by Carl Weber
“I’on know nothin’ ’bout that,” Dos said, quickly putting an end to the conversation, moving past him and heading for the bar where Jasmine was.
When Jasmine spotted Dos coming through the crowd of people, her insides began to bubble. She was filled with nervous energy. She turned her head, making eye contact with Zo. He was posted in the cut at the end of the bar with a hat pulled low over his face. He followed her eyes in Dos’s direction.
Dos approached the bar, squeezing between two female waitresses waiting for their orders. He admired their bodies, looking them up and down and smiling. They smiled back, appreciating the fine-looking stranger in their midst.
“Hey, daddy, you need some help?” one of them flirted with him.
“I’m good. Maybe another time, another place, though,” he said and smirked. “Jasmine!” he yelled over the music trying to get her attention.
She glanced over her shoulder at him from the other end of the bar. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she watched Zo get up from his seat and began to circle around to where Dos was standing.
Dos called out to Jasmine again, this time waving her to him. “I don’t have all night, c’mon,” he shouted. She hesitated to move. Dos noticed her weird behavior. Something was off about her. He could tell by the look on her face. Her eyes looked away from him, and when he followed them, he saw what she was looking at.
Suddenly, gunfire erupted inside the club. Panic ensued within seconds, people scrambling in every direction. Dos ducked to the floor and pulled out his gun as the gunshots continued to fly his way. Zo was relentlessly firing. Dos searched through the crowd until he spotted Zo’s exact position. He popped up from the floor and started returning fire.
It was raining bullets inside the club, both men shooting at each other through the crowd of running people. Zo emptied his clip, then slipped out the back of the club in the chaos of all the screaming, panicked people.
Quickly, Dos slipped out the front of the club, hitting the front door with everyone else, and headed straight for his car. When he got outside, police were coming down the streets. He jumped into his Benz and sped away.
Dos’s phone rang as he was driving. He was already planning how he was going to move on Zo when he saw Rio’s name come across the scene. That meant it could only be one person since Rio was dead.
“Bitch-ass nigga. You a dead man,” Dos barked in the phone. His voice was filled with emotion and adrenaline.
“Fuck you. Suck my dick. You living on borrowed time,” Zo laughed and banged on him.
Dos gritted his teeth as the phone call ended. “I’ma kill that nigga!” he shouted, banging his fist on the steering wheel. Now Jasmine’s face appeared in his mind. He noticed how she was acting funny back at the club and also how she hadn’t called to check on him. “Foul-ass bitch. I’ma kill her too,” he seethed. His phone began ringing again. This time it was Lauryn. He ignored the call, but she called right back, then again, and again. Finally, he answered. “What’s up? What you want?” his adrenaline mixing with anger as he spoke.
“What’s up, son? It’s good to hear your voice.”
Dos’s heart skipped a beat hearing his father’s voice on the phone. “Hey . . . Hey, Pops.” His voice was unsteady from shock and surprise. “When you wake up?” he asked.
“Not ‘how you feeling’ or ‘good to hear your voice’?” Ricardo questioned with a hoarse laugh.
“You know what I meant, Pops,” Dos calmed his nervousness. “Something crazy just happened. I ain’t thinking straight right now.”
“Come up to the hospital in the morning and you can tell me all about it. For now, I’m gonna get some more rest. I just wanted to hear your voice,” Ricardo said.
“You do that,” Dos said. “Oh, and Pops?”
“What?” Ricardo replied.
“I love you. It’s good to have you back from the dead.”
“It’s good to be back,” Ricardo said, then hung up.
Dos let the phone linger next to his ear for a second, then let it fall to the seat.
* * *
Dos sat in his car in front of Jasmine’s building with his gun on his lap. He had been downstairs for over an hour, contemplating killing her. Every time he convinced himself to get out of the car and do it, his son’s face would flash before his eyes. He was so conflicted. He had never been so sure—and unsure—of anything before in his life. Jasmine’s betrayal should be dealt with one way—death. She had earned it, but had he pushed her to that point? He questioned himself. And if he was being truthful with himself, the answer would be yes. He knew it. She had never done anything but tried to love him. He, in return, gave her his ass to kiss. He had turned a good girl bad, and it had almost cost him his life. But should it cost her hers was the question. Jasmine deserved to die. But his son, Tre, didn’t deserve to grow up without a mother like he had. When it boiled down to it, Dos loved his son more than he hated his baby’s mother.
