The Score

by Kiki Swinson

  Within seconds I was on my back, legs bent, feet planted on the bed and Drake was entering my deep, moist center.

  “Ahhh,” I crooned as Drake moved inside of me rhythmically. I closed my eyes and tried to get lost in the ecstasy of his touch. It didn’t work. The gears of my brain were still grinding on ideas of slipping away from Drake, going to Virginia Beach to see Mrs. Shepherd one last time, grabbing the remainder of my cash, and getting away from everyone and everything forever. It all sounded much easier than it really was. I was really going to have to be smart about it this time or else everything I had planned might come crashing down around me.

  MATT

  I was pacing like a motherfucka during the phone call. My stomach was in knots. My fists were curled at my side and my jaw rocked feverishly. The adrenaline coursing through my veins had me feeling like I could rip someone’s head off with my bare hands. I was listening intently to every word. This had to work. It was the only way I was going to get Lauren’s ass back for what she had done to me. I could almost feel the satisfaction of getting revenge on her. The anticipation of it had me feeling invincible.

  Finally the call ended. I rushed over. I’m sure the curiosity was written all over my face. I couldn’t contain it.

  “What did she say? Did she sound like she believed you? Did she say where she was at? Did she say she was coming back to VA? When she coming back? How long did she say it’s going to take her to get here?” I shot off questions rapid-fire. I wanted answers to every single question and I wanted them now.

  Daysha shot me an evil glare and sucked her teeth. She was such a mean little bitch I could’ve just snatched her by that fucked-up weave she had in her hair. I played it cool though.

  “Yeah, she believed me. What? You think I can’t sound like a professional over the phone?” Daysha shot back. I bit down into my jaw to keep from telling this dirty rat what I really thought of her ass.

  “I’m not saying that but you know Lauren, she is real smart. Shit, for all you know she might’ve recognized your voice even through the disguise. I’m just fucking asking. You don’t have to get all stupid about it,” I retorted. This bitch was bugging, but she was so greedy she would’ve done anything for a little paper. Including betraying her best friend.

  “Yeah whatever. She sounded like she believed every word that I said,” Daysha snapped. “She’s coming as soon as she can. Trust me, it worked. I don’t do no half-ass work.”

  Daysha stomped over to me with her face folded into a frown. She extended the open palm of her right hand out in front of her and used her left pointer finger to point to her palm. Then she made the throat-clearing AHEM sound. I pursed my lips at that bitch and shook my head in disgust. I had seen opportunistic, money-hungry bitches before, but Daysha was the worst kind. She’s the type of bitch that I would’ve had burned alive in my old life.

  “Damn, I’ma pay you. Why you acting all pressed?” I grumbled in disgust. I hated thirsty-ass hood rat bitches. I never liked this troublemaking bitch Daysha anyway. It seemed like every time Lauren and I got into problems over other chicks, Daysha was right there in the middle of it. More than once she was the one who had carried the information back to Lauren. There were many times I argued with Lauren telling her not to trust Daysha’s snake ass. But, no, Lauren was all about her so-called best friend.

  “Look, this is about money. Or am I wrong about what all of this about? I mean, you think I would’ve been setting up my best friend for the downfall and for the likes of a grimy nigga like you? Too bad for her that she didn’t look out for me with a few stacks before she snuck out of town because now it’s fair game. What Lauren did to you and to me was grimy. And the way she played us lets me know that me and her must have never been real friends in her eyes. I mean you telling me she came off with almost three million dollars, the hood gossip is that she raked in more than that, and she ain’t even try to hit me off with ten stacks? Shit, one stack would’ve done the trick. I’m not no hater chick, but I’m just going to keep it one hunn’ed with you right now. Lauren always did think she was better than everybody, but that was after she got with you. Before that she was on those struggle meals and struggle outfits just like the rest of you. She got with you and you upgraded her a little something. She never even tried to throw us nothing. I mean, I got with my own version of a so-called hustler so I did a’ight for myself. I wasn’t pressed. When your ass fell off I thought for sure Lauren would get humble . . . but nah . . . the bitch kept shopping, kept flossing, kept acting like me and her sister and all of us up in the hood were just rats compared to her. I didn’t even know she had no credit-card-scam shit going on. She kept frontin’ like you was still getting long paper in the streets. Well for me, this whole thing that’s about to go down serves Lauren right. So yeah, I’m fucking setting that bitch up and I’m about to get paid to do it. Call me grimy but where I’m from only the grimy survive,” Daysha preached, still holding out her hand in front of her.

