Supreme Clientele

by Ashley Antoinette Snell

  I knew someone was watching on the other side of that mirror, she thought.

  Wade stared at Zya for a second and then spoke. “Yeah, you’re right. Those pictures don’t mean anything right now. But when you add these ones, they mean a lifetime sentence behind bars.” Wade tossed pictures of King lying dead on the hotel’s bed. Zya grimaced at the sight and turned her head, trying not to look at them. Zya felt the burden of King’s death on her heart, and knew that she had played a part in that brutal set-up. She flipped over the pictures and screamed, “Fuck!” She knew she was in a bad predicament.

  Zya quickly tried to defend herself. “He gave me a ride to the hotel to meet my boyfriend. I didn’t have anything to do with that murder.”

  Wade slammed his hand on the table, scaring Zya and making her jump. He was ready to cut the bullshit and expose his hidden motive.

  “Stop fucking playin’ with me, shorty. There were two sets of fingerprints found in that room. Now, I can run your prints and compare them to the ones found in the room. You and I both know what little discovery I will find. But I don’t want you. I could care less about the little hustle you got going on. I want Supreme Clientele. I want Anari Simpson.” Wade lowered his voice and continued. “Now, you have a decision to make. Do you want me to run your prints or do you want to cooperate?”

  Zya knew she was in an unfavorable position, and she couldn’t think of any possible way out of it, so she responded, “No, I don’t want you to run my prints.”

  “What do you know about Supreme Clientele?”

  “I don’t know anything. I just take their orders and serve a couple of drinks, that’s all.”

  “Where are the meetings held?”

  Zya wasn’t willing to tell Wade any good information, so she just played a part. I’m no snitch, but I guess I can just feed him some bullshit to keep him off my back.

  “They have the meetings in the front dining area.”

  “Well, I need to know everything. I want you to tell me what they say, what they do, and what they look like. Listen for names, dates, places, everything! Do you fucking hear me?”

  Just when Wade was about to speak, someone walked in the room. What Zya saw confused her. It was Buggy—not the Buggy she knew, but he was walking upright and did not have that dumb look on his face that he always had.

  Zya spoke. “Buggy?” What the hell is going on? I thought he was retarded. He’s a fuckin federali! I can’t believe this shit.

  Wade smiled and looked at Zya. “Meet Agent Matthews. He is with the FBI and is an inside informant currently working undercover. He is going to be working closely with you and—” Wade didn’t even finish his sentence before Lieutenant Jones came in.

  “Wade, let her go. Castello’s lawyer just came in and dropped nine hundred thousand, posting every single person’s bail. Ain’t that ’bout a bitch? The fucker just dropped nine hundred thousand in cold cash on the front desk,” Jones said as he shook his head side to side and placed his hands on his hips.

  “Fuck!” Wade yelled as he hit the desk. He bent over and whispered in Zya’s ear. “You have a week to tell me what you’re going to do. If you don’t cooperate, I’m going to put you away, just like I did your little boyfriend.”

  Chapter 7

  Heavy Trouble

  Zya massaged her wrists softly, trying to remove the tiny bruises that the handcuffs had caused. Castello’s lawyers had gotten all the charges against her dropped, but she was still in a bad situation.

  I can’t believe this is happening. This shit can’t be happening to me. I helped set up King because Jules needed me to. I’m so fucking stupid. I helped that nigga kill somebody, and now I’m the one who is getting ready to take the fall for it. I risked my life and freedom for him, and he couldn’t even be faithful. My loyalty to him is what got me in this situation in the first place. I have to choose between a murder charge and snitching.

  I can’t do no jail time. That shit ain’t for me, I already know I wouldn’t make it one day. But I can’t snitch either. That is the number one rule of the streets, and I would be breaking it if I did what Lonnie Wade asked me to. If I do cooperate and Supreme Clientele finds out ... I’m done.

  Zya stared out the window to her apartment and a tear slid down her face. She never expected that she would be in a position like this, and she didn’t know what to do. I can’t go to jail, she thought. I’m not built for this shit, her mind told her as she slid down against the wall and put her head in her hands. She was kicking herself for being so stupid. She had done dirt, and it seemed like karma was coming for her.

