by Anna J.
When Daphne arrived, Ruby was already deep in a game of pool against a tall, handsome man who looked like a young athlete. On closer inspection, Daphne recognized the NBA star. He looked like he was embarrassed as he watched both Ruby’s plump bottom and her shot on the pool table. Almost every man in the place looked at her tight, low-cut jeans with the strap of her thong showing. Ruby loved the attention she received from men, and doubly enjoyed telling them after they hit on her that she was into women.
When she saw Daphne, she smiled and refocused back on her shot. There was only the black eight ball on the table, so obviously this was the end of the game. Ruby tapped the table with the pool stick, then pointed the stick at one of the corner pockets. She hit the eight ball and watched as it slowly made its way to its destination. When it dropped in the hole, the NBA guy sighed and reached into his pocket to remove a small stack of cash to hand to her.
“Don’t be stingy with that NBA money. Pay up,” Ruby teased as she counted the money. She smiled at the guy. “Stick to basketball. This ain’t you.”
The basketball star laughed while eyeing Daphne. Those eyes of hers could really make a man weak on resisting. He had noticed her when she walked in like every other guy in the place. Her confident swagger, blended with the beautiful face and sexy physique, was a sight for sore eyes. These men just didn’t know that their chances of scoring with her were slimmer than a young boy’s chances of not being violated in a room full of Catholic priests.
“You gonna let me try and win my money back or introduce me to your friend?” His voice was Kobe Bryant deep as he approached the table Daphne and Ruby had taken to talk.
“I’m not here to socialize with strangers. If you could be so kind and leave me and my friend to talk, that would be appreciated,” Daphne blurted, placing her Hermès bag on the table and not even looking at him. The basketball star shook his head and walked off.
“Damn, girl, that man is fine,” Ruby said, laughing, before turning her attention to Daphne. “Are you okay?”
“I’m no one’s groupie, and I don’t have time for headaches,” Daphne shot back. Ruby looked at her for a moment and could tell by her tone and body language that something was on her mind. Something that seemed to be eating at her.
“So what’s up, Daphne? What’s good? Tell me about Jamaica.”
“It was a good trip for me, but I’m not sure it was for Mecca,” she responded, looking directly into Ruby’s eyes. She always noticed that the mention of Mecca’s name made Ruby’s facial expression change. Mecca was a sensitive topic for her. The guilt was still an issue for Ruby because she had not stopped blaming herself for what happened to her.
“Why do you say that? Did something go wrong?” Ruby asked in a low voice.
For a moment Daphne looked into her eyes and knew that she did not want to hear sad news about Mecca. Ruby was tired of blaming herself for Mecca’s downfall.
“Nothing went wrong. Something is wrong. Very wrong,” Daphne stated.
Ruby stiffened, ready to go on the defensive. “What do you mean?”
“Something is eating at her, Ruby. What do you think it is?”
“The girl just came out of a coma—”
“She’s been out of the coma for a year now. That’s not it,” Daphne said, cutting her off.
“Why are you asking me, Daphne? Ask her!” Ruby shot back as she began to feel the anger rise within. Daphne seemed to be cross-examining her, as if Mecca’s attitude was somehow Ruby’s fault.
Daphne was tempted to tell her that she did question Mecca about the look she gave Ruby and Karmen, but Mecca’s answer about both women sleeping with her boyfriend didn’t convince her that that was the root of the problem.
“I asked you because you’re her aunt. You know her better than anyone else. Talk to her, Ruby. It’s like you’ve been around her, and maybe that’s the problem. Y’all were close before you went to jail. Maybe she feels your time away made y’all grow apart.”
Ruby looked away, as if her attention was diverted to something else in the restaurant. She wouldn’t tell anyone that the guilt she felt was deeper than just Mecca being shot. That was just the surface of the matter. Ruby felt that if she hadn’t set Bobby Blast up to be robbed and both of them hadn’t got killed, Mecca would have grown up living with her parents, who would not have allowed her to run the streets and get knee-deep into the game.
