make it for you. Lots of mothers raise their children alone,” the doctor said.

  “I can’t. I’m not strong enough for that,” YaYa replied.

  “Every mother I’ve ever met is strong enough for that,” the doctor replied.

  Uncertainty rested in YaYa’s eyes as tears flooded her.

  “Let’s just get this over with. I’m sure. I want to do it today,” she whispered.

  She covered her face with her hands as the doctor laid the exam table flat. Tears leaked out of the sides of YaYa’s eyes as she sniffed loudly, her shoulders shaking as she cried. This was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do. God, please help me through this, she prayed. She knew that she was wrong for asking God to help her manage the pains of her sin, but she had no one else to turn to. YaYa didn’t even have anyone to drive her home afterward. It was something she would deal with in solitude. It was a grief she didn’t choose to share.

  “Can you put me to sleep?” YaYa asked.

  The doctor came to her side and looked down on her with empathy. “It isn’t necessary. We can give you a local anesthesia—”

  “Please,” YaYa insisted. She didn’t want to be awake for it. She didn’t want to have any memory of this act. She was killing love. Despite the circumstances, one thing was certain; she had loved Ethic with all her being. This baby was made from the most passionate sentiment she had ever felt. She was aborting a product of something special. In a world where so many people craved love, she was expelling it from her body, casting it off as if it wasn’t a rare gift.

  The doctor placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Okay, Mrs. Perkins. If that’s what you prefer.”

  She
placed an oxygen mask over YaYa’s mouth and said, “I’m going to take you under slowly. Just relax.”

  YaYa felt the tension leaving her body, but the sorrow remained in her heart. Her eyelids felt heavy, as if the sandman himself were pulling them down, or maybe it was the devil. Only he would encourage such a selfish act. Within minutes, everything disappeared. For a little while she could not feel anything. Mentally, emotionally, physically, she could rest.

  * * *

  It was a struggle, being a moral man. Ethic had always struggled with balancing between his wants and his needs. It was the reasoning he had used to leave YaYa the first time. He wanted her. He desired her more than he desired anyone or anything in a long time. He didn’t like how YaYa changed him. She made him feel, and for a man that had hardened himself to avoid pain, that was a scary thing. He was uncomfortable with the way YaYa affected him. So although he wanted her, he knew he didn’t need her, so he had left her for the game, for the next man to marry. Still, he thought of her often, and seeing her had only picked the scab off his wounded heart. He had to get out of New York, because if he stayed, he would not be able to stop himself from interjecting himself in YaYa’s life.

  Ethic handed the TSA agent his plane ticket; he wished he were a man of little character. He wished he were the type of nigga to enjoy her on the side, in the comfort of four walls that had no way of telling what went on between them. He wished he could take advantage of her body without wanting to explore her mind. He was walking away from her again, and the second time was ten times harder than the first. He could tell by the look in YaYa’s eyes that she wasn’t happy, and leaving her that way had him twisted inside. He wasn’t the captain of her heart and he had no track record for saving women who couldn’t save themselves, but YaYa was a source of light in his dark world.

  He had made the mistake of wasting time with his first love, Raven. He had denied her one too many times, he had ignored her love for him often and had neglected to make her his woman despite her many attempts to be just that. All of those moments had been time that he could have loved her, memories they could have shared. So when she died, Ethic was left with chunks of time that he had missed out on by choice. He felt himself making the same mistake with YaYa.