The thirty-three-year-old beauty looked to be no older than twenty. She was a silent partner for this hole-in-the-wall strip club on the south side of Chicago called Shelly’s. The owner was one of her homegirls from way back who found herself getting shaken down by some local wannabe thugs. In response, Chrissy took it upon herself to put in some work for her dear friend. In return, she cut her in on part of the profit.
Truth be told Chrissy was heartless and that came from seeing a man die in front of her when she was younger. The trauma from witnessing that led to her choosing drugs over everything else. Every now and then she wished that one of these days that man would come knocking on her door or she’d run into him on the street. That would lift the burden that she had carried for over fifteen years.
“After a long night of partying, I swear with the headache I have this morning, I will never drink again,” Chrissy said to herself as the sun beamed through the blinds of her bedroom window. She got up to jump in the shower and realized she had thrown up all over her Coach sneakers. “I can’t believe this. I just got these shoes yesterday,” she said to herself, tiptoeing to the bathroom.
The self-proclaimed hustler had a habit of overdoing it when she drank anything with vodka in it. The night prior was her girl Tisha’s twenty-fifth birthday, and they went all in. There were a bunch of thirsty niggas who were salty that they had shown them up and bought out the bar for their entourage. And, of course, you had the hating hoes who could only wish they were in their shoes. After about an hour Chrissy began to have a feeling one of them was watching her kind of hard and usually when she got that feeling something always popped off. Just to be safe, she slowed down on the shots so she wouldn’t give anybody the upper hand in case they tried something.
There had to be at least twenty of her girls on one side of the club; it was thick. Tisha and Chrissy slid off to the bathroom for a quick fix. She didn’t think anybody would have noticed them sneak off. She had a bit of an affair with what some call “nose candy.” In her opinion, she was no cokehead or anything; she just used it to take the edge off when she was trying to get nice. After a couple lines, they emerged from the bathroom, when Chrissy noticed that same ho from earlier with her hand on her brand new Michael Kors handbag.
“Tisha, please tell me this ho does not have her funky little hands on my bag. I’m about to beat the hell out of her,” she said, going straight from zero to ten.
Chrissy rushed over and without breaking stride grabbed her by her cheap, kinky twists and dragged her all the way to the dance floor. The next thing you knew, there were five of her friends along with her on the woman. Chrissy was trying her hardest to snatch every braid out of her head.
After the fight was broken up the woman who was jumped got thrown out of the club, and Chrissy and her entourage continued to pour up. In spite of the fallout, the night ended as well as it started and Chrissy went to bed feeling like she was at the top of the world. She knew the next morning was likely to be a rough one. Chrissy was set to meet with her probation officer for her final check-in before she would finally be off papers.
* * *
Block was on the boulevard grabbing something to eat when Toya called. “I’m at my condo. Why don’t you come over now? I’ve got some business to talk to you about. I’m over by the beach. Just call me when you’re close, and I’ll give you directions,” she said, trying to mask the excitement about what she was planning for him.
Block made a U-turn at the light near Carrol Avenue and headed back toward downtown. “Yeah, I can do that. I need to stop at the Duke to pick up some Black & Milds real quick.”
As he turned into the entrance of the gas station, memories from his childhood flashed through his mind. He had thoughts of hanging out in front of the store, watching the gangsters and hustlers parade their new cars and shoot dice on the side of the building. A grin emerged on his face as he parked. Suddenly, he noticed a woman walking in front of his truck toward one of the pumps. “What the hell? I know that ain’t . . . Is that?” Block said, rolling down the dark-tinted window on his driver’s side.
It was hard for him to tell if he recognized this stunning young lady. As she turned and looked over her shoulder, Block did recognize her. She faintly resembled Chrissy, the girl Shamar stressed out. He hadn’t seen her in years, but the resemblance was not enough to convince him it was her. As he further investigated, it was clear he had seen her before. She was the rude woman who nearly knocked him over at the courthouse. Part of him wanted to cuss her out for being so rude but fifteen years behind those walls made her quite the prize. Disregarding his desire for tobacco, Block climbed out of his truck and took the quickest route to engage the voluptuous woman. “Say, sweetheart, what’s good? Can I talk to you for a second?” he said, strutting his way in between cars.
