His Last Name

by Daaimah S. Poole

  “Jabril, we are not together! Leave me alone.” I yanked away from him. Whatever he was on must have made him think he could take Deuce. He swung on Deuce and Deuce punched him straight in the middle of his face. Jabril’s entire body slammed into a table. I saw everyone looking and the camera caught everything. I kneeled down and saw Jabril’s face was beginning to swell and his nose was shooting blood.

  “Let’s go, Shanice.” Deuce shouted at me. I was torn. For two seconds I thought about staying with Jabril and making sure he was okay, but he had never chosen me. I was embarrassed and I knew the cops were on the way. I gathered my family and followed my man out of the club.

  CHAPTER 70

  Monique

  “Monique, get to Philly,” Mom Laura cried.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Faheem was just walking to the store. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time. And he’s been shot.”

  “Mom Laura, what? Where is CeCe?”

  “She’s at the hospital. He was shot four times in the leg and chest and right now it is not looking good. They’re taking him into surgery.”

  “We are on our way up there.”

  I couldn’t believe this was happening. Faheem was a good boy in college and now he was fighting for his life. I called Kadir and Abigail and had to ask her to speak to my son. She seemed annoyed. She had no idea that if she said anything slightly out of the way that I was going to smack her when I saw her.

  “What, Mom?”

  “Kadir, get dressed, we have to get to Philly.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Faheem was shot. He is in surgery and we need to be there when he gets out.”

  “What, Ma? No!” He broke down and began crying. I heard Abigail trying to console him.

  “I’ll be there shortly.” I had been staying at Dele’s house until I found a place of my own. He wanted to come with me for support, but I knew that wasn’t a good idea. I threw enough clothes to last a week in my bag and drove to pick up my son. Faheem had to hang on. I had to get to Philly to be with Carl, CeCe, and Mom Laura. I thought about the worst and began crying, but I was hoping for the best.

  CHAPTER 71

  Zakiya

  How many tears can you cry before you run out? My life was falling apart. I had no control over it. When things go wrong, I usually consult my sister, but the last few days it has been God only. I looked at Jabrilah sleeping and became instantly upset. She deserved to have a family. She loved her daddy and needed to be with him. I wanted my daughter to have her father, but I wanted to be happy, too. I didn’t know how I was going to be able to make both happen.

  I went to sleep in prayer and prayed for my family, and when I awoke Jabril was on the sofa sleeping. I saw his body form under the covers. I was thankful he was home. We were going to make it.

  I made him breakfast and took it to him. And then he lifted the covers off his head.

  “What’s wrong with your face and eye?”

  “Some guy tried to rob me last night.”

  “Did you call the cops?”

  “No, because I didn’t want it to make the news.”

  I believed him. I really believed him until I saw a half dozen screen shots that my sister had sent me of Jabril fighting in a club. Jabril had driven all the way to Atlanta last night to fight over a video hoe?

  I snatched the covers completely off of him. “Jabril, you have lost your damn mind. You were fighting over your mistress last night. How is that supposed to make me feel?”

  “Zakiya, I don’t want to hear your mouth. You weren’t there, you don’t know what happened.”

  “The evidence is in front of me. I know you have a black eye.”

  “Look I’m not talking about this anymore. Yeah, I had a little scuffle last night, but when I left the club this guy robbed me and knocked me out. He took my wallet.”

  “The same wallet that’s sitting by your keys, you liar?” I asked, pointing to his wallet on the table. “What am I, a fool? Do you think I’m going to stay here? You weren’t in a fight with anybody else. Look around. You are self-destructing. I’ll leave before I see you destroy yourself.”

  “Believe what you want. If you leave, Zakiya, stay gone. Matter of fact, you don’t have to leave. I’ll leave.” He jumped off the sofa, grabbed his coat, and walked toward the door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Yes, it does matter. Fuck it, you know what? It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m done. Go to your dirty stripper whore.”