Ruby’s time in jail had made her reflect on the mistake that she’d made raising Mecca the way she did. What kind of person would do that to her own flesh and blood? She told herself she had to accept who she was, but not what she’d made out of Mecca. She wouldn’t allow her to be involved in street life ever again. It would be over her dead body. Ruby sighed.
“You’re right, Daphne. I’ll have a talk with her. Where did she go?”
“She’s with Miguel.”
“With who?” Ruby’s eyes widened. Daphne looked dumbfounded. She’d forgot that Ruby wasn’t aware of Mecca and Miguel. She’d let the cat out of the bag, so she decided that she would tell all.
“You didn’t know they were messing with one another?”
“No, I didn’t know that. And when was I going to find out?” Ruby grumbled.
Daphne took a sip of her chocolate milkshake and shrugged.
“That’s why this bitch Karmen been acting up lately,” Ruby said, shaking her head. Now Daphne was confused.
“Acting up? What did she do?”
After Ruby explained about Karmen’s plot to have the store robbed, Daphne growled in anger. “I’m not too enthused about all the killings, but on this one, do what you see fit.”
Four days after Christmas, the snow blanketed the streets. Christmas lights blinked on and off in houses and storefronts, lighting up the dark streets. Yet something contrary to the holiday spirit was being plotted. Three men in dark apparel sat in a black Lincoln Town car on the side block that Ruby’s store cornered.
“All y’all gotta do is climb the fence and go through the back. The door is open,” the leader of the three-man gang said to his comrades. The leader, who was the one Karmen had conspired with to rob the store, never told his crew that it was more than a robbery, that it was a hit. He didn’t feel it necessary to tell them, because he didn’t plan to split all the spoils.
“I’ma walk in like a regular customer. They about to close, so it won’t be anyone in there,” he said while taking a look at his watch. “Let’s move.”
“I want you to cum in my mouth, Papi,” Tina moaned as she took her new friend, whom she’d just met earlier, in her mouth while he sat on a crate in the back room of the store.
The young Spanish guy held her head as her neck moved up and down and she bent between his knees. His eyes were closed, and Tina never saw the two masked men enter the room. They became aware of their presence when they heard the sound of the gun being cocked.
“Hey, Papi, fun time is over.” A masked man pointed the shotgun in his face.
“Don’t shoot please!” The Spanish guy’s face went pale with fear.
The other gunman pointed his Heckler & Koch MP5 at Tina. “Put homeboy dick back in his pants and lay down on the ground.”
Out front, where Karmen and Maria sat on crates, watching a small color TV, a customer walked into the store. The dark-skinned, medium-high man with a black ski hat on his head, covering his cornrows, which touched the bottom of his shoulders, looked around.
“I forgot to lock the door,” Maria said, looking at the face of the guy, whom she recognized from Bed-Stuy. “We’re closed, Papi!”
“Nah, bitch, I’m just opening up for business.” He smiled at Maria, then quickly brandished a nickel-plated .50-caliber Desert Eagle from the inside of his black leather trench coat. Maria froze in her tracks. Her heart pounded in her chest as she raised her hands.
“Lay on the floor.” He pointed the gun at Maria and then looked at Karmen, who was slowly walking toward Maria. “You do the same, sexy.”
&n
bsp; Karmen and Maria did as they were told. At the same time, Karmen was wondering why he was showing his face. My sisters aren’t supposed to see him! He must be drunk! Dumb-ass nigga!
Two shots rang out from the back of the store. Maria let out a short scream, and Karmen looked up at the man with the gun.
“What the fuck was that? Why are they shooting?” Karmen yelled frantically. She knew it was a setup, but had the plans changed?
“Shut your ass up, bitch! It’s warning shots,” the man spat back sharply. The two masked men came from the back of the store, holding trash bags.
“It’s done,” one of them said to the leader.
“What’s done? Don, what the fuck is going on?” Karmen yelled again, confused as to when the plans had been switched up.
The two masked men looked at Don, confused. How did she know his name? Then they realized he wasn’t wearing a mask. Maria looked at her sister, confused, too. How did she know this man?
“Oh, you remember me?” Don asked, trying to play dumb in front of his partners.
