Kelly pulled over so that she could catch her brother’s call. She had missed his first attempt, but she knew that he would call straight back. And she was right: Her phone buzzed again and this time she was ready.
“You have a collect call from (Kevin) an inmate of Rikers Island Correctional Facility.”
Kelly knew the greeting by heart so she bypassed the rest of the recorded message by pressing 3.
“Whas good, sis?” Kevin asked. He was so glad that she had picked up this time. It was so disappointing to Kevin when he couldn’t get his sister on the phone.
“I’m good, Kev,” Kelly said, smiling.
“What’s going on in the streets?” Kevin asked. He asked this question every time he called her. She wasn’t only Buddah’s eyes and ears on the streets; she was his eyes and ears also.
Kelly knew that Kevin depended on her to keep him in the know, but she also knew that his calls were most likely being recorded, so most of what she told him was in code.
“Buddah’s seeing ducks,” she told him.
“Word,” Kevin replied.
“Yeah, I saw one too, today, at least I think I did,” Kelly said.
“Ain’t no time to be thinkin’, sis. You need to be knowin’. These fucking devils ain’t playin’ wit’ you, so don’t be playin’ wit’ ‘em,” Kevin told her. “You see they got my ass caged up like a fuckin’ bird.”
“I feel you, but I’m on my game, Kev. I don’t want you worrying about me. I got this out here. You need to be concentrating on bringing ya’ ass home and gettin’ ya’ shit back on point. So stay yo ass out of trouble!” Kelly told him.
“Oh, I’m ready for that shit. And they ain’t got no choice. They gotsta let a nigga out this muthafucka when my day come, you feel what I’m sayin’,” Kevin told his sister.
Kevin had been locked up for four of the five years he had been sentenced to and had been on his best behavior the whole time. He was aching to get back on the streets to pick up where he left off.
“Oh, no doubt, I feel you baby bru.”
“Yo, I just got finished reading the whole entire Webster’s Dictionary,” Kevin said, proudly.
“Get the fuck out, yo, that shit is crazy, Kev.”
“Yeah, I know right. What the fuck else a nigga got to do in here? I be bussin’ these niggas asses in Scrabble, so that shit is gon’ help my game, you feel me?”
“No doubt, I know damn well you be bussin’ them niggas’ asses, nigga, you betta, nigga.”
“You have one minute,” the recorded voice echoed.
“I ain’t gon’ call you back and hold you up ’cause I know you got shit to do out there, but be easy, sis. You make sure you take your time out on them streets. These devils are out to destroy us,” Kevin said, as his minute ended and his call was automatically disconnected.
Kelly was glad she had gotten the opportunity to talk to her baby brother. Now that she had heard his voice, she knew her day was going to get better. Talking to Kevin always lifted her spirits. The fact that he was on the down stretch of his bid was a real good look for her brother. And she was hoping that he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his homecoming. Her mind began to wonder. She started thinking of how good it was going to be to have him home again. All of the new strip clubs she planned on taking him to as soon as his feet hit the concrete. She then thought of all of the clothes she wanted to get him. She had to hook him up with some Coogi and Sean John, Rocawear, and Ralph Lauren. She wanted to have at least ten pairs of sneakers and five pairs of Tims for him to step his feet into. And she was in the process of saving up twenty stacks for him to have when he came home. Kelly wanted her brother to be as fresh and caked up when he came out as the day he went in. She knew that it would take some time to get him to the level where he was before he went in, but she had his back.
“Now, where were we?” Kelly happily asked, smiling from ear to ear.
“Damn, you would think that was your man the way you smilin’ n’ shit.”
“My brother’s love is better than any love that I can get from these niggas on these streets, and he is my man. Shit, while you bullshittin’, that nigga is my main man. Okay, now, again, where were we?”
“We were going to find some fly shit to wear,” Laquisha reminded her.
“Oh yeah,” Kelly said, smiling. “Let’s get it.”
