by Qiana London
He attempted to loosen my grip with both of his hands. By now, a few of the partygoers had begun to take notice.
“Khalil, please let him go.” There was fear in Dezzy’s voice.
I let him go, and he bent over, attempting to regain control of his breathing.
“Now get yo’ bitch ass on,” I added.
I turned my attention back to Dezzy, but she wasn’t there. Shit. I fucked up.
Chapter Four
It had been four days and I still hadn’t talked to Dezzy. We had sent occasional text messages, but that was it. I never meant to embarrass her and tried to let shit slide, but her ex had taken it too far when he touched me. As far as I was concerned, I simply reacted in self-defense. I knew she would come around. After all, she was at least responding to my text messages now, which was progress because she wasn’t accepting my calls. In the meantime, I had to remain focused on what I had to do and on what had brought us together in the first place.
I looked out the window as Snow drove down Highway 237 to Mountain View. We were on our way to Melanie’s house so that we could discuss our next move since the guilty verdict had come back and sentencing had taken place. Diandre would be going to prison, but that wasn’t good enough for me. I was determined to teach his ass a lesson. I was in a zone until Snow broke my train of thought.
“You know I still want to kick your ass for messing with my money, Khalil,” he started. “But if the tables were turned, I may have done the same thing. Then again, I can’t stand my brother, so I might have taken advantage of the opportunity.”
He was talking about the fact that Craig had decided to take my advice and let the girl go. My brother had gotten in contact with me since the last time we’d spoken to discuss the proposition again.
“Alright, if I do this for you, what’s in it for me?”
“I’ll make it worth your while. What’s he paying you?”
“Fifteen racks.”
“I’ll double that and I’ll owe you one.”
“Shit, Khalil! What kind of business are you operating?”
“Do we have a deal?”
“Consider it done.”
The girl had been returned home safely without our intervention. Sure, we took a hit financially, but I knew we would be alright. There would be plenty of opportunities for us to recoup what we had lost.
“I know you’re never gonna let me hear the end of it either. We ain’t hurting, though. It’s not like we’re going to miss that money.”
“Shit, speak for yourself. I can never have too much.”
“Greedy bastard,” I replied and laughed.
He drove down the street and turned into the parking garage behind a pharmacy.
“Why are we stopping? I thought we needed to get to Mel’s house.”
“Yeah, I know. We’re here.”
Melanie had recently moved, and I hadn’t been to her new place. Snow responded to the confused look on my face. “She stays in those townhomes across the street.”
“Oh okay. I was about to say—”
“Say what? You don’t care anymore, right?”
“What do you mean? Of course, I care. We may not be in a relationship anymore, but we’re still cool. I will always care about her.”
“Whatever, man,” he replied and laughed. “Let’s go.”
Snow hopped out of the car first and waited for me to get out so he could activate his alarm. “And don’t bump my shit against the wall when you open the door.”
“Shut up and learn how to park!”
After he set the alarm, we walked across the street, up a small flight of stairs, and through a small courtyard before we reached Mel’s door. Before either of us could raise our hand to knock, she called out to us from inside.
“Come on in! It’s open!”
I scanned the doorway quickly before I spotted her hidden camera doorbell. I smiled to myself as I walked behind Snow into the townhouse, stopping briefly to lock the door after we’d entered. Melanie always said, ‘If you stay ready, you ain’t got to get ready.’ She told me and Snow that she stayed prepared so that she’d never get caught slipping. She worked in ground intelligence while we were enlisted. My unit stayed in heavy contact with hers when we went on various missions, which is how I initially met her. But we became close after we spent time together during the periods when we weren’t on assignment. We always had to be mindful of our relationship when we were in front of certain officers, but Snow knew the truth.
“I’m in here, you two,” she called from a distance.
We walked further into her place and rounded a corner into her living room. She had a 120-inch flat-screen television mounted on the wall, which doubled as a computer monitor. Melanie was sitting on her couch Indian-style, punching a series of numbers and letters onto the cordless keyboard on her lap. She didn’t stop to acknowledge us right way. Instead, she stared intently at the screen. After a few more keystrokes, photographs of Diandre and two other men appeared on the screen.
“Damn, Mel. You don’t waste any time, do you?” Snow inquired.
“Time is of the essence, right?”
She wore black yoga pants and a grey tank top. She was in great shape, slightly muscular, but still feminine. Her hair was pulled back into a bun, showing off her soft features. Her glasses sat low on her nose, and she didn’t have on any makeup. She had clear cinnamon skin, so she didn’t need it. If you didn’t know her, she appeared sweet and harmless. But I knew her personally, so I knew that there was more to her than met the eye. Not to mention, the P938, which sat next to her on the end table that she always kept within arm’s reach was a reminder that she wasn’t to be fucked with.
“I know, but damn, can we come in and sit down first? You got anything to eat?”
She sucked her teeth before answering. “Whatever, Snow. You know where it is.”
He left the room and headed to the kitchen.