The young lady stopped and spun around full of arrogance, only to be shocked at the sight of the man standing before her. Her heart started beating rapidly, and her knees got weak. She stuttered, “Hey, um, what’s up? You talking to me?”
She looked nervous and for a second Block wondered if he had been too aggressive with his approach. It had been quite some time since he had to put his gift of gab to use. He responded cunningly, “Yeah, how you doing? Do I know you from somewhere? You kind of look familiar. What’s your name?”
She wasn’t sure what to say as she held a secret he had yet to discover; and, since he didn’t know who she was, she took that as a way out. She knew how tight he and Shamar were and having heard he was in town she knew he wouldn’t be far behind. She did not know that Shamar had already gone back. She responded sharply, “Yeah, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ve got to go.”
Caught off guard Block scrambled to salvage the encounter. “Wait a minute, shorty. What’s wrong? Where you going?” he said, gently grabbing her hand.
“Boy, if you don’t let me go!” she snapped.
Block’s face twisted in shock as her voice changed and sounded familiar. “What the hell? Chrissy, is that you? Come here!” he shouted as she slipped from his grip.
She jumped in her car and locked the doors before speeding out of the parking lot. Block rushed back to his truck and attempted to catch up with her. As they both raced down the boulevard back toward the east side, Block’s mind raced, trying to figure out what had just happened. Why did Chrissy look so different, and what was she hiding? He hadn’t seen her in years, and it seemed like she’d aged quite a bit. It didn’t make any sense for her to behave this way after all this time. He had to find out and soon.
As Chrissy sped down the boulevard, she was still overcome with shock. The only thing she could think of was getting the hell out of Michigan City. She took the nearest exit to get to Interstate 94. As she headed west toward Chicago, she could see Block’s truck in her rearview mirror swerving in and out of traffic. “Oh my God, why is this happening to me? Where the hell did he come from and why is he back here? I have to get away from here.”
As the high-speed chase ensued, police joined in as well. Block couldn’t believe he had allowed himself to get caught up in this mess over nothing. As he considered the possible outcome of this situation he determined it wasn’t worth it at all.
When he hit his brakes to slow down and hop off the nearest exit, his truck hit a pothole, causing him to lose control. He swerved and struggled to regain control, but he was going too fast. In a last-minute effort to save himself, Block grabbed his seat belt, which he had failed to put on. The vehicle spun around and tumbled, rolling across the interstate. The truck came to a stop, and Block was thrown through the windshield into the grass on the side of the road.
Eventually, he was taken by ambulance to the nearest hospital, where he surprisingly only suffered a broken arm and a few scratches. It seemed the grass cushioned the impact when he landed.
He spent a week in recovery before being released. He managed to smooth things over with his parole officer after convincing him that an unknown driver ran him
off the road. He was good at talking his way out of stuff when it mattered.
* * *
As Shamar packed up his things to prepare to return to the States, his heart was heavy. He hadn’t spoken to Jelisa in over a month, and she had no idea he was coming home. Unsure of how to stage his return, Shamar reached out to Tamika through e-mail. She had relocated to the Army in-processing center in Chicago, instead of Georgia, which allowed her to be closer to home. They arranged to meet up once he was settled back in Fort Riley.
Shamar’s unit made it back home just as the fall weather was beginning to change the color of the leaves on the trees. He hadn’t realized how much he missed the smell of fresh air after smelling nothing but gunpowder and raw sewage for so long.
Shamar flew into Chicago to meet Tamika and Block. As he made his way from baggage claim, he could see the two of them waiting by the sliding door that led out to the parking garage. Block stood leaning up against his Chevy, which was fresh out of the detail shop. Tamika stood in front of him, wrapping herself in his arms and smiling.
