Love & War

by Ashley Antoinette

Parker nodded her head and said, “Yeah, it probably is . . . for the girls in short skirts and six-inch heels.”

  “But not enough for you?” Indie asked.

  His question threw her off-guard as her mouth fell open but no words came out. She and Indie weren’t in the same league. He was the cool kid. The dope boy. He was the one that all the girls wanted. Guys like you aren’t attracted to girls like me, she thought.

  “Indie . . .” Her head fell as she looked down, unsure of how to respond. A guy like Indie could derail all of her plans for greatness. He was handsome and distracting and . . . He lowered his head as well until their foreheads met.

  “You want to make me a bet?” he asked.

  “Huh?” she responded, confused.

  “If I get an A on this bullshit-ass test we been losing sleep over, you have to let me take you out,” Indie said.

  “What? Indie, where is this coming from?” she asked.

  “You make me see things differently, P. I never thought I’d care about grades or college or none of that bullshit but because it’s important to you, it’s become important to me. You have become important to me,” he said.

  She paused as she thought of what he was saying. He had no reason to game her . . . or to lie. “I’m not your type,” she replied.

  “And that’s what I like about you,” he answered. He stood to his feet and shrugged on his jacket. “If I get an A?” he asked.

  “If you get an A,” she responded with a smile.

  Indie stopped by his house to take a quick shower before he headed to school and as soon as he stepped foot inside he smelled his mother’s cooking. He rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a piece of bacon as he kissed his mother’s cheek.

  “What’s up, Ma?” he greeted as he headed up to his room.

  “Don’t ‘what up, Ma’ me, Indie Perkins,” she said sternly. “Where you been most nights?”

  “I been staying at Nanzi’s crib,” he lied. She knew nothing of his street exploits and she certainly didn’t know that he had an apartment in his name where he allowed Parker to reside.

  “Lie number one. You tell another one and I’m going to put my foot in your ass,” she said.

  “I was up late, Ma, studying with a friend,” he admitted.

  “And the night before that?” she grilled.

  “Studying,” he shot back.

  “Hmm, hmm, studying my ass,” she replied. “Why don’t you bring her by the house one of these days. I’d like to meet the little fast-tail girl who has my son’s nose wide open.”

  “Never that,” he answered. “I’ll bring her by, Ma. Don’t worry. You’ll like her. She’s a good girl!” he shouted as he darted up the steps. He showered and swapped clothes before he was back out the door.

  School felt so remedial to him. As he walked through the halls everyone around him seemed so much younger than him. Hustling had aged him. He had no interest in the shallow comings and goings of the average high school student. Indie was motivated by paper and, most recently, by Parker. She was the only reason he had even shown up. As he found his way to his class he heard his name being called from the other end of the hall.

  “Oh shit, Indie my nigga!”

  Indie cringed. Never the one to grandstand Indie would rather fly under the radar than have his presence announced to the world. He turned to find his friend Bay walking toward him, flaunting a pretty cheerleader type on his arm.

  They slapped hands and embraced briefly as Indie looked left, then right.

  “Relax, nigga, you ain’t on the block. What’s good, baby?” Bay greeted.

  “Shit, I’m in and out my nigga. I just came to take this history test,” Indie admitted.

  “Show up enough to keep moms off your ass?” Bay retorted.

  Indie smirked. “Something like that.”

  Bay reached into his back pocket and pulled out a slip of paper. He handed it to Indie.

  “What’s this?” he asked.

  “The answers to Chatman’s test, bro. Thank me later,” Bay said. Bay patted him on the back as the first bell rang. “Get with me. I want to talk to you about some real shit.”

  Indie knew that nothing was for free. Bay had looked out because he wanted Indie to put him on. He could take these answers and get the for-sure A to impress Parker, or he could trust himself and try to accomplish it on his own. He looked up and caught a glimpse of Parker as she made her way down the hall. She didn’t even look his way but just the sight of her caused his hand to ball the paper in his hands up. Parker was something that he wanted to earn. If he was going to get her, he didn’t want to cheat. This wasn’t about the grade. He could feel it in his soul that Parker Banks was supposed to be in his life and as he made his way into his class he realized it was up to him to prove it. He didn’t want to hustle his way into her heart and even though school felt like a waste of his time, he wanted to show her that he wasn’t a waste of hers.