  I let out a long sigh. Irrational chicks like Daysha that had their own sense of right and wrong made my fucking head hurt, I swear. It really didn’t take much convincing for her to turn on Lauren like a straight Judas. Money was all it took.

  The day I approached her with the idea of helping me, I handed Daysha a thousand dollars as a deposit and promised her five thousand more. So, six thousand dollars to set up someone you called your best friend. I had to shake my head at this bitch.

  “Here’s another two stacks. When I’m sure this shit works and we get to the finish line, I will give you the rest,” I told her.

  “So what do we do now? Wait for Lauren to come to the assisted living place and snatch her ass off the street?” Daysha asked. “Because I’m not so sure she will even get in contact with me when she gets to town. I can’t predict for sure that she will even let me know when she gets here. I expect her to call me but what if she don’t?”

  “Didn’t you say she had called you like twice to ask you to go see about the old lady?” I asked her.

  “I mean . . . yeah . . . she had me going down to check on Mrs. Shepherd every now and then . . . even though I never actually went. So, she might call me and ask me to go down there. So if she does, then what?” Daysha replied. She was so damn dumb she had to be told everything.

  “Well when she contacts you just act like the old lady is real sick. Urge Lauren to come back to Virginia Beach to see the lady. I mean the point of all this is that we want the bitch to show up. Maybe you can tell her to meet up with you first and that you’ll go with her to see the lady or something like that. I need you to lure her to me. It don’t matter how it’s done, I just need to be face-to-face with her. Once I get my hands on her, you can dip and I’ll pay you after,” I suggested. Daysha let out a sarcastic giggle.

  “Nah, nigga, you can pay me first and then I’ll lure her to you. Remember, I’m not new to this stunt you’re trying to pull off. Y’all hustler types think y’all can swindle chicks like me. Well not this chick. I ain’t no dumb-ass,” Daysha snapped, rolling her neck like hood rats do.

  “Ain’t nobody tryna play you, Daysha. I’m tryna think of what will be easiest for you and what will get you out of it faster. I just need to grab Lauren. Period. I’ll pay you,” I replied.

  “But wait . . . if you grab her then how do you expect to get your dough? I mean, once you snatch Lauren up you really think she’s going to hand the money to you and let you go about your way?” Daysha pointed out.

  “Once I grab her ass I will put my gun on that bitch and go with her to get the money. Once she gets inside she will know that Ms. Shepherd ain’t really sick, but I don’t give a fuck. She’s going to find out you set her up regardless. But, you won’t care because you’ll have six stacks in ya pocket,” I replied.

  Daysha fell silent for a few minutes, seemingly contemplating what I had just said. I could see that change-of-heart look coming over her face. Either way she was already knee-deep in this.

  “It’s
either loyalty to your grimy-ass friend or loyalty to the almighty dollar. You can’t worship two gods. You feel me? All I’m saying is your so-called best friend chose the almighty dollar over you already so think on that long and strong before you give me your final answer,” I told Daysha. I waved a few dollars in front of her. She followed the money with her eyes like a horse being led by a carrot on a string.

  “Yeah. I’m looking out for myself. Let’s do what we gotta do,” Daysha acquiesced.

  I handed her two stacks. She snatched the money like she needed it to stay alive. Just like that I had bought her betrayal.