He took the clip out of the gun and tossed it on the passenger seat. He didn’t trust himself. Then he got out of the car and walked inside Jasmine’s building. He put his key in the front door of her apartment and walked in.
Jasmine was sitting in the living room, holding their son in her arms. It was like she was waiting for him. Her heart felt like it leaped into her throat when Dos walked into the house. He had a crazed look in his eyes. Tre called out for his da-da, as soon as he spotted Dos, but he ignored him. Tears began falling from Jasmine’s eyes, noticing the black latex gloves on his hands. She knew what he was capable of. She wasn’t naïve to the type of man he was.
Dos walked over and sat down next to her. He knew being so close to her made her uncomfortable. He took his son out of her arms and sat him on his lap and began playing with him. Never once did he make eye contact with Jasmine. Finally, he spoke, but when he did, his voice was eerily calm. “I know what you did.”
Jasmine started to cry harder. “I’m sorry, Dos.”
“No, you’re not,” he replied.
“I swear,” Jasmine pleaded. “He threatened to kill me and Tre, if—”
Dos stopped the words from coming out of her mouth by wrapping his hand around her throat. “Don’t use my son as an excuse, bitch,” he gritted his teeth as he squeezed. “I want you to take Tre and move back to New York. You got forty-eight hours to leave. You understand me? If I ever see your fucking face again, I’m gonna kill you. I promise. When I wanna see my son, I’ll send for him.” Finally, Dos released his grip on her neck. Jasmine gasped for air. Dos kissed his son on the cheek, then sat him next to her. He rose to his feet and tossed a stack of hundreds on the coffee table, then looked back at her. She had tears racing down her face as she sat deathly still. “When I come through here in two days, you better be gone,” he said, then walked out of the house, not bothering to close the door behind him.
* * *
Lauryn sat by the window in the hospital, watching her husband sleep. She felt like her world was falling apart in front of her eyes. It made her sadder than it did angry; still, tears filled her eyes as she thought about it. She had been under Ricardo’s thumb long enough. She needed out. She felt like his hostage. He monitored her every waking moment. Her bodyguards were not there for protection but more to keep her captive. They reported everything about her back to Ricardo. There were cameras all throughout her home. Ricardo said they were for their safety, but she knew he used them to keep an eye on her when he wasn’t around. He had only trusted her to be alone with Dos and before that, East. That was how she and Dos eventually became intimate. Spending time together, they realized they shared a similar hatred for Ricardo. They hatched a plan that benefitted both of them, but now, it was falling apart quickly. Ricardo would be coming home any day now, which meant, back to her dreaded routine life. She enjoyed him being in the hospital, honestly. It gave her a bit of freedom. She sent the guards away on some days and enjoyed just being a normal person. That was surely over now. Tears danced down her fa
ce as she recalled how she had gotten to this place in her life.
The fifty-foot, state-of-the-art yacht smoothly cruised the waters of the Florida Keys, somewhere between the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of Mexico. Al Biggs had a glass of cognac in one hand and a cigar in the other as he relaxed in a chair on the deck, enjoying the view. This was his second yacht, and he spared no expense this time around. It was lavishly decorated with gold faucets and sinks, mink rugs, and high-end entertainment.
“What do you think? Beautiful, ain’t it?” he asked the man sitting across from him.
“Yes, it is,” Ricardo said. He wasn’t talking about the boat or the water, however. His eyes were locked on Old Man Al’s twenty-year-old daughter, as she navigated the boat through the sea. She was gorgeous. More beautiful than any woman Ricardo had seen before. Her skin looked like it had been kissed by the sun, and her eyes looked like he could see heaven in them.
“How ’bout I let you use my boat anytime you want until I’m able to pay you back the money I owe you?” Al said.
Ricardo leaned back in his chair and looked out at the water. “I’m not really into boats, Al.”
