by Nikki Turner
Rydah knew that Miami was the hub for credit card scammers, AKA swipers, and she was well aware that they came in all shades, colors, and sizes. There was no stereotype to put them in. Miami was home to the most sophisticated scammers in the world.
Rydah studied him, knowing that in Miami there were three classes of people: the haves, the have-nots, and the haves who have not paid for a damn thing, AKA the scammers. If she had to bet on it, there was something and everything about this fella that said he was definitely a have.
Tallhya thanked the stranger for his generosity.
He smiled and said, “Mind if I sit for a second?” as he slid into the booth beside Tallhya.
“Looks like you already did.”
“Forgive me if you think that I’m being too presumptuous. It’s not every day that a man gets to sit next to a gorgeous lady such as yourself. I like to take advantage when life offers me opportunities as such.”
Tallhya instantly noticed that his cologne was intoxicating and his swag was definitely on point.
Rydah said, “Thanks for picking up our bill, but um . . . I don’t even know what to call you. My name is Rydah; and you are?” She extended her hand.
He cleared his throat. “My name is Alphonso. But my endearing friends call me Fonz.”
“I’m Natallhya, and my endearing friends call me Tallhya.’”
“Well, Tallhya, I hope to one day be able to call you Tallhya.”
This guy was really pushing it at Tallhya, hardcore, Rydah noticed, but Tallhya was being reserved. She wanted yell to her sister, “Don’t let him get away!”
Tallhya was intrigued, but she was also skeptical. She asked, “Do you live around here?”
“On Sunny Isles.”
“Fancy,” Rydah said, knowing that Sunny Isles was dubbed the French Riveria of Florida, filled with high-rise, high-dollar condos on the ocean.
“I like it,” he modestly said.
“And who are you shopping for?” Tallhya nodded toward his bags
Again, he beamed that enticing white smile. “I got myself a suit, a couple of shirts and a little watch.”
“A Hublot is no little watch,” Rydah said. “I think it would be better described as a timepiece,” she said as her eyes pierced the bag.
Fonz turned to Tallhya. “May I ask if you’re married or not? I mean, I don’t see a ring or anything.”
“Nope,” Rydah answered for her. “She’s not married.”
“Relationship?”
“My sister is new to town,” Rydah said. “She’s been divorced for quite some time now.”
“Well, this question is for you, Natallhya. Are you open for dinner with me, let’s say, any time in the next couple of days?”
“Ummm . . .” Tallhya wasn’t sure how to respond. “I don’t even know you,” she said. “And I’m not in the business of really hanging out with strangers.”
“That’s why we should go to dinner, to get to know each other.”
“Well, ummm . . .” Tallhya hesitated, turning red. The truth of the matter was that she was a little intimidated. Walter was the only man she had ever really dated, and he stole all of her money and tore her self-esteem down to dust in the process. She couldn’t believe someone as handsome as Fonz wanted to get to know her. What was his motive?
Sitting down, he must not be able to tell how big I am, she thought. But what if he doesn’t care?
Tallhya wasn’t ready to take the chance of entertaining the idea of someone actually liking her and getting her feelings hurt. It was almost easier not to open up that can of worms than to gamble with her feelings.
As if he could read her mind, before Tallhya could turn him down, he said, “Let’s at least exchange numbers. Take it back to the old school. Get to know each other a little over the phone, and then dinner? Can you go along with that?” He was confident in his delivery.
Not nearly as confident as Fonz was, Tallhya said, “I guess.”
Pulling out his phone, Fonz wasted no time. “So, what’s your number?”
Tallhya gave it to him, and Fonz locked it in.
He asked, “Are you going to answer when I call?” Her phone rang. “That’s me. Lock me in.”
“I wouldn’t have given you the number if I didn’t plan to answer,” she said.
“And what’s your number, sister? Just in case Natallhya doesn’t answer, I’m going to call you to get her on the phone for me. Deal?”
Rydah laughed.
Fonz said, “I’m dead serious.”