Kelly pulled up in front of Rainbow Shops on Broadway. It was far from the fly shit she had in mind, but after she thought about it, they didn’t have time to deal with the heavy traffic and go downtown to Madison Avenue to the Gucci store. She was good with getting some clothes from Rainbow Shops; they did have some cute outfits that she could stunt around the way. Kelly relit the blunt of purple cush and took a few more hits off of it. She handed the blunt over to Laquisha, who also took her last few pulls off of the blunt, which was now smaller than the butt of a cigarette.
Laquisha smashed the butt into the ashtray. “I ain’t wear the right shit to pack a lot, so just pick a few light things, a’ight?” Laquisha said, blowing smoke from her nostrils.
“Aight, thas’ wassup,” Kelly agreed.
They exited the car and walked into Rainbow Shops. Kelly and Laquisha immediately started dancing and singing to the remix of “Hold Me Down” with Jasmine Sullivan and Mary J. Blige as they began to work the store and look through various racks of jeans and tops, dresses and sweaters. There were a few people in the store shopping, but everyone seemed to be so caught up in the songs that were playing on the radio that no one was really paying attention to what was going on in the store.
Laquisha had stuffed three pairs of leggings in the back of her jeans, making her fat ass look fatter. Kelly had inconspicuously pointed to a few tops she that was feeling. Laquisha was on it as she slid the tops off of their hangers and stuffed them down into the front of her jeans. She continued to look around the store to see what goodies she could lift.
Kelly had more than enough money in her pocket. She didn’t have to steal anything. But it was what Laquisha did to get money, so Kelly figured why not spend her money with Laquisha. She thought maybe it would help her with all of the mouths she had to feed. As far as Kelly was concerned, she could never have enough fly gear to wear and she was getting the clothes for next to nothing. Plus, it was a thrill to get away with it. This was the type of behavior that gave Kelly her adrenaline rush.
After perusing the store and lifting all that she possibly could lift. Laquisha looked around for Kelly, who had since separated from her, to let her know their time was up. Laquisha turned to her left and peeped a white lady staring in her direction. She was one of the sales clerks and she had been watching her. Laquisha was a vet; she didn’t panic. She began to walk the store until she had finally spotted Kelly in the shoes and boots section. She walked over to Kelly and gave her the eye. It was time to go. She couldn’t take the clothes off of her now; if so, she would definitely be busted. So she played it off and walked over to the selection of shoes, grabbed a brown suede knee-high boot that was on display and asked the shoe clerk to get them in her size. She then sat down and pretended like she was going to try on the boots.
Laquisha saw the sales clerk, who had been watching her, walk over to the cash-register area where there were two cashiers and several people in line. The two young black cashiers laughed and joked and carried on a conversation as they popped the security strips off the clothes and rang up the customers, who appeared to be annoyed at their unprofessional behavior. They had no idea what their coworker was up to as she dialed 911 for the police.
It was the perfect opportunity for them to try to get out of the store. Once the sales clerk picked up the phone to call the police, there was going to be a problem. Kelly zigzagged her way through the clothes racks like a mouse in a maze as she headed toward the door to get out of the store. As soon as she pushed the door, Laquisha came running past her.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” Laquisha hastily told Kelly, while running out of
the door toward Buddah’s car.
Kelly followed suit and ran out of the store with the car keys in her hand. She opened the doors with the keyless remote, ran around the back of the car, opened the door and plopped her ass into the driver’s seat. Kelly didn’t realize that you had to press the remote twice in order for all of the doors of the Acura to open. This caused Laquisha’s door to remain locked. Laquisha had reached the passenger-side door and began fumbling with the door handle and discovered that her door was locked. She began banging on the window and yelling for Kelly to open the door. Kelly was doing her best, but every time she unlocked the door, Laquisha would do something to the handle and the door automatically locked itself back.
“Stop fuckin’ with the door. You lockin’ it, not unlockin’ it!” Kelly yelled.