Block looked up and nodded at him. “What’s good, soldier boy? How was the trip?” The two shook hands, embraced briefly, and shared a laughed.
Shamar smiled and answered, “What’s good, Block? How long has it been? I see you and Mika been getting it in.” He looked over at Tamika, who was now three months pregnant and glowing. Tamika smiled and rubbed her stomach.
“You know how I do, bruh. Mika, pop the trunk for me, would you?” Block said as he helped Shamar with his luggage. Once everything was loaded, Block helped Tamika into the back seat while he and Shamar sat in the front.
As they hit the highway, Shamar stared out the window, contemplating what he might be going home to. Block tapped him on his arm, disrupting his daydream. “Hey, Shamar. Shamar? So what’s the deal, man? How’s Jelisa doing? I’ve been seeing her out a lot lately. Y’all all right?”
Shamar looked over with a look of confusion and irritation on his face. “Man, I don’t know, fam. We not even really talking right now. I haven’t heard from her in a minute, and she don’t even know I’m home. I guess we’ll see when we get to the city, huh?”
Block nodded and looked at Tamika in the review mirror as if he was getting permission for something. She nodded as well and Block glanced over at Shamar. “Say, homie, what’s the deal with Chrissy?”
Shamar wasn’t expecting that topic to come up so soon. He shook his head, loathing the idea of even talking about it. Looking into the side-view mirror, he replied, “Fam, that’s a whole different situation. I don’t know what I’m going to do about that one.”
“I know what you mean, man. That ho crazy as hell. But, I will tell you that shorty look just like you. It’s wild that she’s acting like that, though, ’cause that white boy she’s with is dumb as hell for staying with her. He believes everything she tells him.”
“I know him, and I can’t believe he is dumb enough to believe her either; but I’m going to get answers one way or another.”
* * *
The last few months had been eye-opening for Jelisa. In spite of the advice Shawnie gave her, she chose to do her own thing. She and Donny had been kicking tough, and Shamar was the last thing on her mind. Numb to the fact that she was still married and clueless about Shamar being home, Jelisa was reckless. She and Donny didn’t hide the fact that they were creeping.
As Jelisa was finishing up with a client, she and Donny traded smiles from across the room. Jelisa’s cell rang, and an unknown number popped up on her caller ID. She shook her head and excused herself to the back room.
“Hello? Hello?” she said, but there was no answer on the other end.
Just as she was about to hang up, a man’s voice whispered, “Hey, sweetheart, so you ready to handle our little bit of business or what?”
Jelisa hesitated as she tried to familiarize herself with the voice. At first, she thought it was Shamar, and her attitude was about to kick in until he spoke again.
“You know, I don’t think ol’ soldier boy would appreciate the extracurricular activities you’ve been participating in.”
Suddenly, it dawned on her. It wasn’t Shamar; it was Reggie. Her heart sank, and she was filled with anxiety. Her voice quivered as she responded, “Reggie, I thought I told you to leave me the hell alone,” she whispered, trying not to attract attention to herself. “Reggie, what do you want?”
He let out a sinister laugh and answered, “You know what I want, angel. Now we can do this easy the way, or I can introduce our little princess to some of my favorite games. You know how I like playing games.”
Jelisa immediately became furious. She paced back and forth in the back room, her hands shaking and her stomach in knots. “You listen to me, ain’t nobody playing with you! If you go anywhere near my daughter, I’ll slit your throat myself.”
Reggie laughed as Jelisa fumed on the other end of the line. He continued to toy with her. “Yo, angel, I thought you knew me better than that. Let’s not make idle threats. I’m sure you want me dead. But, let’s face it, you can never get rid of me. I’m in your head, and you’ll never let me go.”
Jelisa was repulsed by his conceit. She snapped back at him, “Screw you, Reggie! I swear to God I will kill you if you come near me or my family!” she shouted.
“You know you are wearing the hell out of that skirt today, angel. My, you really have developed quite nicely.”