Rydah could see that Tallhya was a little shell shocked, so she took it upon herself to ask the tough questions. “Exactly what is it that you want with my sister?”
Fonz responded by saying, “I’m not sure what your question is.”
“What are your intentions with my sister?” she said, rephrasing her query.
“Just to get to know her better.”
Tallhya interjected. “That’s what they all say.”
“Well, I’m not them all by a long shot,” countered Fonz. “But if you don’t give me a chance, I can’t prove you wrong.”
“Give the brother a chance, sis. And if he’s full of shit, you already know we’ll deal with him.”
“I’m shaking in my boots.”
Rydah said, “You should be.”
“All I’m asking is to be given a chance,” Fonz said. He stood up. “But I’m not going to intrude on your time or space too much longer.”
Both Rydah and Tallhya were pleasantly impressed with him. Tallhya thanked him for paying their restaurant tab again.
“Hopefully it will be the first of many.” Before parting, he said, “I’m going to call you tonight, okay? Pick up and hear me out.”
Rydah assured him, “She’ll listen as long as you’re not blowing hot air.”
“That’s all that I ask of you. The ear of a good girl that’s not all caught up in the streets.”
When Fonz left, Rydah exclaimed, “Girrrlllll, he was fine! And he threw himself at you. You’re sitting there acting all nonchalant and shit, like you a boss playa or something.”
Tallhya wasn’t as optimistic. “He’s only seen me sitting down,” she said. “He has no idea how big I really am.”
“Girl, please. Dude sat beside you, checking you out like you was the last top model or something. He was so engulfed in you that he hardly even knew I was sitting over here.”
“I just don’t have the energy for all the bullshit, lies, and let-downs that come with an insincere relationship.”
“I’m not asking you to marry the dude. Just go out to dinner and get to know him. See what he’s talking about. Have a nice time. You owe it to yourself.”
Tallhya nodded. “I’ll do it.” She giggled. “Dude was hella cute, wasn’t he?”
“Like a cold drink of water. Now, let’s hit up a couple more stores, sis!”
Chapter 24
Bad Time to Post
Good food, a handsome gentleman, and countless shopping bags filled with fabulous finds later, before they knew it, the time had flown by and the stores were closing. The shopping spree was nearly over as the girls headed to the car, giggling.
Rydah had never seen Tallhya so happy. “Today was definitely a good day,” she said as they neatly placed their bags into the trunk of the BMW.
Tallhya couldn’t front. “I had a blast. Thanks, sis—for everything. Who knew what some fresh air and a little retail therapy could do for the sick and shut-in?”
“Well, I’m not one to say I told you so, but . . .” Then her phone chimed. “It’s a text from Mom. She wants me to remind you to take your meds.”
“Damn! I’d forgotten, too.”
Rydah said, “And you know it took her forever to compose that text message. She old school.”
They laughed.
Rydah closed the trunk while Tallhya headed to the driver’s side of the BMW. “You cool with driving still?” Rydah asked. “If you’re tired, I can take the wheel.”
/> “I’m good. You going to have to pry that steering wheel from my cold, dead hands.”
“I hope not.” Rydah was about to get in on the passenger’s side before she changed her mind. “Let me go get us some bottled waters so you can take your meds. I don’t wanna hear Mother’s mouth,” she said. “And trust me, you don’t either.” She laughed as she reached for a few singles out of her billfold. “Hydrate! Hydrate! Hydrate!” Rydah imitated her mother.
“I know that’s right. You don’t want her to beat your ass for not looking after her new favorite daughter,” Tallhya teased.
Rydah said over her shoulder, “You wish,” as she walked away from the car.
Tallhya cranked the engine and cut on the A.C. As she waited for Rydah to return with the waters, she checked on social media. It had been a while since she had been on any of the sites.
The moment she began scrolling Facebook, she saw it. Buffy had blasted her timeline with selfies, one after another.
Another one.
Who the fuck posts this many selfies wearing the same outfit, just slightly different poses? Tallhya answered her own question. This bitch Buffy, that’s who.