  “She’s not a stripper.”

  “So now you are defending that dirty, trashy bitch?” I picked up his plate of food and threw it at him. He ducked and yanked the door open and slammed it closed. After he left I cried. I got on my knees and prayed. I didn’t know what else I could do. I asked God for strength and to protect my family and to turn my Jabril back to the man I used to know. I wanted the man who begged to be with me, the one who wanted to be my husband and wanted me to have his children.

  CHAPTER 72

  Tiffany

  I was packing my bags for the trip I had booked for us when I heard a noise coming from downstairs. Damien was here sooner than expected. Our flight left Newark International at five, but we wanted to beat the turnpike traffic. We wanted to give ourselves time to get through security and grab lunch before our flight.

  “You’re here early.”

  He came up the steps out of breath holding two suitcases with money falling and hanging out of them.

  “Where did you get all that money? What the hell is going on, Damien?”

  “We will talk about it later, but I need you to hide it.”

  “For what?” I stood still for a moment, then he started pulling out guns from under the mattress. Then he gathered more money from the back of the closet and handed it to me and told me to hide it.

  “Why?”

  “Just do what I tell you to do. Put it in the bathroom. Put it somewhere and fast. We have to go.”

  I followed behind him, when we were both stopped in our tracks by the sound of multiple cars pulling into our driveway. Then a loud banging noise came after that. I looked out the window and there were several police cars outside.

  “What’s going on?”

  “My investment and business opportunities are here.”

  A voice on a bullhorn said, “Damien Holcomb, come out with your hands up.”

  “What the hell is going on, Damien? Tell me. Why are the police at the door?”

  “Because I robbed some banks.”

  “Banks?” I screamed and covered my mouth.

  “We have to hide this money.”

  I didn’t want my prints to be on the money and I didn’t want to be a part of any robbery.

  “Damien, you have to turn yourself in. This is insane.”

  I began walking down the steps. He cocked his gun and said, “I’m not going to jail.”

  “You can’t shoot at the police. What are you thinking?”

  “Come here.” He closed the door and the shades.

  “They are not going to go away. Let me go to the door and talk to them.”

  “No, come here,” he shouted. At that very moment I didn’t know if I was a hostage or a conspirator.

  “Oh, my God! This is going to be on the news and my mom will find out.” She told me not to go back to him. I should have listened to her. Why didn’t I listen? I thought.

  “Damien, what are you planning to do?”

  “We will just wait for them to come in.”

  “Then they will come in shooting.”

  “We don’t have a choice. You are here with me, until death do us part. Right?”

  “Huh?”

  “This is your fault anyway. You were the reason I started robbing banks in the first place. I was sitting back in the projects after having millions. Who can ever say they touched a million dollars? People work they whole life and may never accumulate that type of wealth. I ha
d fifty of them and they are all gone. I saw cats from my old neighborhood wondering why I was back on the block. They said, ‘Dame, I know you got a stash somewhere. It is not possible to spend that kind of money.’ They don’t know, do they? How much goes to taxes, what’s eaten up by agents and lawyer’s fees. Then you treat yourself to a few things and the rest goes to a greedy-ass wife that you can never say no to.”

  “Don’t you try to blame this on me. It is not my fault. I didn’t put a gun in your hand. I didn’t say go rob banks.”

  “Be quiet. You didn’t complain when I called you and told you I was rich again, did you? You came right home.” His words were interrupted by a noise coming from downstairs. It sounded like the police were in. Thank God. Damien went to check where the noise was coming from and I knew this was my opportunity to run. I had about five seconds. I ran toward the window and began trying to lift it. The window wouldn’t open, three men pointed their guns toward me. I raised my hands and silently screamed help to them. One reached out his hand and told me to jump.

