by BlaQue
Chapter Thirteen
Experience Unlimited (EU)
“Da Butt”
Dread
I was uneasy the entire flight to Georgia. Once I touched down and the captain announced our arrival in Atlanta, I powered my cell phone on and I had fourteen voicemails from NiQue. As I listened to each of them, I noticed they all said the same thing; she wanted me to call her as soon as I could. The five text messages she sent all said the same thing, “Call Me ASAP!” I figured she and Joseah had gotten into another altercation and I wasn’t in the mood to deal with ShaniQua’s childish shit.
I couldn’t get my thoughts in order from all the shit that happened the night before. From fucking that stripper, to her sister being murdered; it was an ill situation and I couldn’t get any of it out of my head. Like the nigga that I am, I was happier than a mutha fucker that I had left when I did, or I could have been mixed up in all that drama. Senseless drama was not in my equation. I had been trying to avoid any heat since the cops had left me alone about who had killed YaYa.
I grabbed my carryon luggage and headed to baggage claim. I retrieved my belongings and went out front to meet Ox and Crack who were supposed to be there to pick me up. Before I could get out of the automatic doors, reporters swarmed me. There were lights flashing and people pushing up in my face, all trying to ask me questions. They were all asking something different, and I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I was grabbed roughly by Ox who also grabbed my bags, and Big Jeff and Crucial brought up the rear trying to keep the reporters away from me.
Next thing I knew, a huge Chevy Avalanche pulled up to the curb. Another one just like it pulled up behind it. When the doors swung open on the first truck Crack was behind the wheel and Billbo hopped out of the second truck. Billbo, Ox and Big Jeff were trying to keep the reporters away from our vehicles as they ushered me inside. Before the door could fully close, I heard one of the reporters very clearly.
“Mr. Evans did you kill her?”
I tried to see who asked the question, and I wanted to respond by asking a question. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on. It looked like a circus in the Southwest terminal. Billbo slammed the door shut, moved the crowd back, and got into the truck behind us. I swear we must have driven 75 miles an hour getting out of the airport.
“What was that shit back there?” I asked Crack who was looking straight ahead maneuvering through the other cars on the ramp trying to get out of the crowded airport.
“We will talk about that once we find a new hotel. The hotel we were staying in sold us out to those blood-thirsty reporters.” he said narrowly missing an old beat up Honda that had jumped in our lane going well below the speed limit.
“What the fuck are you talking about Crack? Who sold us out and for what? Who do those people think I murdered? What is going on?” I asked confused.
“We will talk about all of this once we get to another hotel. I found a spot in College Park. The whole damn town is sold out for this concert.” Crack said, not offering any more information.
We rode in silence until we pulled up to a Hilton. Crack ordered me to stay put and out of sight like I was child. Even though I wanted to know what was going on, I wasn’t willing to risk everything by trying to find out.
Crack came back with keycards in his hands and distributed them to everyone in the trucks. We pulled around to the back of the hotel and we entered the hotel through a service entrance. We used a cargo elevator in the kitchen used by the room service staff. Once we got to our rooms on the sixth floor, everyone went their own way. I could see from the expressions on their faces that they too had been through some shit today, and I knew I was getting ready to hear all about it. I entered my suite and admired the view of the city. I barely noticed Crack had entered the room behind me.
“Dunny, you want to hit this?” he said pulling a rolled J of Kush from his duffle bag. I laughed to myself. With all the money we were getting, Crack still hadn’t invested in any real luggage. I took the blunt from him and sparked it while walking out on the balcony. Cracked followed me out into the humid, sticky, southern air.
“What was all that shit at the airport about?” I asked him taking a pull of the weed into my lungs.
“So you really don’t know what happened?” he asked taking the blunt.
“I wouldn’t be asking you if I knew.”
“Man, that stripper broad’s sister got murked last night behind the club. Those reporters back there found out we had a show at the club where it happened. They said something about an anonymous tip being given to them and something about you being wanted for questioning.” He pulled the blunt again and passed it back to me. I slowly tried to process what he was saying.
“Do they think I had something to do with that lil’ bitch getting her head hit?”
“Yeah man, they do. That is why we had to try and shake them and change locations. Have you talked to your girl?” Crack questioned me.
“Naw, I haven’t talked to her yet. She didn’t even know where I performed last night. I was trying to avoid her for a minute. She has been tripping lately. I don’t know how she is going to take this shit.” I said truthfully.
“Well, I think you better tell her wassup before she has to hear it from someone else. She is going to find out; might as well be on your terms that she gets the news. The last thing you need is her finding this shit out from someone else. She might not take it too lightly that you held back some shit like this from her. You know how she can get.” Crack said.
I nodded, letting him know he was right. We finished the blunt and I rolled another one. I retrieved my cell phone from my pocket and called NiQue. She picked up on the first ring.
“Hey babe, we need to talk. Are you alone?” I asked her.