Back inside the store, the sales clerk had been waiting forever for someone to take her report and she couldn’t wait any longer. She couldn’t believe that she was actually trying to report a crime and had been asked by the 911 operator to hold. She slammed the phone down in absolute disgust and she instinctively ran after Laquisha and Kelly in an attempt to stop them.
“Will you two stop talking about a whole bunch of nothing and call the goddamned police, for Christ’s sake—those two black girls just stole some clothes from the store!” she screamed angrily.
The sales clerk came up behind Laquisha, catching her before she could figure out how to open the door and get into the car.
“Uh, excuse me, miss,” she called out loud.
“Yeah?” Laquisha asked, as she snapped her neck briskly around with pure attitude to face the sales clerk.
“Uh, I’m sorry, but I believe you have some merchandise that belongs to my establishment, and I’m going to need you to come on back into the store,” the sales clerk said nervously. Her skin was a pale pink, but it was getting rosier. Her stringy brown hair wavered in the wind as she stood outside in the cool air with no jacket on. She was trembling from the weather, but she was mostly trembling from fear as she confronted Laquisha. After seeing the hateful look that Laquisha’s face displayed, she now wished she would have stayed inside.
“Yeah, bitch, you need to be sorry, ’cause I don’t have nothin’ that belongs to you, so just take your cracker ass back on inside your fuckin’ wack-ass store,” Laquisha angrily told her.
Kelly slid the automatic window down and flashed her .380 at the sales clerk.
“Hey, miss, do me a favor, go on back in the store. I don’t want to hurt you,” Kelly politely told her.
The terrified sales clerk was about to back away from the Acura, but she wasn’t moving fast enough for Laquisha so she punched her in the face so hard that she fell and hit the ground. She screamed out for help as she gripped her face and began to whimper and cry. With the window down, Laquisha was able to reach in and open the car door, but the injured sales clerk was in her way. Laquisha used her foot and kicked her out of the way. She jumped into the car and slammed the door shut. She stared at the side profile of Kelly’s face and gave her the evil eye. If Laquisha didn’t know any better, she would have thought that Kelly was trying to lock her out on purpose to take the rap.
Kelly felt the glare of Laquisha’s eyes on her as she pummeled the gas pedal to the floor. Kelly didn’t give a fuck what Laquisha was thinking. Her freedom was vital. She didn’t have time for Laquisha’s slow and confused ass. Kelly’s only objective was to be the fuck out of there, and thanks to her, they were out. The screeching wheels of the Ac disturbed the peace as the car lunged forward and Kelly slung the vehicle around the corner of Broadway.
Chapter 3
Time for Some Action
Dante Evans sat behind the wheel of his unmarked police car parked on the corner of 181st and Broadway with his head laid back on the headrest and his eyes closed. He took his pointer fingers and massaged his eyelids. He was tired. It had been a real long day. He was in the middle of training to go undercover and had been assigned to Colonial for the first half of the day. Now back in his NYPD uniform, Dante was thankful that he was nearing the end of his day. The next shift started at four o’clock and it was already a little after two. He was looking forward to a cold beer and reclining in his favorite chair with his feet up. The Giants were playing Chicago and he was betting some of his fellow police officers on his Giants, even though they were not favored to win; he had been a die-hard Giants fan all of his life. And when Dante was on your team, he was on your team for life. Dante’s stomach began to growl. It prompted him to contemplate what he wanted to eat for dinner. A few tasty options dashed through his weary mind. There was some leftover take-out Chinese food, or he had some cold cuts and some soup. Just as he was about to make a decision, a call came over his radio.
“Unit 7710, we have a report of a shoplifting incident at Rainbow Shops on Broadway. Suspects are two black females, one extremely dark with braids, the other extremely light in complexion with red hair. Suspects look to be in their mid-to-late twenties and driving a fourdoor Acura, either black or dark blue in color—first three characters of the license plate X-ray, Umbrella, Victor–the remaining characters are unknown. Suspects are armed and are assumed to be dangerous. Do you copy?”
