“Live in the flesh,” he stated. “But you can call me B-Dub.”
“Please don’t tell Bryce you saw me dancin’ at a strip club. He’d kill me!” Dixyn blurted out. She had been attracted to becoming a stripper by the vast amount of money Kendra promised she would make and by the notion that she could remain anonymous in this dark, seedy underworld. Ironically, her identity had been discovered her very first night on the job.
“Oh, I doubt that,” B-Dub said calmly. “I hate to say it, but my big bro’s about to get an asshole full of time. He won’t be killin’ nobody anytime soon. C’mere, Dixyn, have a seat while we figure out what to do about this unfortunate incident. I’m sure we can work somethin’ out. But of course, that’s up to you.”
Dixyn was too upset to comprehend everything B-Dub was saying. She sat down in the only other chair in the room and began to cry.
“Damn, Dixyn, you looked so fuckin’ sexy and shit while you was up on that stage,” he continued. “Every nigga in da club wanted a piece of that, ma. Including me. If you were mine, you wouldn’t . . .”
B-Dub’s conversation was going off track and he began hurling sexual innuendoes at Dixyn. She tried to shrug off the comments until it became clear that he was dead serious.
He reached out and ran his palm up Dixyn’s leg, startling her. She quickly brushed his hand away. “What do you want from me?”
B-Dub looked at her and laughed. Then there was an awkward silence. “What do you think I want?” he finally replied. B-Dub let this hang in the air for what seemed to be an eternity before answering his own question: “YOU!”
Chapter Four
Early the next morning, Dixyn’s doorbell sounded loudly several times. She wasn’t expecting any company and assumed it was Kendra, or perhaps the FedEx or UPS man delivering a package. After all, she rarely had visitors to her home, even before Bryce got arrested. In her second-floor bedroom, Dixyn peeked from behind the curtain.
“Shit!” she exclaimed as soon as she laid eyes on B-Dub. She remained frozen behind the curtain watching him. She was unsure of what action to take, whether she should answer the door or act as if she wasn’t home. She stood there silently, weighing her options.
“Dixyn, open up! I know you’re in there!” he called out.
B-Dub’s yelling was all the motivation Dixyn needed—these things didn’t happen in this neighborhood. People in the community were quiet and they kept to themselves. B-Dub could cause a lot of unwanted commotion, which might lead to complaints by neighbors. They already wanted Dixyn out after her town house got raided. She rushed downstairs to answer the door.
“B-Dub, why are you screamin’ out my name? This is a nice neighborhood, it ain’t that kinda party over here,” she reprimanded as she opened the door. “What are you doin’ here? And how do you know where I live?”
“Look, that’s neither here nor there,” he responded. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll let me in.”
Slowly, Dixyn stepped aside to allow him the space to enter. As soon as he passed her, she noticed it: a black briefcase. If it wasn’t for his ever-present New York Yankees snap-back hat, blue Levi’s, and construction Timberland boots, B-Dub might have been mistaken for a black businessman in corporate America.
Dixyn closed the door and followed B-Dub obediently. She couldn’t take her eyes off the suitcase. Her mind began to wander. What was this impromptu visit all about? And exactly what did that briefcase contain? B-Dub strolled confidently to the living room as if he knew exactly where he was going, then headed straight for the bar in the corner. He quickly scanned the shelves, shaking his head in disgust. “What, no Henny?”
His choice of drink made Dixyn wonder if B-Dub’s similarities to Bryce went deeper than a physical level. Was he just acting like Bryce? Was he just trying to be like him?
“Nope. All gone,” Dixyn confirmed. “Bryce finished the last of it the night he got locked up.” The fact that B-Dub wanted to consume alcohol at this time in the morning spoke volumes to her. B-Dub was either stressed out or he had a pretty bad drinking problem.
“Figures,” he replied, turning to face Dixyn. “Yo, sit down, we gotta talk.” B-Dub walked casually across the room, taking stocking of everything, from the hardwood floors and remaining items of expensive furniture to Dixyn herself.
She eyed B-Dub carefully as he approached, studying his body language. He was being even more cocky and arrogant than he had the night before. She didn’t know what this was all about, but she was sure she’d find out.