“Yes, it’s just me and the baby. Dread I don’t know what’s going on, but you need to get the fuck back here now. Joseah is dead and that asshole of a detective came here with a warrant for your arrest!” she cried into the phone.
“What do you mean Joseah is dead?” I damn near choked on the smoke from the blunt. Maybe I wasn’t hearing her correctly.
“After I dropped you off at the airport I went home and the baby was fussy so I took her for a ride to calm her down. When I came back home I found her,” her voice trailed off.
“What do you mean you, ‘found’ her?” My head was spinning. This shit can’t possibly be happening again.
“I found her dead in the kitchen. The police said it looks like she fell and she hit her head. They aren’t saying much more than that,” she was sobbing into the receiver.
“Are you ok?” I asked then it hit me! Did she say that that detective came to the house with a warrant?
“Baby did you say that cop Gatsby came there looking for me?”
“Dread, it wasn’t just any cop; it was the one from…” her voice trailed off and I knew she didn’t want to discuss it. I knew just what she was talking about.
“What did he say? What did he want?” I asked her firing question after question.
“He said something about you being wanted for murder! He had a warrant and everything. Dread, please come home. I don’t want to be alone. I can’t do this alone. I can’t do this again!” she whined.
“Look, stay inside. Don’t leave the house and I will try to get on the first flight that I can back to DC.” I ordered.
“There might be a problem with me coming straight back. I ran into some shit at the airport and I am not in Atlanta. I had to change hotels. I am in College Park until I can get out of here. When I touched down earlier today, there were reporters swarming all over the place. It’s a wonder that the police didn’t pick me up and send my ass back to DC.” I said.
“Dread, please hurry home to us. I would die without you!” NiQue cried. She was damn near hysterical and it was breaking me down.
“I got you shorty. On everything I am gonna’ get this handled and I will back home before you know it.” I said. I was trying to c
onvince myself more than I was trying to reassure her.
“Dread? Why didn’t you tell us that you were performing at a strip club last night? Did you have anything to do with that young girl turning up dead? If you had something to do with that shit you need to speak up. We can’t help you if you don’t tell us what happened.” she fussed into the phone.
I couldn’t believe what she was asking me. I looked at the phone like it was a foreign object.
“NiQue you are being real reckless right now. I don’t have shit to hide because I didn’t do anything wrong, but you are not gonna interrogate me over the phone,” I said growing agitated with her.
“We would appreciate it if you didn’t hide anything from us anymore.” she said and then the line went dead.
I was so pissed off. She had the nerve to be trying to make me account for every step I took when all she did was disappear and leave our newborn with who she referred to as, “the strange nanny.”
I paced back and forth in the hotel room until it hit me! Who the fuck was she referring to when she said, “We would appreciate it if you didn’t hide anything from us?” Didn’t she just say she was alone?
I guess I was answering to not only her but the baby too. I threw the cell phone across the room and it slammed against the wall, shattering into several pieces. Crack jumped up like someone had launched a grenade. The sound of the phone crashing against the wall had startled him.
“Dunny, you have to stay calm. I don’t know what the fuck is going on; but losing your cool right now is not going to solve anything. We have to figure out what we are going to do. Obviously everyone knows you aren’t in DC because of the mob of paparazzi in the airport and the other hotel. They know you are here in Georgia; they just don’t know where!” Crack said. He stood there waiting for me to respond.
I didn’t have anything to say. I knew one thing for sure, and that was that I needed to get home and talk to Pinky so she could clear me of this shit. She was the only person who knew where I was last night after I got off of that stage. She was the one person who held the key to my freedom. I just prayed that her clearing my name didn’t ruin my relationship with NiQue.
Chapter Fourteen
All-in-one
“Mandingo”
Neko
Pinky hasn’t been the same since she had to go in front of the whole world via the reporters to look for her sister’s killer. Even though our relationship has never been one based on the traditional foundation of what a relationship should be built on, I have tried to be there for her. I know what it is like to lose the people you care about most in this world. That common bond was enough to keep us bonded.
I walked in her bedroom where she had been hibernating for the last twenty-four hours since all of her business had been aired out on the news. The only thing the reporters didn’t know was what Pinky really did to make serious money. Somehow, that information hadn’t gotten out and I am sure she was glad it hadn’t. However, with her being on every news channel in the DMV every few hours, it wasn’t good for her business. No one was interested in a hit woman for hire who had let someone infiltrate her spot and murder one of her own.
She had the pale pink curtains pulled shut, making it hard for the light to penetrate the room. The only thing she did was watch the television, hoping there was new information on her sister’s case. I hated to think that her sister’s case might grow cold before the cops even gave it a second thought. I had become an expert at making funeral arrangements, so I didn’t mind lending Pinky a helping hand in that regard. All of this shit had seemed so surreal. There was no way this should have happened.
In the short, few weeks before the murder, Pinky and I had just sent Khalia off to the prom and after that we attended her graduation. She was a good girl. There was no way she could have been caught up in some bullshit that would land her dead in the alley of one of the country’s most notorious strip clubs. She was only seventeen! Her life was just starting and she should have been deciding on which college she would be attending in the fall. Instead, we were deciding on which cemetery to bury her in.
