Love's Grip

by Nika Michelle

  Shawty’s words hit me like a ton of bricks, for real. For the first time, a mouthy-ass nigga like me was at a loss for words.

  “Nah, that makes me blessed, Ma. For real,” I said after a good minute had gone by. For the first time ever, I was close to tears around a woman other than my moms. I grabbed her hand. “I love you too, Daisha. This is the first time I’ve told a woman that, other than Madison Gordon.”

  Tears fell from her eyes, and she tried to wipe them away, but I stopped her.

  “Don’t hide from me.” I wiped her tears away. “Let me see all of you. Please. I’m in love with you. I love everything about you, but I know there’s so much more for me to love. Give me that chance.”

  “Damn! What the fuck? Where the hell did you come from? I’ve prayed for you all my life, and now … now you show up.” She shook her head.

  “Tell me about it.” I pulled her into me and held her in my arms. “Didn’t I tell you not to dwell on that? Shit, I found you right when I needed you. It just so happened that you needed me too.”

  That night I held her and didn’t even try to get some ass. I needed her to know that it wasn’t just about a nut with her. She needed to know that I could feel more with her than just an orgasm. My feelings for her were deeper than that physical shit. I wanted her to feel my love for her. She didn’t need to just hear the words. They were so empty, without meaning behind them.

  *

  When I woke up at 5:00 a.m., Daisha wasn’t in bed. It didn’t take me long to figure out where she was. I slipped on a pair of basketball shorts and went outside. Just like I thought, she was on the beach. It was obvious that she found the ocean to be an escape from what was going on. Too bad we would be leaving soon.

  After walking up behind her, I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her close. She looked back at me and smiled.

  “I love the way you hold me,” she told me in a breathless voice.

  “And I love to hold you.” I kissed her neck and then buried my nose in her hair, taking in my favorite aroma. Even the crisp, fresh scent of the ocean couldn’t compare.

  She spoke over the tranquil sound of the waves hitting the shore. What she said surprised me. “You’re pissed at me for telling your mom too much, ain’t you? You didn’t say it, but I could see it in your eyes last night. I was waiting for you to bring it up, but since you didn’t …”

  “Nah, I ain’t pissed at you, Ma. At first I was a little bit upset, because I didn’t want her to know so much. I realize that you both are just worried about me, but you ain’t got a reason to be.” I kissed the top of her head.

  “I’m gonna stop bringing it up, because obviously, I’m talking to you in circles. I keep on repeating myself, but you’re so damn stubborn.” She turned and looked me in the eye. “We do have a reason to be worried about you. As a matter of fact, we have several reasons to be worried about you. I wish you’d see that.”

  I shook my head in frustration. “If I stress about that, I won’t be able to focus on what I need to do. I can’t afford to worry, Daisha. I have to be confident that I’ll come out on top, alive, and with my freedom still intact. If I don’t, I’ll fuckin’ crumble, and all the shit I’ve been fightin’ for will be for nothing. Do you want that?”

  “No,” she mumbled. “I just want you to be realistic.”

  “I am, baby.” I pulled her closer to me, and she rested her head on my chest with a sigh.

  That was the reason that I’d avoided loving a woman. My problems had become hers, and I had never wanted that for the woman I loved.

  Chapter 22

  Daisha

  When we returned to Atlanta, I found out that Rae was still in police custody. I’d found this out only because I had visited Kevia’s Facebook page. She’d posted pics of G’s funeral there.

  As I sat on the sofa now, a day after our return, I hurriedly logged off my own Facebook page so that I could get ready for my job interview. Pistol was out and about at the moment, and I assumed he was trying to find out all that he could about Diablo. On the way back to Atlanta, he’d asked me if I knew who he was.

  “Of course I know who Diablo is. He’s a living fuckin’ legend in Atlanta. There was even a movie made about him called The Forbidden Fruit,” I’d replied excitedly, filling him.