  Damien was coming toward me with his gun raised and an angry look on his face. I rushed toward the window. I crashed through it. I felt the glass pecking my face and I saw the man’s arms open. I also felt my ankle being grabbed. I kicked away and felt my body land on the top of the waiting man. We were far from safe because Damien began shooting at all of us. Other cops came toward us and rounds of bullets were shot into the house. Damien continued to shoot back until there was silence. I knew the silence meant that he was shot and my life as I knew it was over.

  CHAPTER 73

  Tiffany

  A plastic cup of water and a bandage to my left arm was all the medical treatment I received. I couldn’t call my mother. She would bail me out of jail, drive me to a dirt country road, and strangle me herself. I held my head on my palms. I had a massive headache. I should have stayed in Charlotte. I should have known better. The truth is I didn’t know what he was doing, but all the evidence told another story.

  They brought me into a small dark green room with no windows and sat me down at a table with two older black detectives. One asked if I wanted coffee, the other offered me a cigarette.

  “How many banks did you and your husband rob?”

  “I didn’t rob any banks. And I didn’t know he was robbing banks.”

  “Are you sure about that? Your husband was penniless and broke and then out of nowhere he had hundreds of thousands of dollars. That didn’t seem a little strange to you?”

  “No, because he said he had investments and people owed him money and he was flipping houses. He took me to one.”

  “Where were the houses he took you to?”

  “In Brooklyn, somewhere near the high school he went to.”

  “You were about to skip town with all the money you stole.”

  “No, I said we were on our way on vacation. I didn’t rob any banks.”

  “I’m going to ask you again. You don’t know anything about the bank robberies? Have you ever gone to the bank with him?”

  “No, I haven’t.”

  “Are you sure? We have someone driving a getaway car that looks a lot like you.”

  He held a blurry gray picture of me and Damien coming out of the bank parking lot. “Is this you?”

  I took a look at the picture. It was me driving. “That’s me but—”

  “But you said you never went to the bank with him.”

  “This is when I first came back. I didn’t know what was going on. He stopped at the bank after he picked me up from the airport.” The detectives were having a hard time believing me; I knew the truth and I still thought it sounded unbelievable.

  “I didn’t rob any banks. Ask my husband. He will tell you. I’m innocent.”

  “We did ask him. He’s not talking. So right now you are looking at about ten to fifteen years for armed robbery.”

  “I didn’t do it. I need a lawyer. A phone call, something,” I shouted angrily as I became more and more frustrated.

  “If you testify against him, we can give you less time. But if you don’t, you will face the same amount of time as he does. So what’s it going to be? We will give you some time to think it over.”

  With my one phone call I called the only person who could get me out.

  “Warren, I need your help. I’ve been arrested. I’m in the Bergen County jail. You know you owe me this. And you know why you must come through for me.”

  “I’ll get you out.”

  CHAPTER 74

  Adrienne

  “Chike, how should I wear my hair? These engagement pictures are going to be on every blog and entertainment website.”

  He looked at me in the mirror, holding my hair and then bringing it back up.

  “That’s true, but I don’t want you to just have curls. I want to give you an old Hollywood glamorous look.”

  Chike’s shampoo girl came into the studio reading her phone.

  “Chike, these football players are out here losing their mind.”

  Chike and I asked at the same time, “Why are you saying that?”

  “Look at this. Some football player was robbing banks!”

  I looked down and read that it was Tiffany and her husband. I wondered if Warren knew about all of this. I stood up out of the chair and went to call Warren. His phone just rang and rang,

  Chike came over to me with his phone and said, “I think your fiancé already knows. Look who bailed little Ms. Bank Robber out of jail. Your fiancé.”

  It was on all the websites. I Googled her name and I saw it for myself: Warren walking out of the police station with her.

  “Let me see.” I couldn’t believe Warren would help her. He said she was a horrible spoiled gold digger, but yet he bailed her out of jail. I was furious.

  “Girl, I know you are upset. But I wouldn’t even bother your man about that bullshit. He probably is just being a good friend. You know he don’t want a felon for a woman, and you have a wedding to plan. And engagement pictures to be worried about.”