  Chapter 14

  Chase slid his finger behind his tie to loosen it a bit as he frowned while stepping on the elevator. I hate this for show shit, he thought as he stepped to the back and positioned himself against the wall. On the way to the top floor the elevator would undoubtedly fill and he needed eyes on everyone he shared the short ride with. Vartex Enterprises was one of the leading pharmaceutical companies in the world and now that Indie held a ten percent stake in it they were moving into new territory. “Growth,” was what Indie called it, but Chase was a street nigga through and through. It didn’t please him to have to get suited just to visit his mans, but he knew that he couldn’t jeopardize Indie’s new position by coming in looking like riffraff. To even step foot inside the Wall Street corporate monster Chase had to play the part and perfect the role. Even with the monkey suit Chase still stood out like a sore thumb. The color of his skin alone made him feel like an outsider. He could feel the silent stare of curiosity as the men around him wondered how he had even gotten in the building. Indie had stepped his game all the way up. He was about that corporate dollar now and he now had the means to the most potent of prescription pills. He wasn’t feeling the new wave that was coming through their camp, simply because it took him out of his element. He was much more comfortable in trap houses and true religions than he was stuffed into the thousand dollar suits. A nigga barely got room for the burner in this tight shit, Chase said as he shook his leg while pulling on his pant leg, hoping that the people around him didn’t notice the bulge from his nine milli.

  As the elevator stopped on each floor, men filed in like sardines, each of them taking a second glance at Chase before turning their backs on him to face the front. When it finally stopped on his floor Chase emerged and made his way to Indie’s new office.

  “Hi, Mr. . . .”

  This nigga got a receptionist and everything, Chase thought as a smirk spread across his face and he cut off the slim brunette who was eyeing him with flirtation in her eyes.

  Indie would kill me if I gave her the D.

  His thoughts amused him as he stared at the attractive woman intensely. “No mister. You can call me Chase,” he said as he held out his hand. The woman shook it softly as her thumb rubbed the top of his hand.

  “Nice to meet you, Chase. They are waiting on you,” she said.

  They? he thought as his brow furrowed in confusion and he followed her into the office. Impressed was an understatement. Indie’s new seat on the shareholders board allowed him all of the perks of the company. His office was lavish. Floor-to-ceiling windows gave him the perfect view from the fortieth floor, while all the finest furnishings filled the space inside.

  “Mr. Perkins, your final guest has arrived,” the woman announced.

  Indie nodded and replied, “Thank you, Emma. Please close the door on your way out.”

  Chase looked at the man who sat across from Indie and immediately stiffened. He didn’t welcome strangers easily. Trust was earned in his book and if he didn’t fuck with you he didn’t fuck with you. Period. He walked
up on Indie and embraced him genuinely, giving him the universal sign of love as they slapped hands and then pulled in briefly for a pat on the back. He spoke no words to Indie’s guest as he took a seat, scooting his chair over slightly to give himself some space.

  “You can put your guard down, fam, this is an associate of mine. Chase, Ethic. Ethic, Chase,” he introduced.

  Chase shook Ethic’s hand reluctantly. He wasn’t about the new faces. He trusted Indie wholeheartedly but they were all grown men. Just because Indie rocked with Ethic didn’t mean that Chase had to. Ethic would need much more than an introduction to get Chase to lower his guard. He understood the game they were playing in. Many new niggas had been responsible for crumbling drug empires. Hell it was hard to even trust the ones he knew so to accept Ethic with no qualms was damn near impossible.

  He wouldn’t protest, but he would be extremely careful about the situation in the meantime.

  “How did that trip go?” Chase asked.

  “Very good,” Indie responded. “I called you both here today so that I could acquaint you two and to get the ball rolling. We’re moving into pharmaceuticals and Ethic has the means to help us move the product across state lines.”