  He’d said that his mom had told him to find Diablo, because Diablo had been close to his father. According to her, Diablo would be able to back Pistol up when he went after Rae. Going after Rae meant that Pistol may also have to take on the Bankhead Mob. Especially if they found out that he’d killed G. There was no way that Pistol would be able to take them on alone. He needed help, and I was hoping he’d find Diablo, because Mike and Dank were questionable as hell.

  “I don’t know how you gon’ find him, though. He don’t lead the Cue Boys no more. I heard he’s outta the game. It might be hard to find him, since he’s so low key now. You can’t just be asking anybody about Diablo. Even if you do, I’m sure they won’t tell you, since they don’t know you,” I’d told Pistol.

  He had sighed as he looked over at me. “I’ll find him, baby girl. Don’t worry. I’m a resourceful-ass nigga.”

  That was the day before, and I knew that things took time. One thing that I was learning was patience. Things were going to fall into place when they needed to, and I had convinced myself to deal with whatever happened. Even if it went left or right, life would have to go on.

  I went into the bedroom to change into clothes for my interview, then hurried out of the condo. I got behind the wheel, backed out of the driveway, and headed to Buckhead. When I pulled into the parking lot of Beauty Land of Oz, my heartbeat quickened. My nerves were getting bad because I’d never had a job that utilized my mental skills, and so I felt uncertain. Instead, I’d always used my body and my looks to make money. Of course, I had worked at Wendy’s, but being a cashier didn’t take that much skill. I hated the fast-food industry and hoped that I would never have to go back to that.

  I walked inside the salon/spa, and the atmosphere felt positive. The sound of house music with dramatic bass drops filled the air, and the sound of blow-dryers and chatter was like a hum in the background. A short, brown-skinned chick with a long, flowing weave and slanted eyes greeted me at the front desk.

  “Welcome to Beauty Land of Oz. How can I help you?” she asked cheerfully, with a huge grin on her face.

  “My name’s Daisha, and I have an interview for the office manager position.”

  With a nod, she stood up. “I’ll let Ozzy know that you’re here.” She pointed toward the comfortable-looking sofa and ottoman in the waiting area. “You can wait there if you’d like.”

  “Okay. Thank you.”

  “My name’s Miranda,” she offered. “I love working the front desk, but I’m about to go back to school to finish my BA. It’s time to move on and focus on my career.”

  She looked like she was about my age, and it made me feel awful that I wasn’t working toward my own degree. The shit was fucking with me, but I could only blame myself. Never again would I allow a man to dictate where my future went. If I’d had any sense, I would’ve left Rae alone a long time ago. All the time I’d spent with him wasn’t even worth it. However, I had learned a lesson from being with him. I’d never settle again.

  As I took a seat in the waiting area, the front door opened, and a beautiful woman with caramel skin, bouncy shoulder-length hair, and pretty hazel eyes walked in. Her aura let me know off the top that she was a “boss chick.” That was obvious from how she held her head up high, exuding confidence. The Hermès bag she carried also proved that she was either holding it down on her own or holding a nigga down who was getting it.

  Miranda came back to the front, with a pleasant smile on her face.

  “Hey, hon. How are you today?” she asked the woman.

  “I’m good, Miranda. How’re you, boo?” They air kissed. “Ozzy told me that you’re going off to school in Virginia. I lived in Virginia for a little wh
ile.”

  “Yup. I got an older sister in Norfolk, so I’m moving in with her while I finish getting my BA from Norfolk State. I hate to leave, though. I’ll let Ozzy know that you’re here.”

  “Thanks, love.”

  “Oh, I love that bag. You’re always so damn fly,” Miranda said, complimenting her.

  “Aw, thanks, hon.”

  The woman sat down beside me in the waiting area, and my eyes scanned her outfit and her high-heeled pumps. They were obviously expensive. I could tell. She just seemed to be one of those women who had it all together. She seemed much older than me simply by how she carried herself, but she still looked young. Her body was banging too, and I wondered if all her ass was real. It was the norm to see fake asses in Atlanta, so you never could tell.

  A minute later a dude walked out from the back. He had shoulder-length dreadlocks and chestnut-brown skin. His black slacks and black-button down looked like a uniform, but they were crisp and expensive looking at the same time.