  Everything Chike was saying was accurate, but I still needed to tell Warren off. How dare he rescue this chick again? He was supposed to be in New York on business, not bailing out his ex.

  “I’ll be back.” I stormed out of the salon. Warren finally decided to answer his phone and I didn’t allow him to get a full hello out before I screamed, “Why did you bail that bitch out of jail?”

  “That Tiffany situation is nothing. I’m on my way to do a radio interview. I’ll be home in a few days.”

  * * *

  I called his phone for an hour straight and he never answered. He ignored my twenty text messages, too! I was fuming mad. A few days! Did he really think I would be here waiting to have a conversation with him? I looked through my e-mails to see his schedule. He would be doing The Today Show and The Breakfast Club tomorrow in New York City and I would be right there when he was done with his interviews.

  He said there wasn’t anything to their relationship, that she was an old flame that he felt bad for. And I was dumb enough to believe him. He thinks that I’m stupid since he’s still dealing with that bitch.

  One part of me said forget him, go shopping, but the other part was not about to marry a man who was publicly being seen with another woman. I booked an overnight flight to New York.

  My flight left at twelve a.m. Instead of sleeping my five hours, I thought about how I was going to confront him and beat her ass.

  I entered the Marker Hotel and all I could think about was if he stupid enough to have this bitch in his room. Could he be that dumb? I didn’t know who I was going to hit first, him or her. One way or the other, I would know the truth.

  I started to knock on the door, because who was I fooling; I wasn’t going to leave him. I needed his money and I wanted to marry him. More than anything, I wanted to prove more to him that I wasn’t crazy. The voices or the other side of the door belonged to a male and a female. I turned around and walked back to the elevator. Then so
mething came over me. I just had to know the truth. I pounded on the door.

  “Who is it?” a voice asked.

  “Housekeeping,” I said in my best Mexican accent.

  Tiffany opened the door naked just like I expected and I screamed, “You no good motherfucker. You bailed this bitch out of jail and now you are getting your money’s worth out of her. Warren, I’m going to kick this bitch’s ass and then you are next.”

  I dragged her by her hair through the suite and into the bedroom. More shocking than seeing her naked was seeing Edwin naked sleeping next to Warren, who was knocked out. They looked like drunken lovers who must’ve fallen asleep during the middle of an act. Even though I was seeing it with my own eyes, I still couldn’t believe it. Tears rolled down my face. I was speechless. What the hell was I supposed to do? Run, scream, or fight? I stood in place completely in shock. I still had Tiffany by her hair. I stood quiet for a moment and then I started screaming and hitting everyone—that bitch, Edwin, and Warren. Punches awoke them both.

  “How could you do this to me? You are not only fucking her, you are fucking him, too. What the hell is wrong with you? You disgusting pervert.”

  His eyes met mine. He spoke and either he couldn’t get words out or I couldn’t hear him. I didn’t move. I began to hyperventilate. He grabbed my arm. Edwin jumped up and threw on his clothes. My scream was so loud the hotel security came up to the floor and was in the room.

  “Does she have asthma?” I heard one of them ask.

  “Yes, she is having an attack.”

  I couldn’t correct him, and he ought to have been happy because I would have told the security guards what type of man he was.

  “Adrienne. Adrienne.” I heard him call my name and then I blacked out.

  * * *

  When I came to, Edwin and Tiffany were gone and I went right back into beast mode. “You wanted me to be your beard, huh? That was what the rush to get married was all about? To protect your secret? If you are with me on red carpets, no one will ask if you are gay? How could you do this to me? Are you fucking crazy? I don’t want to marry you. Now it all makes sense. That’s why your dick don’t stay hard for me, because I don’t have the right equipment. Sorry, I don’t have a dick. And all the pill-popping you do. Your Cialis. Yeah, I knew about it.”