She still hadn’t looked in my direction. Even though we worked together, she often avoided communicating with me directly unless she absolutely had to. Maybe Snow was right, and she was holding on to a grudge from the past. I never meant to hurt her, and no matter how many times I tried to apologize, things were never the same. But it was time to resolve this shit once and for all. We made too great of a team to let one drunken night ruin our professional relationship, and quite frankly, the friendship we once had.
“Hey, how are you doin’, Mel?” I walked toward the couch.
As I got closer, she shifted uncomfortably in her seat, but remained seated. “I’m good, Khalil. How are you?”
She used the keyboard to open classified files on the screen. I sat down next to her and I’m sure I heard her hold her breath. I reached over and took the keyboard away from her.
“I’d believe you really cared how I’m doing if you would look at me.”
She let out a long sigh and removed her glasses before turning her attention to me. She was clearly irritated. I studied her face for a minute before I spoke. I could see the hurt in her eyes.
“Look, Melanie, I never meant to hurt you—”
“Don’t.”
“Hear me out, Mel.”
“What’s done is done, Khalil. I’m over it.”
“Clearly, you’re not. How are we supposed to move forward if you’re still holding on to things from the past?”
“I’m not holding on to anything. I told you I’m over it.”
“This is me, Khalil, you’re talking to. You know I can read you, so I can tell you’ve clearly got a problem with me.”
She turned her head and avoided eye contact. She knew I was right although I knew she’d never admit it.
“I’m sitting right here, Melanie. Say whatever it is you need to say. Get it off your chest so we can get past it.”
She was quiet for several minutes before repositioning herself so that her feet rested on the floor. She scooted toward the edge of the cushion and rested her elbows on her knees as she stared
at the floor. I watched her contemplate what she was going to say to me, preparing myself for what might come out of her mouth. She finally turned her attention back to me just as Snow returned to the living room with a bag of chips and a bottle of water.
“You know what, Khalil? Fuck you! I fucking hate you!”
Snow turned around and walked right back out.
Her words hit hard. I could tell that she meant them. I knew I wasn’t one of her favorite people, but I didn’t know it was to this extent. I sat back on the couch and made a conscious decision to let her finish. She needed to get this off her chest. She’d never gotten a chance to tell me how she felt after that night in Okinawa.
Snow slid the seventh shot he’d bought across the bar to me.
“Happy birthday, bro!” he yelled over the music.
We had some downtime, so some of the guys in my unit had decided to take me out to celebrate. This night, a lot of the local women were here and on the prowl. One woman had been pushing up on me hard, and now she was on the stage putting on a full karaoke performance of “Don’t Cha” while looking right at me. Her singing sucked, but her ass was fat for a Japanese girl.
“Damn, Khalil, she’s really throwing it at you.”
“She’s gonna keep playing around and I just might catch it too. The only thing missing from this night is some birthday booty.”
“Yeah, dude. Totally sucks for you that Melanie had to work tonight.”
“It sure does,” I replied and threw back the shot. “But what Melanie doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
When the song finished, I gave her a knowing nod. She quickly came over, whispered the number to her room above the bar, and headed out the door.
“I’ll be back, Snow.”
*****
I was pulling her hair as I hit it from the back when I heard Snow’s voice from a distance in the hallway. I didn’t let that stop me. I was about to bust and anything he needed could wait. Just as I was about to blow, I heard commotion on the other side of the door.
“Mel, he’s probably back in the bar by now.”
“Snow, you know damn well I ain’t falling for that shit.”
Before I could react, Melanie kicked the door in. The girl screamed as Melanie looked back and forth between the two of us.
Finally, her eyes locked on mine. “Un-fucking-believable.”
“Mel, wait a minute,” I said, hurrying to get dressed.
She pushed past Snow and was gone before I could catch her.
“I trusted you and confided things in you that no one else knows. I gave you my heart, and you told me you’d never hurt me. But it’s my own fault. I should have left your ass alone. I knew you were trouble, seeing the way all of those women would throw themselves at you. I thought you were different, though. You had a way of making me feel like I was the only woman in the world, like no one else mattered. You made me fall in love with you, Khalil. I never thought you would break my heart.” She turned her attention away from me and stood up.
“Where are you going?”
“Shit, I need a drink!”
“Hold up a minute.”
“Khalil, I really don’t want to hear what you have to say. You wanted me to tell you how I feel, and I did.”
“I know, but—”
“We’re good, alright? Please just let it go.”
Snow came back into the living room. He looked at us as if he was trying to determine whether it was safe to enter the room.
“When I get back, we’re getting to work.” She left the room.
Snow sat down in a chair across the couch. “What the hell was that? Did you tell her about Dezzy?”
“She finally got some shit off her chest. And no, I didn’t. I’m not sure that I will and if I do, it won’t be anytime soon.”
“Yeah, I wouldn’t either. She already can’t stand your ass. Telling her will probably send her over the edge.”