  “What about all of our current clientele? If we pull out without notice I can foresee problems,” Chase said.

  “Niggas don’t want my type of problems,” Indie replied unfazed.

  “Mine either,” Ethic added.

  “Yeah, I hear you, but I want you to hear me, bro. I get your position. You’re in a different place. You have the whole family, wife and kid set-up, big homie, so you need something more than what this coke game has to offer. I’m young and thuggin’ it though, fam, and I’m in the streets. I’m in the trap and on the blocks. If we leave the streets dry niggas is going to feel a certain type of way. On top of that you gon’ have ten different niggas trying to be the new Scarface of the city. We good money with the hard and soft. From weight to the hand to hands our operation is pumping. These pills, I don’t know much about that game. That’s that white money. I know how to move bricks but I don’t know much about all of this,” Chase said as he motioned to the elaborate décor of Indie’s office.

  “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to transition out of cocaine slowly,” Ethic said, after weighing Chase’s words. “That way things are done peacefully and you have a hand in choosing who takes your reign.”

  “I’ve groomed you from day one, Chase. I don’t want to make the move into this new realm without you, my nigga. I see the future in this pharmaceutical thing, my baby, and it’s bright,” Indie said.

  “I’m here, bro. Whatever you need. Just don’t make me hand over everything I’ve worked for to the next nigga. You want to appoint a new king at least give me a shot at taking the throne. There’s money to be made on all fronts,” Chase said.

  Indie paused as he sat back in his leather executive chair in deep contemplation. “Get Trina back up here from Houston. Miesha’s coming home soon. The three of you will fuck with the coke. Ethic and I will handle the pills. When you’re ready to transition you let me know. Eventually I want everyone, all of us, to be on this side of the game. Cocaine is a minority business. Its riskier, more dangerous . . . the Feds are just waiting to lock us all up and we hand ’em the keys by staying in the game long after we should. You get what I’m saying?”

  “Absolutely,” Chase confirmed. “I’ll say good-bye to it before I let it ruin me.”

  “Smart man,” Ethic commented. He stood to his feet and extended love to Indie as they slapped hands. “Let me know when you’re ready to move.”

  He nodded toward Chase in acknowledgment. He felt the cold shoulder and had honestly anticipated it. Young niggas had egos the size of Texas. He remembered that he used to be the same way. “I recognize your gangster, fam, you ain’t got to flaunt it. My resume is official though, my nigga. Official,” Ethic reiterated seriously, letting Chase know that if it was beef he needed to put it on the table. He turned toward Indie and said, “Chemistry huh?”

  Indie nodded, knowing that the team he assembled needed to be just that . . . a team.

  “Understood,” Indie answered. “Everything’s smooth. Just got to work out the kinks between you two mu’fuckas.”

  “No kinks,” Chase spoke up. “Just cautious.”

  “Why don’t we move the setting to something more relaxed? I need both of you to comfortably make this move. I’ll have the wife make dinner and we’ll all break bread. Sound good?” Indie proposed.

  Ethic nodded and made his exit. Once he was gone Chase piped up. “You know how I feel about niggas I’on know, fam,” he said. “Fuck this nigga think he is. Ethic? How unoriginal is that shit? He couldn’t think of no better name than that? He had to look up a known gangster and bite his shit?”

  Indie smirked and replied, “Nah, li’l homie, you got it fucked up. That nigga is ‘the’ Ethic. No copycat. That’s him in the flesh.”

  The look on Chase’s face was priceless and Indie chuckled slightly. “How that foot taste, bro?”

  “Man, fuck that nigga!” Chase said jokingly as he laughed too. “Damn, bro, you couldn’t warn me or nothing? Fuck! Now I’ve got to make that shit one hundred next time I see him.”

  “Nah, you’re good. If you hopped in his lap too quickly he wouldn’t have respected it. You played it how I would have played it. We good money. Just be there tomorrow night. Tell Miesha. Dinner and drinks and get Trina’s ass back to the city too. Fuck she at anyway?”