For some reason, the pictures of Buffy smiling made her more furious by the second. She didn’t think Buffy had a right to be happy, posting all over social media like nothing had happened. Tallhya looked into the rearview mirror. When she took off the sunglasses, though it wasn’t as bad and it was healing, the bruise was still visible on her eye. Her blood rose by a couple degrees, instantly.
Tallhya slapped the steering wheel of her car. This bitch ain’t learned about posting yet! That was the way I got at yo’ ass the last time.
Tallhya studied the screen. Then it hit her. Wait a minute!
Buffy was at Bal Harbour Mall . . . the same mall she and Rydah were at.
God works in mysterious ways, doesn’t He?
She zeroed in closer and studied the pictures. In a few of the photos, Buffy was with two other chicks. If the last couple of photos were an indication, they were on the second level parking deck, one level below where she was parked. It was indeed a small world, with so many big possibilities.
Tallhya looked over her shoulder. Rydah was making her way back to the car. Tallhya geared it into reverse as Rydah got in.
“Here you go.”
Tallhya took a sip of the water. “Buckle your seatbelt,” she said. “Tight.”
Rydah’s expression said, “What’s up?” as she buckled her safety belt.
Tallhya simply said, “Today may be our lucky day.” Then she smiled at her sister and tapped the gas. The engine of the Beamer purred.
On deck 2, Buffy stood in the middle of the lot, still posing and taking selfies, paying attention to nothing but the angle of her camera. Tallhya zeroed in on the little ho and mashed the gas. In her mind, she planned to kill Buffy by running into the bitch at 50 mile per hour, breaking bones as if they were twigs, killing her instantly. A hit and run.
The worst part of the whole thing would be that they would probably have to get rid of the car, at least for a while. But there was no reward without sacrifice.
The Beamer was five feet away. Just before impact, three words ran through Tallhya’s head—Slow. Painful. Death.—causing her to stomp the brakes. She wanted Buffy to suffer. The car slowed, but the at fifty miles per hour, the anti-lock breaks weren’t designed to stop the car instantly. The Beamer clipped Buffy’s side, knocking her off her feet. Buffy flew a couple feet into the air in one direction, and her blond wig in another.
A “What the fuck?” expression was plastered on Rydah’s face.
With no time to stop, the driver of a Honda Accord ran into the back of the Beamer. Tallhya couldn’t care less about the damage to the car or who saw what she did next.
Tallhya jumped out of the car. Rydah reached in her black Celine purse, came out with a .25-caliber pistol, and jumped out of the car, seconds behind her sister.
Tallhya stood over Buffy, who was bruised and bleeding. “Slow and painful, bitch?” Tallhya wasn’t thinking straight. All she wanted was retribution. “Be careful what you wish on other people, because it may come back to bite you.”
Buffy looked as if she wanted to cry, hoping Rydah would feel some semblance of pity and help her.
Rydah burst her bubble. “I don’t give one solitary fuck about your tears, bitch.” She pointed the .25 directly at Buffy’s dome. “You set me up to die.”
Buffy had a broken leg and a laceration on her forehead. “No,” she said, still crying. “It wasn’t like that.”
Tallhya said, “Know this, bitch . . .” She didn’t really care what Buffy thought it was like. “Every time I see you, I’m going to whip yo’ ass. And I put that on my grandma’s grave!” To get her point across, Tallhya punched Buffy in the face.
Two guys approached. At first they thought that it was the mall’s security or undercover police, but then Rydah recognized one of them. They were Wolfe’s people.
“Did Wolfe tell you to follow us?” she asked.
JoMo, the one she knew, nodded.
The other guy moved swiftly. He opened the trunk of the BMW and took the bags out, placing them in the back seat of the Benz that they were driving. JoMo instructed Rydah to take the Benz home. “Wolfe will call you shortly,” he said.
“We don’t want her dead,” Rydah told JoMo.
“That’s no longer your problem,” JoMo said coldly.
“I’m serious,” she said.
“I hear you,” said JoMo.