“Definitely. And right now we need everyone’s head in the game. I don’t want to create any further distractions.”
“That is very true.”
We sat in silence until Melanie returned. When she did, she was carrying a bottle of Don Julio in one hand and held three tumbler glasses with ice between her fingers with the other. She sat the glasses down on the coffee table, opened the bottle, and began pouring the tequila.
“Drink up, assholes.”
“Why I gotta be an asshole?” Snow asked, reaching for a glass. “I ain’t even do shit. Khalil is the one you’re pissed at.”
“Shut up, Snow,” I replied.
Melanie filled the final glass before setting the bottle down on the table. I picked up the tumbler that was left.
“Both of you shut up,” she added before taking her seat again on the couch. “I’ve thought of another way to reach Diandre now that we know he’s headed to prison.”
“I’m listening,” I said.
Snow leaned forward, giving Melanie his undivided attention.
“We need to strike as he’s transported to prison. We can’t let him make it to his destination because if we do, things will get super complicated.”
I sat back on the couch and took a sip of my drink. Snow and Melanie watched me, waiting for my response. I was running several different scenarios through my head. She was right. We had to take advantage of the window of opportunity.
“This could definitely work, but we’re going to have to call in some favors. We also need to know for sure where he’s being transported so that we can anticipate obstacles.”
“I’m already ahead of the game. I did some research, asked around, and was able to get in contact with one of the case record technicians over at the Department of Corrections and Rehabilitation. It took some work and heavy convincing on my part, but I was able to get him to talk.”
“Him, huh? And just how did you pull that off?” Snow asked.
“Kiss my ass, white boy.”
“I would, but I’d fuck your head up if I put my lips on you.”
“I highly doubt that,” she retorted.
I shook my head at the exchange. I knew Snow was a habitual flirt and that he was all talk, at least when it came to Melanie. But even if he decided to try his luck, I no longer had romantic feelings for her, so I wasn’t fazed either way.
“Anyway, he told me that Diandre has already completed the reception and assessment process. He’s going to be transferred to San Quentin.”
“Cool. So do we know who they have in place to transport him?” I asked.
“Well, that’s the good news, and you’re going to owe me big time.”
“Let us hear it,” Snow said.
“I was also able to convince the technician to add MSK Mobile to their list of contracted private security companies used for inmate transportation.” She smiled as she began to type on her keyboard again. Several documents appeared on the monitor. “This that you’re looking at, gentlemen, is the official business documentation for MSK Mobile, our shell security company.”
“Get the fuck outta here! This is almost too easy,” Snow said.
“You can thank me later. I like large bills,” she added. “I figured this would be a win-win for us. We’ll be up close and personal with Diandre, and it’s also a chance for us to make some money since somebody interfered with the last job.”
They both looked at me, and I turned my glass up to my lips, ignoring them. I was concentrating on what was being presented to me.
“Yeah, we can definitely make this work. I will call in a few favors so we can be hands-on from a distance. I know someone who can help us get some guys to pose as our transportation guards. I want to catch Diandre by surprise,” I informed them. “Now, what’s the bad news?”
I could tell by the way Melanie had presented her statement that while there was good news, there was also a catch. She went to work on the keyboard and brought the photos of Diandre and the two men back up.
“Those two men are a reason for concern. The one o
n the left is Clyde Emerson, also known as Nino Brown, and the other one is Dwight Washington who is known on the streets as MacGyver. They work for Diandre as hit men. They struck a deal with the authorities and they had some damn good lawyers. They flipped on their boy and in exchange for their testimonies, they were granted immunity. The problem, though, is that I have some sources on the street who say it was planned. They did what they had to do to be released. They don’t intend on letting Diandre go to prison.” She paused for a moment. “We aren’t the only ones who are trying to take advantage of this window of opportunity.”
“Well, we’re gonna be ready for their asses,” I replied. “Mel, do you mind if we order in? It’s going to be a long night.”
Chapter Five
I sat on the far end of the gray sectional that took up the majority of the space in Raijean’s living room. Donte spent most of his time at her place, but he still went back and forth to his mother’s house. When I wanted to connect with him, this was where I usually ended up. The small space that looked as though it was once plush and organized was now covered with toys and baby clothes. Clearly, they were still adjusting to life as new parents. I peered out of the vertical blinds that moved back and forth from the wind blowing through the large window. I watched cars pass on the street while I waited for Donte to return from the kitchen where he was preparing a bottle for his daughter, Kennedy. Five minutes later, he returned to the living room with a bottle in one hand and used his other one to hold her bottom as he braced her against his chest. He carefully sat the bottle down on the black wood coffee table, and gently laid Kennedy on her back onto the extended portion of the couch. He grabbed a diaper and baby wipes from the bottom shelf of the coffee table, sat down next to her, and began to unsnap her onesie to change her. I had to admit that I was impressed with how he did everything so effortlessly.
“I need to take a picture of this shit, Tay. I never thought I’d see the day you were doing the bottles and diapers thing,” I said and laughed.