“Don, don’t get all—” Karmen’s words were cut short when he pointed the Desert Eagle at the top of her head and squeezed. Blood and brain matter squirted all over Maria’s face upon impact, but before she could scream, Don put a bullet in her skull, shutting her up forever.
“Yo, son, what the fuck you doing?” one of his partners asked.
“C’mon, we going out the back,” Don replied as he started off, with his crimeys in tow.
When they got in the back, Don saw Tina and her new lover, still alive and tied up, with tape around their mouths.
“Meet me in the car,” Don told his partners. They looked at him as if he were losing his damn mind. “Fuck y’all waiting for? Go ahead!”
Once they did as they were told, Don went to the stash spot Ruby had told him about. It was a small door underneath the small refrigerator. He opened it and removed four pounds of weed inside of a shopping bag. Tina had tears running down her face and held a fearful expression, which got Don off a little bit.
Both of them were mumbling inaudible words right before Don put bullets in their foreheads.
He bent down to pick up the shell casings, like he did when he killed Karmen and Maria, and then exited the store. When he got to the car, where his partners waited, he popped the trunk and placed the shopping bag in it.
“What’s in the bag, Don?” one of his crimeys asked as he got in the passenger seat.
“I got my mom some groceries,” Don lied. He started the car, and the hard beat and lyrics of Beanie Sigel filled the interior as Don sped off.
Mecca tried to open the office door, but it was locked. Confused, she decided to knock instead.
“Lou, you in there? Why is the door locked?”
As she put her ear to the door, she heard movement inside. It sounded like a scuffle was going on and someone was choking.
“Lou, what’s going on? Open up!” Mecca grabbed the doorknob while banging her shoulder against the door.
“Mecca, go away. I will deal with him myself,” answered Doc Benjamin’s voice.
Mecca was infuriated. “No!” she screamed, and then, with two hard kicks, the door flew open and Mecca watched as Doc Benjamin had Lou down on the desk, choking him. Mecca reached into her Louis Vuitton purse and removed a nickel-plated, pearl-handled .380 automatic. She pointed the gun at Doc Benjamin’s back and grunted, “You let him go, or I’ll kill your ass.”
“Mecca, those days are over. Plus, you don’t love this man.” Doc Benjamin howled a throaty laugh. He squeezed harder, and Lou’s eyes rolled in his head.
“Let him go!” she yelled as she squeezed the trigger, emptying her gun in Doc’s back.
“It’s okay, baby. No one’s here. You had a nightmare,” Miguel said, holding Mecca’s head against his bare chest as they lay naked in his bed. Miguel could hear her heart beat. He figured her nightmares were from her being shot and going into a coma. However, recurring nightmares of being shot by Tah Gunz weren’t even close to what Mecca was experiencing. Mecca knew that Miguel wouldn’t understand. Nobody would.
Chapter Ten
A whisper separates the best of friends.
—Proverbs 16:28
Club Opium was jam-packed with people from all walks of life as the Las Vegas club hosted a “welcome home” celebration sponsored by the famous Don Diva magazine. A who’s who of the famous and infamous was in attendance, from athletes and entertainers to politicians and gangsters. With this high-profile gathering, law enforcement from government and local agencies were also strategically roaming the premises, eyeing targets of criminal investigations and their associates, potential targets themselves. Against Daphne’s advice, Ruby attended the event, because she was invited to welcome home her former cell mate, friend, and lover after a ten-year stint.
“Why don’t you and her celebrate it privately? That place gonna be crawling with feds,” Daphne had warned, only to have her words fall on deaf ears.
There was no way Ruby was going to miss it. She would not just see her lover, but she didn’t tell Daphne that the people from Don Diva wanted to do a story on Ruby’s life in the eighties, up until her arrest and conviction. When Ruby had shared that news with Mecca in an attempt to reach out to her and rekindle the bond they had had prior to her imprisonment, Mecca simply stated that she didn’t think that would be wise. In fact, she thought it was plain stupid.
“I know what and what not to say. Plus, double jeopardy is against the law,” Ruby had replied, taken aback by Mecca’s tone. Mecca shrugged while she read an Essence magazine while sitting in Ruby’s kitchen.
“It’s your life.”