“Damn,” Dante exclaimed in frustration.
He loved what he did for a living, but a tiny part of him was hoping the criminals and derelicts of the city would have taken a break until his shift change, but he was to have no such luck. Dante briefly thought not to respond to the call, but he knew that would not sit well with him. He responded to the call.
“This is unit 7710, copy.”
“Roger that, unit 7710. I’m putting a call out for backup.”
“Roger that.”
Now it was Dante’s adrenaline that was beginning to rush. Even when he was exhausted, it didn’t take much for him to get that natural high from the dispatcher’s voice calling his unit number. Dante’s tired eyes transformed into those of an eagle as he drove down Broadway, attempting to locate the car that the suspects were driving. Out of nowhere a navy blue Acura flew past him. It was difficult, due to the fleet of traffic on the street, but he was able to make a U-turn as he headed in the opposite direction. Dante sounded the sirens and turned the flashing red and blue lights on. He was having a hard time seeing the Acura. It seemed to have blended in with all of the cars on the avenue. Dante tried all he could, but his actions were limited. It was hard to impel the vehicle and maneuver due to the squeeze of other cars on the street. The black ’09 Dodge Charger with its full body dodged slowly in and out of cars that were blocking Dante’s path and his access to the Acura.
“Damn, Laquisha, why the fuck you had to hit that bitch? Now, these fuckin’ devils is chasin’ us. I gotta meet Buddah at fuckin’ four o’clock, man, shit, man!” Kelly yelled, in an agitated tone.
“Man, fuck that, what was I supposed to do, just stand there and let the bitch catch me for boosting some shit for yo fuckin’ ass?” Laquisha asked, with an attitude of her own.
“Oh, so now it was all for me?” Kelly asked. She could have sworn Laquisha had some shit stuffed in her ass for her own self as well. But it was all good; she was used to bitches flip-flopping like a fish when the heat was on and it came down to the come down.
“Then you wanna play fuckin’ big and bad and show her your fuckin’ gun. That was real fuckin’ smart,” Laquisha yelled.
“It scared her bitch ass, didn’t it?” Kelly asked, daringly.
Kelly was approaching a red light. She had to make a decision. Was she going to stop the car and risk the possibility of the police catching up to them or was she going to run the red light and risk the possibility of running into who knew how many oncoming cars that were driving through the green light at the busy intersection?
Kelly decided to play it safe. She stopped and allowed the traffic to continue to flow as it should. She thought about calling Buddah, but she didn’t want to panic him. Plus, she was a little caught up at the moment. Kelly’s heart was
pounding just as fast as her mind was racing as she tried to think of what to do next. She should have just gone and taken care of business and collected the money from Chop and Spank, smoked her purple cush, and chilled the fuck out. But, nah, her fast ass wanted to find some shit to get into. Now she was involved in a high-speed chase with the NYPD.
Kelly’s decision to stop at the red light turned out to be a bad one. Officer Dante Evans tapped on her window with the tip of his .45 and motioned for her to roll the car window down. Kelly could have driven off, but something told her if she did, shit would get a lot worse than it already was.
“Man, Kelly, drive the fuckin’ car,” Laquisha said, anxiously.
“Drive it where, Laquisha?” Kelly asked in exasperation.
“You gon’ just fuckin’ give up and get us arrested?” Laquisha asked in disappointment and disbelief. All she could think of was the fact that she had her five kids at home waiting on her to walk through the door and fix them dinner. She didn’t have time to be getting locked up.
“I need you to shut the fuck up and let me handle this, okay? I got this,” Kelly told her.
She rolled down the window.
“Do you realize that you fled the scene of a crime?” Dante asked Kelly, immediately noticing her red hair. That made two redheaded problems for him in one day.
“Crime—uh, no, Officer, I didn’t commit no crime,” Kelly said nervously.
“Miss, I could arrest you simply for the way you were recklessly driving. That in itself is a crime,” Dante told her.
Around the Way Girls 8 Page 16