  LAUREN

  I was covered in sweat and my stomach was doing flips as I rushed around the apartment trying to pack a tiny overnight bag for my trip. It was so hard to think about what I might need because my mind was muddled with all kinds of thoughts. I was thinking about going back, thinking about Mrs. Shepherd dying. And at the top of my mental list were thoughts of dipping out on Drake. I hated lying to him but it had just become a way of life for me at this point. I couldn’t even imagine going to him to tell him my real identity and explaining all of the baggage I was carrying from my past life.

  I looked nervously over at the clock on the cable box. The time was ticking by faster than usual or so it seemed that way.

  “Shit. I gotta get out of here in thirty minutes or Drake will be back,” I huffed. I didn’t need much, but it was just a matter of getting my mind right in order to go back to my hometown. I was running off of no sleep. I hadn’t slept one hour since the phone call. Fuck tossing and turning, I hadn’t even been able to relax my mind much less my body since the call from the assisted living place.

  “C’mon, Lauren. Get it together. In and out of that place. Drake will have to understand when you get back. He’ll get over it,” I pep-talked myself. There was also the matter of what I would do with the money once I retrieved it. Just another thing to worry about. But, first things first.

  I needed to slip away before Drake returned from his morning workout. I shook my head thinking about him coming back with that sexy sheen of sweat on his gorgeous face, flashing that bright white smile and holding my morning cup of coffee. I shivered just thinking about him. He was such a good man. I was really starting to feel like I was falling in love with him.

  “Finally,” I exhaled the word. I had enough stuff in my bag and I was ready to go. I grabbed my keys, Chanel purse, and cell phone. My cab was already outside. I took one last look at the note I had left for Drake.

  Hey baby,

  I had to make a quick day trip back to my hometown. I knew you would insist on going, which I would have loved, but I needed to do it alone this time. I’ll explain everything to you when I get back. Please understand. Please don’t be mad. I’ll be back before you know it.

  Smooches,

  Lauriel

  It kind of broke my heart to have to leave Drake something as impersonal as a note but I had no choice. Sending him a text would’ve just made him race back to the apartment and calling him would’ve just had him peppering me with questions. I raced outside and hopped in my awaiting taxi.

  “JFK, please,” I instructed.

  As soon as the cab pulled away from the curb and began moving down the street, I closed my eyes and rested my head back on the seat. I was trying to let all of my worries fall away for once. I had been living so happily over the past three months that I had become a different, more carefree person. I had truly become my alias, Lauriel Kelton. She was classy. She was happy. She was carefree. She didn’t steal. She was a totally different person.

  I knew returning to Virginia Beach was going to require that I transform back into street-smart, hood-thinking, thieving, lying, conniving, watch-your-back–ass Lauren Kelly. It was so exhausting having to be that person. All of my life, I had to be a thief, a sneak, a grimy chick to survive. I was very young when I was forced to be a thief and scammer for survival. No one wants to be a thief and a liar, but in my circumstance I didn’t have much of a choice. It was either become ruthless or die. Tears cropped up in my eyes because a painful, intrusive memory slammed into my mind and I couldn’t shake it away.

  November 1992

  “Lulu? You awake?” my sister Mariah called out to me in the darkness of our cold, empty apartment. It was Thanksgiving evening. We had no lights, no gas, no food, and most importantly no mother at home.

  “Yeah,” I whispered back. “You?”

  I was so hungry it hurt to even speak. As soon as I opened my mouth a loud rumble of hunger pangs tore through my gut.

  “Yeah, I’m up. But I’m hungry,” Mariah whined. “I need food or I feel like I’m going to die.”

  “I’m hungry, too, Mimi, but what am I supposed to do? Mommy said if we leave the house the DFAS people will take us away and send us to a hole in the ground where rats will eat us alive,” I told her. I heard her stomach rumble this time.

  “Owwww!”mysisterhowled. Then she started crying hysterically. “Agggh! I’m hungry! I’m hungry!” Mariah screamed at the top of her lungs.

  “Shhhh. Stop screaming,” I said to her. Before I could say anything else Mariah scrambled up off the floor and raced for the apartment door. I jumped up and went after her. I knew I couldn’t let her leave. I was responsible for her. I was the oldest.