“This is not any ol’ boat,” Al explained. “I paid top dollar for this yacht. This is top-shelf shit you cruising on,” he bragged and laughed.
“That’s the thing. I’m trying to get paid in dollars too. I loaned you cash. I want cash in return,” Ricardo commanded. “I’ve been more patient with you than most, out of respect, but I can’t guarantee you how much longer that’s gonna last.”
“I know. I know. I appreciate you. I just need a little more time, Rico.” By calling Ricardo by his childhood nickname, Al was banking on the history between the two of them. Before Ricardo was a street dude on the come up with dreams of being a boss, he was a boxer, and before that, he was a local kid with a dream of becoming world champ one day. That’s where Al Biggs knew him from. Al was the biggest drug dealer in Liberty City at that time. He used to look out for Ricardo, big time. Keeping money in his pocket, giving him cars to drive, even getting him his first piece of pussy. Anything to keep him out of trouble, out of the streets and on the right path. When his boxing career didn’t turn out like everyone thought, he turned to Al then too. And like always, Old Man Al took care of him. He put Ricardo in the game, and before he knew it, he was living larger than he ever had as a boxer. After his first taste of street money, there was no turning back for Ricardo. He dove into the streets headfirst. Now he had outgrown his teacher, like a fish that outgrew the pond.
“Just hold on to my boat until I can pay you back,” Al pleaded.
“I told you, this ain’t my thing. I wouldn’t know the first thing to do with it,” Ricardo said.
“C’mon, Rico, it gotta be something we can work out.”
Ricardo grew quiet; then his eyes turned toward Al’s daughter Lauryn again. He wanted her more than he wanted the money he was owed. “I think I got a way we can clear your tab,” Ricardo smiled.
“What’s that?” Old Man Al asked.
“What if you gave me you daughter’s hand in marriage?” Ricardo sat back in his seat and waited for an answer.
“Lauryn?” Al laughed, thinking Ricardo had to be joking. But when he found himself the only one laughing, he became serious as well. “My daughter is only twenty. She’s a little girl,” he said angrily.
“I don’t mean you no disrespect, but she ain’t no little girl. She all woman,” Ricardo explained.
“In looks only but not in the mind. Not for a man like you,” Al replied.
“C’mon, Al, it’s not like I’m trying to make her part of my harem or anything. I’m offering marriage, my last name. A lifetime commitment. You’ve raised her and gave her nothing but the best. I can continue to do that. You know me and what I’m about. You know she will be well taken care of. The cartel has cut you off. You’re drowning in gambling debts. How long you think your lifestyle gonna last?” he questioned, giving the old man something to think about.
As they pulled the boat back into the harbor, Ricardo approached Lauryn and winked at her. She smiled, and he returned the gesture. “How you doing? I’m Ricardo,” he introduced himself.
“I know who you are,” she smiled. “I’m Lauryn.”
“I already know,” he told her. “You’re a very beautiful woman,” he complimented, causing her to blush. She was flattered by the attention. She was raised by a hustler, and she knew a boss when she saw one. Ricardo was definitely that. “Your future bright, baby. From now on, you gonna be mine.”
Lauryn giggled. She thought he was joking, but he wasn’t.
“I’m serious,” Ricardo explained to her. “Do you love your father?” he smoothly asked.
“Of course.”
“So, you would do anything for him, right?” Ricardo questioned.
“Yes,” she replied once again.
“Your father owes me a lot of money, baby girl. A whole lotta money. He can’t afford to pay. In our line of business, that’s not good for business. I’ve killed men for far less,” he said with such seriousness that Lauryn felt it in her chest. “I respect your father to the upmost. So, we worked out another way for him to pay off his debt. Ain’t that right, Al?”
“Daddy?” Lauryn called out to him, confused.
“I don’t want to force you. I’m not into that. I’m not trying to pimp you or nothing like that. I want you to be my wife,” Ricardo declared. “But I must tell you that if you deny my request and your father can’t pay me what he owes, I’m going to kill him.”