  “She’s in Houston. I’ll make sure she’s around,” Chase replied. Indie saw him out and then made his way to his window. He literally sat above the city and being up so high made the game look small. He was about to move into bigger things.

  Chapter 15

  “Daddy!” Sky’s jovial voice filled the house as she ran full speed toward the front door. Like clockwork, whenever she heard keys jiggle in the lock she automatically knew who to expect. YaYa smiled as she moved around the kitchen like a pro. She could have hired a chef to cater the impromptu dinner but cooking relaxed her. It had been so long since she had felt normal that when Indie called her with the idea she happily obliged. She hadn’t seen him since he had left for Italy so she hadn’t had a chance to inform him of her run-in with Parker. As soon as he had come back into the country he had headed straight to Vartex. Now that he was home and they were expecting guests she didn’t think it was the time to address his baby mama drama. YaYa knew one thing, however. She hated Parker and everything she represented. If it hadn’t been for Skylar she would have slapped the smug expression off of her face. Yes, a conversation was definitely necessary and it would be had, but not tonight.

  “Hey, ma, you miss me?” Indie asked as he appeared in the threshold of the kitchen.

  “I did,” she replied vaguely as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He leaned down and kissed her lips.

  “Do you know how much I love you?” he asked, truly meaning it. His love for her had never been in question. The problem was that he had been tricked out of loving Parker instead of making the choice himself. Now that he knew the truth, that old thing was starting to spark inside of his chest. He had to remind himself to keep the fire at bay. His loyalty was with YaYa or at least he hoped it was. No part of him wanted to hurt her, but it seemed as if life was inevitably delivering pain . . . he just had to decide which woman’s doorstep it would be dropped on.

  “Indie, we need to talk,” she whispered. “Not tonight because I don’t want to ruin the mood, but—”

  “I know,” he said. He kissed her one more time before Skylar ran up to her, hanging on her leg as she squeezed her little body in between them.

  “Together!” she screamed happily, melting her parents’ hearts.

  They shared a family hug and Indie bent to scoop Skylar in her arms. It was one of those moments when everything felt right despite the fact that they were horribly wrong.

  Ding! Dong!

  The doorbell interrupted
them.

  “Dinner is ready. I just have to transfer the food to serving dishes. All the guests can start to sit,” she said.

  “Can you grab the door while I put Skylar down for bed?” he asked.

  She nodded and slipped into her Valentino cobalt spiked heels. She removed her apron and placed it atop her kitchen island then smoothed out her designer dress. For the first time she was playing wifey instead of being active in Indie’s operation. She wasn’t the boss. She wasn’t building her power for a plot of revenge. She was simply the hostess, the pretty girl on her man’s arm, and it felt good. She couldn’t help but wonder how long the feeling would last with Parker in the background playing sabotage. Fucking bitch, she thought.

  Ding! Dong!

  “I’ve got it, Ma,” Indie said, reappearing as he bypassed her and headed toward the door.

  “Sorry,” she said smiling. “You know I can’t be answering doors looking like Aunt Jemima.”

  He gave her a wink and headed toward the door. She heard Trina’s voice as she came toward the kitchen.

  “Trina! Where the hell have you been? It’s good to see your face finally!” YaYa said.

  “It’s good to be back,” she responded. “I had to get lost for a while. Check on my mom, clear my head.”

  Trina didn’t tell YaYa about the resentment she had built up toward her. In YaYa’s pursuit of revenge against Leah, she had thrown a lot of people to the wolves, including Miesha. Miesha had caught a case at YaYa’s request. In Trina’s mind it was selfish. YaYa was willing to use anyone to get her revenge. She had made her battle everyone’s battle and there wasn’t anyone that she wouldn’t throw under the bus in order to win. Trina loved YaYa dearly, but at the same time she hated her. YaYa was loyal to herself in Trina’s eyes. She had a lot of love for Disaya but she wasn’t blind to her flaws either.

  YaYa looked at Trina curiously, feeling the invisible wall that stood between them. Unbeknownst to Trina, YaYa saw her as a sister. Her selfishness was about survival. She didn’t mean to disregard others; it was just the way things were.