Rydah searched his expressionless face for an indication as to whether he was lying. JoMo’s reputation was as ruthless as Wolfe’s, and that was scary for Buffy. Her last minutes amongst the living could very well be spent in the trunk of a car.
If it was true, there was nothing more Rydah could for her. She tapped Tallhya on the shoulder. “We gotta roll.”
Buffy started screaming for help. JoMo’s friend put a piece of tape over her mouth, silencing her.
Rydah gave her one last parting bit of advice. “You need to learn not to fuck with us Banks sisters,” she said.
Chapter 25
Not Stable
Rydah knew better than to go to her parents’ house, so she went home. Wolfe showed up a few minutes later.
When he walked in, the two ladies were sitting on the plush white leather sofa, talking. They got quiet when they saw Wolfe. Looking at each other, they both knew that they were in big trouble.
Tallhya took the blame. “It’s my fault, brother-in-law.”
Rydah was angry with Wolfe. “You had someone following us and you didn’t even tell us?”
Wolfe was blunt. “Damn right. And it’s a good thing that I did.”
Rydah shook her head as Wolf poured himself a drink.
“So your first day out of the house,” he said to Tallhya, “you roll over a bitch in broad daylight, damn near killing her?”
“Basically,” said Tallhya, cucumber-cool
“So . . .” Wolfe started.
Tallhya cut him off.
“Like I told Rydah, if the police show up, then I’ll take the weight. I just got out the asylum and I got papers that say I’m not stable. They know I’m not working with it all.”
“Really?” Wolfe looked at Tallhya with a raised eyebrow.
“I know you’re mad, but I couldn’t help myself. When I saw that bitch giggling and flossing on social media, fifteen feet below where we were parked, I had to react. I guess I wasn’t thinking.”
“That was where you went wrong,” Wolfe said. “You weren’t thinking. If you’re going to do something that’s against the law, the first rule is to always think it out first, then react.”
Wolfe sat on the sofa, enjoying every moment of Tallhya’s rant. She was a firecracker and he admired her heart. He secretly wished that Rydah were more like her. But then he thought again. Having two loose wires on his hands, in his home life, may be too much headache. It would grow old. Though he lo
ved Tallhya’s unpredictability, there was still something about Rydah’s easygoing, peaceful spirit that tended to balance him out. She was definitely the Yin to his Yang.
“I told that bitch I’m going to beat her ass every time I lay eyes on her, and I meant it.”
“Calm down,” said Wolfe. “I got it from here.”
Tallhya was cool with Wolfe taking care of the problem. She just had one request. “Whatever you do to her,” she said, “make sure that it’s done slow and painfully. The bitch deserves it.”
“I said that I got it, didn’t I?”
“Yes! I know you have it, but she told those guys that she wanted us to die a slow and painful death.”
“Well, I got her. Let me handle her.”
Rydah was still stuck on the fact that Wolfe had had them followed. “You could have told us what you were doing.”
He sat down between the two ladies. Wolfe shook his head. “You back on that again?”
“Yes. I’m back on that.”
“Never the one to throw anything in your face, but it was a good thing I did have you followed.”
Rydah didn’t want to admit it, but secretly, she was glad that he had. If JoMo hadn’t intervened when he did, there was no telling how things may have turned out.
She asked Wolfe, “What did you do with Buffy?”
All he said was, “I got her.”
That wasn’t enough for Rydah. “Is she dead?”
Wolfe shook his head. “She’s safe, just where she needs to be.”
Rydah could tell when Wolfe was lying to her, and he wasn’t. To ease the tension in the room, she kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks, babe, for having our back. You’re always on point. That’s one of the reasons why I love you so much. You’re the best, and I’m glad you belong to me.”
“Yeah,” Tallhya said, “them dudes rolled up like the feds, moving all professional and shit.”
“Yeah,” Rydah joked, “but that didn’t stop Tallhya from wanting to beat the life out of Buffy, though.”
“I was like . . . what the hell, if the police here, I’m going down anyway.”
“And she knew I was right there with her.”
“Yup, pistol in her hand, wanting a bitch to move the wrong way,” Tallhya said.