Complying with his request, Dixyn took a seat on the end of the couch and crossed her legs like a lady. Her form-fitting skirt revealed her well-toned thighs and calves. B-Dub walked over to her and gently placed the briefcase on the floor between them before sitting down. He patted the briefcase as if it were a family pet.
“Listen,” he began. “I need you to take this briefcase somewhere for me, fam.”
“What’s in it?”
“Nuttin’,” he told her. “What’s inside is none of ya concern. It’s nuttin’ illegal. Nobody’s gonna get hurt. It’s easy money, fam.”
“Then you go!” she barked, staring at B-Dub, waiting for some sort of explanation. “I’m not tryin’ to be in nobody’s jail for some shit I know nothing about. Understand?”
“Oh, you gon’ do me like that, fam?”
“Yup,” Dixyn said.
“I need you to go. The girl who normally goes can’t make it tonight. I know this is short notice, but you do kinda owe me a favor.”
“Owe you?”
“Yeah, owe me. So you goin’. Like it or not.”
“Really?” Dixyn shot back.
B-Dub immediately pulled out his iPhone and tapped the screen a few times. Then he handed it over Dixyn. “Go ’head, take a look at that, fam,” he instructed her.
Dixyn swiped her finger across the touch screen and began scrolling through photos. Suddenly her eyes filled with tears and she covered her mouth in shock. “Why?” she whispered. “Why did you photograph me dancing? Who does this type of shit? You sick bastard. What are you tryin’ to do to me?” She began erasing the photographs of her scantily clad body in compromising positions from his phone one by one.
B-Dub didn’t even move a muscle—a fact that wasn’t lost on Dixyn. In fact, his lack of movement disturbed her.
“I don’t know what you think you’re doin’,” he said. “You can erase them off my phone, but I have them backed up elsewhere. How dumb do you think I am?”
Out of frustration, Dixyn threw the phone on the couch and glared at him.
With a sinister smirk on his face, B-Dub continued, “So like I was sayin’ before I was so rudely interrupted . . . I NEED YOU TO DELIVER THIS BRIEFCASE FOR ME. You’re gonna drive your car south to the Quantico marine base . . .”
Dixyn listened intently as B-Dub outlined the details of the trip. He told her exactly what she was to do and who she was to see. He told her this was “easy money” so many times that Dixyn began to believe him. If B-Dub had anything else in mind aside from having her deliver the briefcase, he did not divulge it.
“You the only person I can trust. We fam, baby,” B-Dub explained.
Whenever he referred to her as fam, it made Dixyn cringe. It was unsettling the way he emphasized the word, giving it an entirely new meaning.
“You ain’t no family of mine!” Dixyn fired back. “Family don’t do me like this.”
“Then consider me a friend, ma.”
“B-Dub, or whatever you call yourself . . . we damn sure not friends. We not even friendly.”
“Damn, Dixyn, those are such harsh words. But if I wasn’t a friend, would I do this?” he asked, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a wad of money. “Here you go.”
As bad as Dixyn needed the money, she was unmoved by B-Dub’s sudden display of generosity. “That’s nice,” she said flatly, placing the money on the coffee table. For the short period of time she had known him, Dixyn had alr
eady seen that everything about this dude had a string attached to it.
B-Dub suddenly exploded: “You ungrateful ho! Don’t be stupid. You better take that money. You was just shakin’ ya ass like a li’l slut yesterday for some bread.” The harsh tone of his voice put the fear of God in Dixyn. She didn’t want a physical confrontation with him because it was one that she probably would not win.
He made a move to reclaim his money, but Dixyn beat him to it. She snatched it up and placed it in her bra for safe keeping. When she brought her hands down to rest on her lap, B-Dub reached over and massaged her empty ring finger. She quickly drew back her hand.
“Don’t think I didn’t notice that ya rock was gone. I noticed that from the moment I walked in here. It’s a goddamn shame you had to get rid of it. But now that I’m around, you ain’t gotta go through no more hard times or bad times . . . if you play your cards right.”
Dixyn was stunned, but tried not to show it. How the hell does he know what happened to the ring? B-Dub seemed to know every little thing about her. She was beginning to think that running into him at the club had been more than just coincidence.