I crossed her large bedroom and shut her TV off. Pinky stirred beneath the covers.
“Neko don’t turn that off! What if they have some information and I miss it?”
“Pink, the police will call you if anything changes or if they find out anything more than they already know. You have got to stop torturing yourself.”
“I should have been there for her. I know this shit is all my fault. It had to be someone who was out to get me and got her instead. There is no other reason for this. It was retaliation or revenge. I just know it! I have taken out so many niggas…who’s to say one of them ain’t target, kill her, and dump her at the club to make a statement?” She was going round and round with her theories and it was rather sad.
Pinky was normally a killer with no remorse. You could never get an emotion out of her unless it revolved around her sister. This shit had her feeling a certain kind of way and it was breaking me down little by little to see it.
“Pinky, there was no way for you to know this was going to happen. Most people didn’t even know she was your sister. Please stop beating yourself up about this. This ain’t your fault and you already know whoever is responsible is gonna pay!”
She sat up in the bed and I took a good look at her. Her eyes were puffy, and her normally neatly maintained, hot pink locks were half pinned up and half hanging all over the place. She looked lost; and I wished I could immediately take the pain away if it would help her return to normal.
She ignored my statement and disregarded me as if I weren’t there. I watched as she fumbled around her bed; ultimately finding the remote and switching the TV back on. She flipped through the channels, surveying each and every news station she came across. I took a seat next to her on the bed and reached out to hold her and she flinched like I was about to hurt her.
“Damn, when did we get here?” I asked.
“I’m sorry Neko, but I don’t want to really be bothered right now. I am sure you can understand that with all of this going on, I just want to be alone.”
“Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone right now. You ain’t exactly doing to great on your own!” I argued.
She avoided looking at me. I knew she was trying to hide the helplessness she was feeling. Someone as rough as she is can easily be broken; and she was ashamed of it.
I could see through her act. She was trying desperately to hold on to the tough girl act when I knew she really wanted to let go and let the tears loose. I had seen my sister YaYa play this game one too many times. I knew the game all too well.
“Neko how do you know what’s good for me?” she said giving up much attitude.
“Pinky, I am not gonna do this with you. If you don’t want me here then all you have to do is say so and I will let you be.” I countered.
“I say so!” she shouted.
I damn sure wasn’t going to argue with her. I had had more than my share of death and I didn’t want to partake in anymore. I knew she was just grieving, but she was not gonna take her frustrations out on my ass just because I was trying to help.
My cell vibrated in my pocket letting me know I had a text message. I entered the password and saw a message from Natalie and dismissed it without looking at it. I knew she didn’t want anything but some attention. I would have to deal with her when I finished handling this shit with Pinky.
“You might as well go to whoever that is calling or texting your phone because I want to be left alone!” Pinky said rolling her eyes like she was truly pissed with me.
“Aight shorty. Just call me if you need anything or if you hear anything.” I said standing to leave the room.
I got to the doorway and the look in her eyes said, “please don’t leave me,” but if she was gonna act like this then I was not going to sit around and take her shit. I was just trying to help her the best way I knew how.
“Make sure y
ou call the funeral home too. They said this Wednesday is the first day they have available for the service. I hope you take care of yourself Pink.”
I saw the tears welling up in her eyes. She nodded and turned her head so I wouldn’t see her cry again. I shook my head and walked out of her room not knowing what else to do. My girl, who wasn’t exactly my girl, was buggin’. I didn’t know how to approach her or help her in fear she might flip the script on me. I walked out of her house and headed to my Yukon which occupied her driveway. Once I got inside, I made a phone call. I let the phone ring three times and almost hung up. I felt guilty even thinking about what I was about to go and do, but Pinky forced me to do it!
“Oh, so you finally call me back huh?” Natalie said in her husky Jamaican accent.
“A friend of mine had a death in the family and I was helping them out with the funeral arrangements. So all that popping off at the mouth shit you can keep to yourself Natalie.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know; I just thought you were trying to avoid me.” Natalie said.
“You ain’t know ma. Are you home? I am trying to come through and see you. I need you right now baby. It’s been a long fucking day and I need what you got.” I said smoothly.
“What is it you need from me?”
I could hear her freaked out ass smiling through the phone and that shit turned me on. I cranked the engine of my truck, backed out of the driveway and headed to SW where Natalie lived.
“I need whatever you are offering me baby. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Make sure that thang is ready for Daddy when I get there; aight?”
I didn’t even wait for her to respond. I hung up the phone and threw it in the passenger seat and pushed in the direction of Natalie’s house. If I never understood, like father like son, I understood that shit now. It was all too clear. My Pops was known for keeping bitches on him and I was no exception! I had heard many stories about how Pops always had a bad bitch on his arm! I had to admit my thirst for variety was something deep rooted and I am sure it stemmed from Pop’s genes.