Jelisa’s eyes widened, and a chill ran down her spine. She slowly moved from the back area to the front and peered around the corner to look out of the shop windows. Outside, Reggie sat in his Cadillac, smiling and blowing cigar smoke out the window.
“You have three days, angel, three days. I’ll be in touch. I know where to find you,” Reggie said as he sped off.
As the sound of tires screeching filled the air, Jelisa was overcome with panic and worry. She slowly put her phone in her pocket and lowered her head in shame. She couldn’t believe what Reggie was trying to do to her. Where was Shamar when she needed him? Nowhere to be found; but, this time, it wasn’t his fault. She had cut him off and pushed him away. Even if he couldn’t be there with her, she knew he had enough pull to at least make a call on her behalf. With Reggie back in the picture, she needed to be able to count on his pull to get him away from her. Jelisa knew Donny wasn’t the type who could hold her down if it came to some street politics. She disappeared into the back again to gather herself.
Donny noticed that she looked flustered but he withheld his comments, thinking she might have gotten into it with Shamar. That, of course, would have been great news for him. Minutes later, Jelisa emerged from the back, apologizing to her client for the interruption.
* * *
As they made it into the city limits, Block looked over at Shamar, wondering what was going through his mind. “Shamar, what’s good, bro? Where you want me to drop you?”
Shamar thought about it and, not wanting to be caught off guard himself by popping up at Donny’s shop, he replied, “Take me by Wey’s crib so I can pick up my car from Ashley. I got some things to figure out before I go holla at Jelisa.”
“All right, man, I got you,” Block said, looking back at Tamika, who was fast asleep in the back.
When they pulled up to Kaduwey’s house, Ashley was waiting in the doorway. After helping Shamar with his bags, Block shook hands with him and gave him a brief embrace. “Hey, homie, hit me up tomorrow; let’s catch up some more. If you need anything, holla at me. I got you. You feel me?”
“Yeah, Block. I appreciate it, man. I’ll hit you once I get settled. Love, bruh. Tell Mika I said I’ll talk to her later.”
Block drove off as Shamar headed up the driveway to the house. When she let him into the house, Ashley greeted him with a warm hug. As they separated, she had tears in her eyes. She hadn’t seen him since the day he came to the hospital. Seeing his face flooded her mind with thoughts of Kaduwey, and her heart filled with grief.
“Ash, come on,
sweetheart. Don’t cry, ma. It’s all right. Come sit down,” he said, helping her to her seat. “So how you been holding up, Ash? I can tell it’s still hard for you.”
Ashley wiped her face and cleared her throat. She looked over at him with her big brown eyes and replied, “It has been hard. I’m not even going to lie. Everybody’s been helping out, though. I just can’t get used to him not being here. What am I going to do?” She began weeping again, and all Shamar could do was hold her and attempt to comfort her.
After a few minutes, Ashley finally calmed down. She gave him an endearing gaze and reached over and grabbed his hand. “Shamar, I don’t know how to tell you this because I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”
“What’s up?” Shamar knew it was probably something about Jelisa. He knew it wouldn’t be long before people started getting at him about her.
“You know I don’t normally get in people’s business, especially when it comes to relationships. I mean, you were there for my baby when nobody else was, and you been looking out for us as well. You’re like my big brother, so I have to tell you that Jelisa’s been wildin’ out since you left the last time. It’s like she ain’t even trying to hide it. Does she know you’re home?”
Shamar wasn’t surprised; he had long suspected her heart was gone. As much as it hurt, he was cool as long as Mya was okay. But one thing was for sure, he wasn’t going to just walk away. He nodded his head and leaned back on the couch, resting his arm on the edge behind Ashley.
“I know Ash. I mean, come on; you know me. I ain’t ever been the type to let any female play me. I might be a bit of a pushover when it comes to baby girl, but I’m not going to hold on to nobody when they want to go. I’m good, and she can do whatever makes her happy. Ash, honestly, I’m just tired of fighting. I understand that being apart for almost a year can ruin a relationship; so, at this point, I’m not even mad.”
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