  She had known what the consequences would be if the shit ever hit the fan, but she honestly hadn’t expected to be caught. She knew the game and knew that when things got hectic you were supposed to take the jail time and keep your mouth shut; charge it to the game and keep it moving. Zya couldn’t do that, though. There was no way she was willing to do prison time for a murder that wasn’t her idea to begin with.

  It wasn’t even a part of the plan. It was only supposed to be a robbery, and now I’m sitting here thinking about how to get out of a damn murder charge that I didn’t ask to be a part of in the first place. She couldn’t believe that she had been so stupid. She had seen other girls get played by niggas before. It wasn’t odd for a dude to talk sweet in a girl’s ear just so he could use her. Zya was usually the girl who peeped game, but with Jules, she couldn’t see through the bullshit. She had been blinded by her love for him. She realized now that Jules had used her, but it was too late, the damage was already done. He had taken advantage of her loyalty and gotten her involved in something serious. No matter what she chose to do, her life was getting ready to be changed forever.

  Zya didn’t know what to do. She was stuck between a rock and a hard place. She needed an escape, a way out of the dilemma that she had been forced into. She picked up the phone and called the only person she could trust. She was scared, and her heart was pounding as she waited for him to answer his phone.

  “Hello?” Snow answered after the fifth ring.

  “I need help,” Zya whispered as she gripped the phone tightly and closed her eyes.

  He could hear the shakiness in Zya’s tone and knew that something was wrong. She was so strong and level-headed most of the time, but this time was different. Just the sound of her voice let him know that something serious had gone wrong.

  “What’s wrong, Zya?” he asked.

  Zya felt the hot tears grace her face. She hated the fact that she had lost control over her own life. Her destiny was in someone else’s hands, and the only thing she could think to do was run. I have to get out of here. I have to get out of New York. I can’t go to jail ... but I’m not a snitch either. I have no choice. I’ve got to run.

  “Zya? Zya, what’s wrong?” Snow asked, his deep voice reflecting his concern.

  “I have to get out of here. I have to leave New York,” Zya announced in a frightened tone. She got up, ran into her bedroom and frantically pulled her suitcases from underneath her bed.

  “Leave New York? Whoa, mama. Slow down and tell me what’s up.”

  Zya continued to stuff clothes into the suitcases. She knew that she wasn’t going to be able to take everything, so she tried to get the things that were most important. She ran back and forth from her dressers to her suitcase as she tried to explain herself to Snow.

  “Something happened. I killed somebody,” she began.

  “You what?” Snow exclaimed in disbelief.

  “No! It wasn’t like that. It wasn’t my fault. I got caught up in a murder after I helped Jules set up this nigga named King.”

  “Damn, Jules the one who had King hit?” he said.

  “Yeah, but we weren’t supposed to kill him. We were only going to rob him. Things got out of hand and Jules shot him.”

  “What the fuck that got to do with you?”

  “Now some detective claims he saw the entire thing. He has pictures of me going into the hotel with Ki
ng and coming out with Jules. He says that he’s going to charge me with the murder. I know me and you still got business to take care of, but right now I need to get out of town,” Zya said.

  Snow had heard about King’s murder, and now that Zya was telling him the details, it all began to make sense. He was surprised that King had been caught slipping. He was notorious in New York, and Snow was convinced that it had been a professional job. Now that Zya admitted she was involved, Snow knew what had gone down.

  Jules used Zya to get close to King. After she earned his trust, she set King up to be robbed. Whether it was planned or not, King’s trust for Zya got him killed. I just hope that I’m not getting myself into the same situation.

  “I’m on my way over. Don’t do anything until I get there. Just be cool,” he instructed. He wanted to keep Zya as calm as possible. After hearing her story, he realized that he didn’t know exactly what she was capable of doing. He would have never expected murder from the woman he had come to know. Maybe I don’t know her as well as I thought.