Thinking to herself, Ruby realized that she didn’t have time to keep trying to be nice to someone who got an attitude for God knows what. If that’s the way Mecca wants it, then fuck it. Truth be told, Ruby was saddened by the way Mecca treated her, but she sucked it up.
“I love my niece,” she’d explained to Daphne, “but I’m no ass kisser.”
To Ruby, it was a good thing Daphne had helped Mecca find an apartment of her own, because Ruby hated feeling like she was living with a stranger. Ruby believed in her heart that Mecca needed her own space. In the meantime, Ruby had got a call from her friend Tashera from Harlem, stating that she was coming home and that her father was throwing a celebration in Vegas, sponsored by Don Diva, who did a story on Tashera “Tashy” Williams.
Ruby stepped out of her rented baby blue X5, handed her keys to the valet, and walked the red carpet into the club. She was definitely a head turner when she appeared wearing a skin-gripping white catsuit under a waist-length chinchilla and a pair of Jimmy Choo heels. The short Halle Berry haircut made it easy to spot the sparkling Harry Winston diamond earrings that adorned her earlobes, and above her bulging cleavage sat a diamond choker to match. Ruby walked and looked like money. Before entering the party, she gave her name to a man standing at the podium, checking a list. The party was exclusively invites only. The man checked the list and smiled at her.
“Ms. Davidson, Ms. Williams told me when you came to call her so that she could walk you in herself.”
The man dialed a number on his cell phone and spoke when a person answered, informing them that Ruby was there. He looked at Ruby with a smile that was becoming annoying to her. Ruby hated a kiss ass. No more than a minute later, a short, deliciously dark-skinned female ran toward Ruby excitedly. Ruby opened her arms to embrace her friend. Both women were overly excited to see one another; it was a much-awaited reunion for both of them.
“Tashy, what’s good, Ma?” Ruby asked while hugging Tashy, then releasing her to look into her eyes. They weren’t used to seeing each other in clothing that wasn’t prison issue.
Tashy knew from Ruby’s letters that she was doing well in the world. She didn’t send Tashy pictures, because they weren’t allowed to correspond with former inmates in the prison, so they stayed writing every month.
“Damn, Ruby, you l
ook good, baby,” Tashy said, grabbing Ruby’s arm and walking her into the club.
“All this is for you, Tashy? Your father loves his baby,” Ruby responded as she scanned the club, which was decorated with “welcome home” banners, noting the live entertainment from the hottest hip-hop and R & B stars, the free food, and drinks of the most expensive kind.
“Daddy’s little girl, even at the age of thirty-seven,” Tashy giggled.
They met before Ruby was transferred out of the women’s federal detention center in Virginia. Tashy came to the prison in 1992, after being convicted of money laundering and federal tax evasion. The initial investigation was directed at her father, a one-time member of a heroin-dealing organization headed by the notorious kingpin Frank Matthews, who had disappeared from sight after posting a two-million-dollar bail.
Tashy’s father, Tommy “Scooter” Williams, was allegedly a lieutenant in the Matthews organization, but the government couldn’t prove it. Tashy owned a hair salon in Harlem, which Scooter had bought her and which he used to wash his money. When Tashy started living a lifestyle that owning a hair salon couldn’t provide, the government was watching. Informants told the government that dope was sold out of the place, so the feds felt that arresting Tashy would put Scooter in a bind. They figured he would give himself up to save his only daughter. They knew how close they were and figured they had Scooter at last. They were wrong.
They had no idea how much of a trooper Tashy was and how far she would go for her father. Even against Scooter’s wishes, Tashy fought the case. She knew they had no solid proof that heroin was being sold from the salon. Her customers were longtime friends from the neighborhood and wouldn’t dare snitch on her.
Everyone loved Tashy in Harlem. She was the most charismatic person and was always in a jovial mood, making everyone around her feel happy even when it wasn’t called for. And she was humble, graceful, and the warmest woman in the neighborhood. Whenever a girlfriend was feeling down, they would go see Tashy, just to talk. She always knew what to say or do to make a person feel good. Tashy would either give the person a free hairdo and makeover or take the sad soul to a movie or out to a club. That was Tashy.