“My ring is upstairs!” Dixyn spat.
“Go get it. Make a liar out of me,” B-Dub proclaimed.
“You know that I don’t gotta prove nuttin’ to you.”
“You’re right, you sure don’t,” he answered. “But I know who you do gotta answer to, and that’s my dear brother Bryce. And I think it’ll break his heart when I tell him that his so-called fiancée hocked his ring at the local pawn shop.” B-Dub paused. “You know what, fam? We ain’t even gotta take it there. See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil. We’ll keep that on the low. Only between us. Just do what I say and everything will go smooth. You feel me?”
At the moment, the only thing Dixyn could feel was animosity building in her heart. She knew she was being blackmailed. But even still, she was naive enough to believe that if she made this delivery for B-Dub, this one time, she could be done with him.
* * *
Dixyn drove slowly down I-95 even though she was running late. She carefully obeyed the speed limit for two reasons: First, she didn’t want to take the chance of getting pulled over, especially when she didn’t know what was inside the briefcase she had in her car. The other reason was that the extra time afforded her the chance to gather her thoughts. She just wanted this night to be over and done with already.
Just in case she got pulled over, she had rehearsed her alibi: she was on her way to a family reunion in Richmond, Virginia. As far as Dixyn was concerned, this was her story and she was sticking to it.
Secretly, she hoped that by arriving late, the person she was showing up to meet would leave. Then there would be no transaction to make. B-Dub would see that she was a failure and never ask her to do something like this again. Suddenly, so much was going on in her life; the thoughts running through Dixyn’s mind came fast. She pictured what Bryce would say or do once he found out what she had been up to lately. Then she thought about what she was carrying and how much time it could possibly get her if she was caught. As badly as Dixyn wanted to turn around and go home, she knew she had to at least show up, if only just to say she was there.
Quantico 5 miles, the sign read.
Dixyn carefully guided the Range Rover into the parking lot of a nondescript building housing a Chinese restaurant which looked like it had once been owned by some fast food burger chain. She could hear gravel being crushed beneath the car’s tires, and a light cloud of dust trailed the SUV. Dixyn proceeded with caution, examining each car in the lot for passengers. She was anxious to make the drop and go on about her business.
B-Dub hadn’t told her who to look for; he merely told her where to go, and when she got there, someone would contact her. After driving around the parking lot aimlessly for a few minutes, she noticed a car in the rear of the lot flash its high beams at her. Dixyn drove slowly toward the vehicle. The closer she got, the more apprehensive she became. Her HID headlights illuminated the inside of the car, allowing Dixyn to see its occupant—a dark-skinned black male, clean cut and alone.
Suddenly Dixyn’s mind was infiltrated by terrible thoughts. Suppose this is the police and the package I’m carrying contains drugs? Suppose this entire thing is a setup? In a split second, she changed her mind. She decided not to stop for the stranger, even as she saw him exiting his vehicle and flag her down.
“Dixyn!” the man called out.
She mashed her foot on the brake pedal, bringing the car to an abrupt halt. Dixyn sat there dumbfounded, looking in her rearview mirror as the stranger began approaching her car. The closer he got, the clearer his physical features became. Dixyn could tell he was in the military by his upright posture, and his gait looked as if he were marching in some imaginary platoon. If that wasn’t enough, his haircut was a dead giveaway. As badly as Dixyn wanted to pull away, she forced herself to stay. She had so much riding on this. She couldn’t drive off, at least not now.
As he arrived at the car, Dixyn let down her window. “Get in,” she said, keeping a close eye on him as he passed by the front of the vehicle, looking for something that would suggest the guy worked for law enforcement, like a pair of handcuffs, a concealed weapon, or a badge. She saw none.
“Didn’t you see me flash my lights back there?” he asked politely as he slipped inside the car.
“No,” Dixyn lied, straight-faced. She eased the car into an open parking space and killed the engine and the lights so as not to attract any attention.
“Okay,” the man said brusquely, “where’s the suitcase?”
Dixyn absentmindedly replied, “What?”
“The suitcase,” the man sternly repeated. “You know, the object that B-Dub gave to you to bring to me.”