  “Ayanna, how are you? Lookin’ gorge, as always,” he said when he reached the woman sitting next to me. She stood. They hugged and then separated before he looked at me.

  “Oh yeah. You must be Daisha. I’m Ozzy,” he said.

  I stood up. “Yes, I am.”

  Ozzy turned and looked at his client. “Uh, go on to my chair, boo,” he said. “I’ll be right over.”

  “Okay, boo,” Ayanna answered, then walked off, with her hips swaying from side to side. Her confidence was enviable, and I wished I could carry myself like she did.

  “Nice to meet you, Daisha.” Ozzy shook my hand and smiled down at me.

  He was fine as hell, but obviously gay. Still, he wasn’t flamboyant with it, but he had a boisterous personality. I loved it and knew that I would enjoy working for him. Shit, I was already claiming that job.

  “Nice to meet you too …”

  “You can just call me Ozzy. We’re all family round here.”

  “I love this place, Ozzy. It is so …”

  “Lit, right?” He put his hand on his hip and laughed. “Y’all young ’uns and your slang.”

  His laughter was infectious, because I laughed too. “Yes!”

  “See that chick right there?” He pointed at Ayanna. “She was one of my first clients. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be who I am today.”

  That piqued my interest. “Wow.”

  “So, let me go get her ready, and then I’ll be back. Okay?”

  I nodded. “No problem.”

  As I sat back down, he made his way over to his chair. I loved how he was the owner but still did hair himself. It showed his passion for the craft. Just because he was the owner of the salon didn’t mean that he was too good to do what he loved. To be honest, with all the stations and the private spa rooms, he didn’t have to. They did everything from hair to nails to facials here, so I was sure he was making that gwap.

  A couple of minutes passed, and I heard Ozzy’s laugh again.

  “Girl, bye. You know damn well Diablo would kick your ass if you cut your hair! Not gon’ do it. Bitch, you tried it,” I heard him say as he walked away from his station and headed toward me.

  Did he just say the name Diablo? I knew that there was a possibility that he wasn’t referring to the same Diablo, but what were the chances that he was talking about someone else? A sneaky grin crept up on my face. I had to do everything in my power to get this damn job. If Ozzy was connected to someone who knew Diablo, I could find out some information for Pistol. Damn, it was so crazy how shit had worked out.

  Now wasn’t the time, though, to fish for information. I realized that Diablo lived the type of lifestyle in which privacy was a must. It wouldn’t be that easy to get information about him. Ayanna had to be his woman. If I asked Ozzy about him right away, he’d be suspicious about my agenda. I wasn’t trying to make him think I wanted to know about Diablo or anything. Once I got the job, I could work my magic. For the moment, I had to work that interview.

  Well, as it turned out, Ozzy hired me on the spot, though the position wasn’t quite what I’d expected.

  “Office manager is really just a fancy name for receptionist,” Ozzy told me with a chuckle. “You won’t just be answering phones, though. You will be responsible for scheduling appointments, keeping up with inventory, etcetera. Miranda will train you for two weeks, so don’t worry. You’ll get everything down pat. I can tell.”

  I was glad that he had confidence in me, because lately I’d lost confidence in myself. Being surrounded by successful, ambitious people would be good for me. It would motivate me to want more, and eventually, I’d be able to go back to school like Miranda.

  I couldn’t wait to let Pistol know that I had a job, as well as a connection to Diablo. It was just a matter of time before I figured out a way to get them face-to-face. I left Beauty Land of Oz, and when I was back in my car, I was finally able to let it out. “Yes, yes, yes!” I did a little happy shimmy before putting on my seat belt.

  The thought of Rae crossed my mind a second later, and I knew that the police might let him go soon. There was really no way they could hold him with no real evidence. The charges would be hard to prove in court with no physical evidence, no witnesses, and no murder weapon. They might think they had established a motive, but from what I knew from watching the ID channel, that wasn’t enough to convict him.