  Snow jumped into his car and made his way into New York. He knew that Zya was hot—she was under investigation for the murder of King—but he couldn’t stop himself from driving toward her house. She had bricks that he needed to take off her hands, but in the back of his mind, he knew it was more than business. He was drawn to Zya, and knew that he could not turn his back on her. It was something about her that he couldn’t get out of his system. He didn’t know if it was because she had made it clear that he couldn’t have her, or if he really was attracted to her. All he knew was that she was different from any woman he had ever met. On top of her beauty, she was smart and loyal.

  Her loyalty to Jules is what got her in this situation in the first place. She was ridin’ for the wrong nigga, Snow thought as he made his way to LaGuardia Airport. Ain’t no way she should have had to hustle for herself. Jules done fucked it up for every nigga now. She don’t trust nobody. I’m gon’ help her get out of town and get right, so that I know she’s straight. The way she helped me get money, I owe her this.

  Zya paced the same back and forth pattern in her apartment for three hours, waiting for Snow to arrive. He’s not coming. I got to get out of here. He ain’t gon’ show, she thought as anxiety hit her. She was scared. She had never been so afraid in her life, and she didn’t want to hang around any longer than she had to. Her bags were packed. All she needed to do was count her money and pack it up, then she could get the hell out of dodge.

  Zya pulled one of her heavy suitcases from her bedroom to her front door and was about to go get the other one when she heard a loud knock at her door. She jumped at the loud noise then crept to the peephole. Torey Snow stood on the other side of the door, and she sighed deeply, trying to calm her nerves before she opened it. She clicked the locks, opened the door, and stared into the eyes of her partner in crime. Snow could see that she had been crying. Her eyes were red and her hair, which usually flowed neatly down her back, was disheveled. Snow stepped into her home and closed the door behind him.

  “How did you get into the building? It’s supposed to be locked,” she said.

  “The door was broke. I just walked right up.”

  Zya stood toe to toe with him and said, “Thank you for coming. I’m not trying to get you involved in no hot shit. I just didn’t know who else to call.”

  Snow stared down at Zya. She looked so fragile and weak. He moved her hair out of her face. He was star struck by her beauty, and at that moment, wanted nothing more than to keep her safe.

  “I didn’t think you were coming,” Zya said as she looked down at her feet and wrapped her arms around herself.

  Snow lifted her head so that he could look in her eyes. “I don’t know what type of nigga you used to fucking with, but I do what I say I’m gon’ do. My word is bond. You can trust me.”

  Zya nodded her head as she walked to her couch. She sat down and said, “I just need to get out of here. I can’t believe I got myself into this shit.”

  “How did you get into this?” he asked, wanting to know if he was doing the right thing by helping her.

  “I was dumb. I met Jules when I was fifteen, and he basically showed me how to hustle. From the very beginning, he taught me how to cook and cut dope. He schooled me in everything. I loved him so much, I just wanted to be with him all the time. He was always in the streets, though, and the only way that I could go with him was if I was helping. So I did! I became good at hustling. I made runs for him, I cooked dope for him, and I did whatever he asked me to. I never thought about what the consequences would be. I was so dumb I didn’t realize that our relationship was nothing but business, sex, and broken promises. We never did things like normal couples. The only thing that I ever did with Jules was make money and fuck.”

  Snow sat back, listening to Zya’s story. She told the uncut version and left nothing out, admitting everything to him.

  “King began to become a problem for Jules. When King came to town, Jules lost money. That’s why he stopped copping from you for a couple months. It was because King was taking his business. One day, we were out and King tried to holla at me. Jules saw it, but he didn’t get mad like he usually did when niggas pushed up on me. He decided that I should get close to King so that I could help set him up. He asked me to get with King so that he could catch him with his guard down, and I did it, no questions asked.

  “But the night of the robbery, Jules changed the plan. He shot King because he said that he would eventually come back for us. I didn’t know that it was going to happen like that. I swear to God, Snow, I had no idea.