  “Mariah! No! We can’t leave!” I screamed at her. I grabbed on to her shirt and tried to yank her away from the door.

  “I’m hungry! Get off of me!” She swung around and hit me in the face with the force of a man. It shocked me. I stumbled backward, slightly dazed but more surprised that my six-year-old sister had that much power behind her punch.

  “I’m hungry! I need food!” she cried out. Before I could gather myself enough to stop her, she had unlocked our apartment door and bolted out of it.

  “Mariah,” I yelled after her. “Please come back!” I knew I couldn’t let her go out into the streets alone. I was so hungry that my body felt too weak to chase behind her. Every regular step, let alone having to run to speed behind my sister, felt like every muscle in my body would disintegrate. Thank goodness I was older and my legs were slightly longer than hers.

  By the time I caught up to Mariah I was so weak and winded I could barely speak. I clutched on to her shirt like my life depended on it.

  “Mimi . . . wait . . . I . . . will . . . get . . . us . . . some . . . food,” I puffed out each word through dry, cracked lips. “You have to let me do this. Just trust me.”

  My sister turned to me with tears making tracks down her ashy face.

  “Please don’t let me die, Lulu,” Mariah begged pitifully. “I’m so hungry I’m going to die.”

  Her words broke my heart. At that moment I didn’t feel like a little kid anymore. I felt like a mother who was responsible for her child. I grabbed on to Mariah and we stood in the bitter cold hugging for a few long minutes.

  “Okay. I’m going to find us something. I promise,” I assured her. I took her hand and we started walking toward the small general store that was up the road from where we lived. We were both frozen from having no coats and completely out of energy by the time we arrived at the store.

  “Mimi, you stay out here. If you go inside with me they will know something because you too little. I look kind of like a big girl so they won’t think nothing if I go by myself,” I told her. “Don’t let nobody see you out here and be very quiet.” I made her hide at the side of the store so nobody would snatch her. It was the small store because due to the holiday the supermarket wasn’t open. I opened the store door and a wind chime that was hanging over the door tinged to announce my presence. I jumped and whipped my head around. The sound sent a flash of heat through my chest. The old white man behind the counter raised one eyebrow at me like he knew I was there to do no good. I quickly averted my eyes from him. Even at that young age I knew I couldn’t let him put me on a guilt trip or I would lose the heart to do what I needed to do.

  The store was practically empty inside
but for a drunk man staggering to the counter to buy two more six-packs of beer and an old lady who looked like she had just purchased sixty scratch-off cards. I bit down into my jaw and mustered up as much energy and courage as I could. I rushed to the back of the store and looked around to make sure I was alone. It didn’t seem like anyone was watching. I scanned the shelves with my eyes to see what I could get for us to eat that didn’t need a can opener or a stove. I quickly stuffed a small box of Ritz crackers down my pants. The bulge was hard to hide since my pants were already two sizes too small. I grabbed two small bags of chips and stuffed both up my shirt. Then I grabbed some Oreos and did the same thing. I knew I would never be able to just walk out of the store because now I resembled a pregnant eight-year-old. I was going to have to make a run for it.

  I swallowed hard, crossed my arms over my chest, inhaled, and bolted for the door.

  “Hey! Hey!” I heard the store owner screaming behind me. I was already outside before the old man could even make it from behind his counter.

  “C’mon, Mimi! Run!” I screamed to my sister. She had been sitting on the ground so it took her a few minutes to get up. She didn’t move for a few seconds.

  “Mimi! Run! Don’t let them get you!” I hollered over my shoulder. My sister was too slow. It was too late. I was probably a half block up when I realized my sister wasn’t coming. I stood in the middle of the road frozen by fear, anguish, and loss. I knew that the store owner had gotten her. I also knew that what my mother said was true . . . they would call the child welfare people to get her. I could barely think straight as I imagined my sister being put into a hole in the ground and rats feasting on her. I couldn’t keep going without my sister. The thought of being without her was too much.