“Oh yeah!” Dixyn exclaimed. “I’m sorry, my mind was somewhere else. I’ll get it for you right now.”
Dixyn exited the vehicle and retrieved the briefcase from the cargo area. When she returned to her seat, she handed over the item in question. The stranger set the briefcase gently on his lap and fetched a small key from his pants pocket. Then he paused momentarily.
“Do you mind if I open the briefcase?” he suddenly asked.
“No. Go right ahead.” At this point, Dixyn’s curiosity was getting the best of her. She was eager to see just what she had been transporting.
As the stranger successfully unlocked the briefcase, Dixyn just sat there beside him, stealing nervous glances at it. Slowly the top began to rise, and she peeked inside and saw nothing but money, neatly stacked in denominations of hundreds, fifties, and twenties. Dixyn couldn’t believe her eyes.
Feeling her gaze upon the money, the man turned toward Dixyn and smiled. “I don’t care what they say about B-Dub, he’s all right with me.” Quickly, the man closed the suitcase and locked it.
Dixyn shifted her gaze away, pretending not to be paying attention.
The stranger continued, “Could you pull up right next to my car?”
“Yeah,” Dixyn answered, surprised.
The stranger climbed out and walked to the rear of his car. He opened his trunk, which obscured Dixyn’s view of him. She didn’t know what he was doing, but whatever it was, he was taking too long.
Suddenly the man reappeared carrying a large box with a lock on top. Dixyn watched the man struggle as he brought it over to her.
“Where you goin’ with that?” she asked.
“B-Dub didn’t tell you that you were also supposed to pick something up?”
“No, he didn’t.”
“Well, that’s between you and him. After I put this box in the back of your car, I could care less what you do with it. I fulfilled my end of the deal, okay?”
Dixyn didn’t like the idea of being kept in the blind about delivering a return shipment to B-Dub. But like everything else on this job, she had little say in the matter. She opened the lift gate and watched as the stranger strained to lift the box inside. She felt the Range Rover l
urch once the man finally heaved it in. What the hell is inside that box? she wondered. Yet she didn’t want to give this too much thought because it only made her more paranoid.
“All right. You’re good to go,” the stranger said. “Drive safe. And I’ll let B-Dub know you’re on your way. Oh, and one more thing: one of your taillights is out. Looks like a bulb has blown. You might wanna get that taken care of ASAP.”
“Okay. Thanks,” Dixyn said flatly as she pulled out, leaving a cloud of dust in her wake.
* * *
Dixyn hit the highway, taking the same route back. Once again she drove cautiously, maintaining the speed limit. She watched enviously as cars sped past her but refused to throw caution to the wind. A few miles down the road, Dixyn felt vindicated when she saw a swirl of blue and red lights and a car on the shoulder that had been pulled over by the Virginia state troopers in an apparent speed trap.
“Better them than me,” Dixyn mused aloud as she drove by.
The closer Dixyn got to her exit, the more she felt at ease. Now all she thought about was collecting her payment from B-Dub and getting that box out of her car. Then Dixyn glanced in her rearview mirror and noticed a car tailing her a little too closely. She moved from the far right lane to the center lane, hoping the driver just wanted to pass. To her dismay, the car followed her into the center lane. Dixyn was beginning to worry once again. Suddenly her car was doused with bright red and blue flashing lights. Dixyn’s heart sank to her stomach.
“Shit!” Dixyn cried out. “Why you pullin’ me over? I wasn’t even speeding.”
With all the fear that was pinned up inside her body, Dixyn was overcome by the urge to floor it. But for her, escape wasn’t a viable option. She knew one or two things would happen: either she would be caught by the police in a wild high-speed chase or she’d die a horrific death of blood and twisted metal. Neither option was appealing to her. Not getting herself arrested was a more pressing priority.
Dixyn pulled over to the side of the highway in a dark, desolate spot. The heavily tinted unmarked police car followed her closely. As she put her car in park and turned off the ignition, Dixyn nervously tried to get a glimpse of the officer in her rearview mirror. Unfortunately, she was blinded by the floodlight the officer had placed on her vehicle. So Dixyn simply sat back and waited for the officer to approach.
Caught Up Page 4