  “After that, Jules got nabbed and I found out I was pregnant. I went to visit him one day and some other girl was sitting up in there, nine months pregnant, talking about she was going in to see Jules. She was well taken care of while I barely had a roof over my head. He was probably cashing her out with all the money I was making for him.

  “I got the abortion the same day, and you know the rest. Now I’m here.” Zya leaned against her bar-style counter and felt like a weight had lifted off of her shoulders. She vented to Snow. It hurt to think about everything she had been through, and she couldn’t help but to let it out.

  He walked over to her and embraced her tightly. That nigga fucked her over, he thought in disbelief. He would never understand Jules’ logic. He knew about the other chicks that Jules had messed with, and they were all hoodrats that every nigga in the hood had dug out. Jules had played Zya, a girl that every nigga in the hood wished he could have.

  “Zya, I know Jules hurt you, but you got to let me in. I’m not him,” Snow said as he held her in his arms. Zya felt good in his arms. It felt like she belonged.

  Snow pulled two tickets and two booklets out of his coat pocket. He handed them to Zya. Zya read the tickets. Mexico! She looked at Snow and said, “Are you serious?” He had purchased her a one-way straight flight ticket out of the country, and had somehow gotten her a fake passport.

  “You said you wanted to get out of town,” Snow said.

  “Are you coming?” Zya asked as she held up the second ticket and raised her neatly arched eyebrows.

  Snow looked at her seriously and replied, “Do you want me to?”

  Zya did want him to. She had been feeling him for a while, but didn’t know if she could handle another relationship right now.

  “I don’t know. I just don’t want to get into the same type of situation I just got out of,” she said in a low voice.

  “Zya, I’ve been checking for you since I saw you at your girl’s house with the bricks laid out on your bed. I’m feeling you, and I ain’t about them childish games. If I’m with you, I’m gon’ be with only you. I want you to be my woman. I’m trying to make you my queen. I want to be the nigga that take care of you. No questions asked, I will give you the world. Jules was your boyfriend, Zya. I’m trying to be your man. You were built for me, Zya. Even my sister like you, and she don’t like anybody,” Snow said with a laugh.

/>   Zya had to laugh too. “Okay,” she said as she nodded and smiled.

  “Okay what?” Snow asked.

  Zya repositioned herself and straddled him. “Okay, I want you to come with me. I have been feeling you too. I was just so afraid that I might get hurt again.”

  “Do you trust me?” he asked as he stared at her with his light eyes.

  Zya nodded her head and replied, “I trust you.”

  “We gon’ get out of town for a while so that things can cool down. I’ma take care of everything. I got you, shorty. I’m not gon’ let nothing happen to you.”

  Snow’s words melted Zya, and for some reason, she believed him. I can’t deny my feelings for him. I do want to be with him, and I trust him. He won’t hurt me, she thought as she moved her face closer to his. She slid her tongue into his mouth and kissed him slowly but passionately. His hands automatically moved to her backside, and she rotated her hips against him.

  BOOM!

  At that exact moment, the wood on her door splintered as three masked men entered her apartment. One carried the sawed-off shotgun that had damaged her door, and the other two carried black guns with long noses. Snow reached for his pistol, but was unable to get to it in time. One of the intruders pulled Zya off of Snow by the hair, and another one pointed a pistol at Snow’s head.

  “Uh-uh,” the masked man said to Snow as he saw him reach for his weapon.

  The guy who had Zya pointed the gun directly in her face and said, “Open your mouth!”

  “Don’t touch her,” Snow said calmly, keeping his composure. He knew that if he panicked, he would frighten Zya, and he knew that in order to keep her safe, he had to keep her calm.

  “Nigga, you shut the fuck up!” the gunmen said.

  “Bitch, open your mouth!” Zya’s gunman yelled as he jammed the steel in her mouth, causing her lip to bust. “There you go,” the gunman said. “Just like sucking a dick.” Zya gagged from the long nose of the gun.

  The third intruder ran to the back of the house. “Yo, it ain’t no shoeboxes back here. There’s a safe!” he yelled to the front of the apartment.