Tears were now building in the wells of Lauryn’s eyes. She knew about her father’s gambling problem. She watched as all their possessions slowly disappeared over the years. “Daddy?” she cried out to him again, her eyes pleading with fear.
Al was so ashamed he couldn’t even look his daughter in the eye. “Baby, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” The strings of his heart were being pulled from every which way. He saw the fright and confusion in Lauryn’s eyes. But what crushed him even more was he knew she would do anything to spare him. Love sacrifices.
“I’m gonna treat you like a queen. You won’t want for nothing,” Ricardo told her. “But I need an answer . . . right now. Time is money, and your father can’t afford to waste another second of mine,” he said, pulling the gun from his waist, showing her how serious he was about killing her father.
“OK,” she said. It was almost as if the word slipped out involuntarily. There was no thought, no apprehension. It was a gun and her father’s life or a marriage. The choice was easy.
“Thank you,” Al sighed in relief.
“You’re the real winner in the family,” Ricardo said sarcastically to Lauryn. “You gained a husband and didn’t lose ya father. Sound like good math to me,” he shrugged.
Lauryn was silent, and her body was stiff. The back of her throat became dry, and she tried her hardest to swallow the knot that formed in it. She couldn’t believe or understand why this was happening to her. Why this man just came and changed the whole course of her life and destroyed her father’s existence for what she knew it to be. Lauryn looked toward her dad and decided against calling out for him again. He was defeated, and she felt it. She could feel his weakness and failure oozing from his pores. She let out a tear and decided she will now be his strength.
A few hours later, Al relaxed on the deck of the yacht enjoying the sunset. He finished the drink in his glass and placed it down in front of him. He picked up the gun at his side as tears began to cloud his vision. He thought by handing over his daughter, he had saved his own life. But the shame he felt was eating him alive and made him not want to go on living. His gambling addiction had made him a poor excuse for a man and an even worse father. Lauryn was truly better off without him. His only joy was knowing she would be taken care of in a way he could no longer provide for her. After all, he had groomed Ricardo himself.
Suddenly, the sound of a single gunshot pierced the air, disturb
ing the calm and peacefulness, causing a flock of seagulls to fly away. The chirping of birds overhead was immediately followed by the thud of the gun falling from Al’s dead hand.
Lauryn wiped the tears running down her cheeks as she thought about her father. He would have moved heaven and earth for her. All these years later, the pain still remained. Ricardo kept his word. She wanted for nothing. He had given her the best that life had to offer. But he treated her like a possession and not his wife. She felt like a prisoner. She was convinced Ricardo would never see her as anything more than a payoff for a debt. She was his beautiful trophy. She was there to be seen and not heard. Lauryn wasn’t an evil woman; she just wanted out and knew he would never let her be free. Watching him sleep, the thought of killing him crossed her mind. She walked over to the bed and stood over him. It would be so easy to put a pillow over his face and rid herself of him. She reached for the pillow at the foot of the bed. At first her hands trembled, but soon they steadied as she contemplated murder. Then she heard the door to the room open and looked up to see the night nurse entering. She placed the pillow down on the bed and smiled, stepping aside to allow the woman to check on Ricardo.
Chapter Thirteen
The mild summer air flowed with ease through East’s bedroom window. He sat rolling up some weed when his phone rang. He looked at the screen. It was a number he hadn’t seen in a long time. He frowned his brow, wondering why the person was calling him. He started not to answer, but his curiosity got the better of him. “Hello,” he said and was immediately bombarded with tearful cries and words. “Calm down. What? You’re where?” East said. Jasmine was so distraught on the other end of the phone he could barely understand her. “Slow down. Slow down. You said what now?”
Jasmine proceeded to tell him everything that happened the other night at the club between Dos and Zo. East had already heard about it on the streets, but he played dumb, allowing her to fill in all the blanks for him. Jasmine was more than happy to. She was pissed about being exiled to New York. Honestly, East thought she was lucky that was all she got, but he never mentioned it. He just listened, and when she was finished, he wished her the best and hung up. He sat back on his couch and lit up some weed as he digested all that Jasmine had told him. He had an idea. He called Screw and Ques and told them to meet him in front of the projects in an hour.