  Then I thought about the fact that black men were wrongfully convicted all the time simply due to their race. So it was also possible that they would hold him, and then Pistol and I would be able to go on with our lives without worrying about him or the Bankhead Mob. Nonetheless, we had to be prepared for anything. The fact that Pistol was running from federal charges was even more threatening to our love than a showdown with one of Atlanta’s fiercest crews.

  Well, at least I had a job, and my pay started at twelve dollars an hour. It wasn’t much, but it would do. Soon I’d be able to move into some cheap-ass apartment somewhere. Even with my blossoming relationship with Pistol, I wanted my own place.

  Just as I pulled off into the thick rush-hour traffic, my phone rang. When I looked down, I saw that it was Kevia’s number on the screen. I immediately had a bad taste in my mouth. What the fuck did she want now?

  “Hello,” I answered, hoping she’d hear the animosity in my voice.

  “Hey, Daisha. What you doin’?” she asked, as if everything was good with us.

  “Nothing,” I said simply.

  “Look. I really need to talk to you face-to-face. There’s … a lot goin’ on, and I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Kevia. To be honest, I forgive you and all, but I don’t think we can save our friendship. Instead of thinkin’ about me, you thought about your cousin. At this point, you’re still helping him, after he supposedly slapped you in the face. I don’t think hangin’ out with you is a good idea, being that your cousin wants to kill me. I’m sorry, but it’s best if we just—”

  “Really? You’re breakin’ up our friendship over Rae? Wow. That’s fucked up.”

  “No, I ain’t breakin’ up our friendship over Rae,” I retorted. “It’s your fault. I can’t trust that when he gets out, if he does, that you won’t sell me out to him again. As far as I know, you’ll help that nigga kill me. Rae’s like your best friend, and I know that. The fact that you knew that he was cheating on me the whole time and that you didn’t tell me says a lot about what our friendship really meant to you.”

  “Bitch, I tried to tell you ’bout that nigga, but you’d always take him back. I was tired of bein’ in the middle of y’all shit!”

  “You know what, Kevia? You don’t have to worry about it anymore. I shouldn’t have been with him in the first place, and if you were any friend, you would’ve warned me about his psycho ass. I’m done talkin’ to you, bitch. Good-bye, and don’t call me no more.”

  “You ain’t no good friend, anyway,” Kevia snapped. “I can’t help you’re
dumb as hell when it comes to a man. Don’t blame me for wastin’ your life with my cousin. That’s on you. I don’t tell a bitch shit ’bout a man. It’s up to you to find out on your own. Even if I had told you about him, I’m sure you would’ve still fucked him and fallen all deep in love, like you always do. You be stuck on stupid for a piece of dick, so it’s whatever, bitch. Fuck you. Good luck out there alone. I hope you can survive without me and my family protectin’ your no-common-sense-havin’ ass. You’ll never make it in these streets. Watch your back, bitch! You never know when somebody’ll run up on you.”

  She hung up, and I just sat there at a red light, not believing the things that bitch had just said to me. So, that was what she’d thought of me all that time? And when had she ever protected me? She hadn’t tried to protect me from her fucked-up-ass cousin. It was good that I had finally realized that slut-bucket, dick-sucking ho was not really my damn friend.

  A car horn blared behind me.

  Oh shit. I hadn’t even realized the light had turned green. Had that ho just threatened me, talking about how I had better watch my back? She had had the nerve to say that I didn’t have common sense. Wow. She just didn’t know that what I lacked, Pistol made up for. I wasn’t a green-ass bitch, though, so she was wrong about that. I had plenty of common sense. Unlike her, I’d always been on my own. That heifer had always had her family to fall back on.

  “Just wait till I get my hands on that bitch,” I said out loud.

  She didn’t know that I’d committed a murder. That bitch also didn’t know that I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.

  Instead of going straight to Pistol’s condo, I rode out to the hood, because I had a taste for some wings from one of my favorite spots. J.R. Crickets had the best hot wings, and my taste buds were dancing from the thought of that sauce hitting my tongue. The fries were the bomb. I figured it would be cool, since Rae wasn’t around and so I didn’t have to worry about him. Besides, I planned to be in and out fast, anyway.