“Let him live?”
“That’s what I said. Do I need to repeat myself?”
The young boy dropped his head and walked off in the opposite direction. He wasn’t about to challenge Six’s authority.
________
“I can’t believe you left my daughter back there wit’ that fuckin’ physco!” Priscilla banged the top of the dashboard with both hands.
“We’ll get her back, don’t worry.”
“Don’t worry? I want her back now!”
“We can’t go back there, Priscilla. You killed a fuckin’ cop!” Mox was doing 70 MPH in 50 MPH zone, swerving in and out if the congested highway traffic.
“How do we know he was a cop? He didn’t show us a badge.”
“Cop or not Priscilla… it’s still a body. We gotta leave New York.”
“Leave? I’m not goin’ nowhere without my daughter. Pull over, Mox.”
“I’m not stoppin’ Priscilla. You buggin’.”
When she saw he had no intentions on slowing down, she leaned over, grabbed the wheel and almost caused a major collision. Luckily, Mox was a skilled driver and was able to avoid a wreck.
“What the fuck is wrong wit’ you, Priscilla? You tryna kill us?”
She impatiently sat in the passenger seat, tight lipped and furious. “Stop the car, Mox.”
He ignored her and kept his eyes on the road ahead.
“Mox, stop the car and let me out. I’m not leavin’ New York without Brandi. You can do what you wanna do.”
“Priscilla, put your seatbelt on.”
“Fuck the seatbelt, Mox. Stop the car!”
“The fuckin’ police is behind us, put your seatbelt on.”
As soon as Priscilla pulled the seatbelt across her chest, the cop hit the sirens.
“Fuck!” Mox looked at Priscilla and shook his head. “You see this shit…”
Priscilla turned in her seat to see where the cop was. “He’s on us, Mox. You gotta go faster.”
Mox checked the rearview and saw how close the patrol car was. “You gotta get ‘em off me, Priscilla. They too close.”
“What am I gonna do?”
“You still got bullets in that gun?”
Priscilla released her seatbelt, stuck her body halfway out the window, and aimed her gun at the police car. She squeezed the trigger and let three slugs fly from the barrel into the windshield. The window shattered and the officer jerked the wheel and swerved out the lane like he’d been hit by a bullet.
Mox maneuvered through a few more cars, hit the gas, and sped down the highway.
After driving for six and a half hours straight, Mox hit his right blinker and merged with the light traffic that was flowing off 95. He looked to his right and Priscilla was sleeping like baby—feet up in the seat with her knees to her chest.
Mox made another right turn onto West Broad Street, and kept straight until he saw the Hess gas station to his left. He tapped Priscilla’s leg. “Wake up.”
She squirmed in her seat for a moment and then wiped her eyes free of sleep. “Where are we?” she asked, looking around.
“Virginia,” Mox answered. “Richmond.”
“Richmond, Virginia? What are we doin’ here, Mox?”
“I got a few people out here I used to deal with. I know we can blend in and move some of this work.”
“What about Brandi?”
“We’re gonna get Brandi back. Stop worrying. It won’t do nothin’ but stress you out. Lemme get things in order, and I promise we’ll get her back.” Mox cut the ignition and stepped out the car to go into the store. “You want somethin’?”
Priscilla shook her head no. She was still very upset at the fact that they had to leave their daughter behind. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t understand how someone could leave their child and be okay with it. It was disturbing her nerves.
On his way out the store, Mox’s cell phone rang. His phone was new and he had given only a handful of people his contact information, and the number that showed up on his caller ID wasn’t familiar. He let it ring until it stopped, and then got back into the car. As soon as he pulled off, it rang again, same number.
“Why aren’t you pickin’ your phone up?” Priscilla asked.
“Because I don’t know who it is.”
“It could be Brandi, pick it up.”
Mox thought about what she said. She could be right. He did make sure Brandi knew the number in case of an emergency, and this whole situation was an emergency.
He looked down at the phone ringing and finally picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Goddamn nephew, how many times I gotta call yo’ ass before you answer… shit.”
“I ain’t know it was you Unc, wassup?”
“I need you baby, where you at?”
“I’m OT right now, but what’s good?”
“Goddamnit!”
“What’s wrong Unc, you got a problem?”
“A small thang, a small thang baby boy. But ahh… I need to see as soon as possible. When you coming back?”
“Gimme a few days and I’ll meet up wit’ you somewhere.”
“Okay nephew, I’ll see you then. Aye, listen, be careful out there. Keep your eyes open.”
“Aight Unc, peace.“Mox hung up and they pulled off.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
After one month of living in Virginia, Mox and Priscilla were right back in the game. This time, even deeper. Richmond was a foreign playing field they had to get familiar with, and even being slightly familiar, it was still a task trying to adjust, especially for Mox. But he intended to keep his cool and stick to his plan. It was only so much he could do without drawing attention to himself, so he chose to play incognito and shy away from the limelight.
On the other hand, Priscilla was slowly slipping back into some of her old ways. Somehow, she managed to befriend two females she was introduced to, and lately, she had been hanging out a lot. When confronted about it, her only excuse was, she missed her daughter and can’t function without her.
Mox saw the switch in her demeanor when asked about it, but he didn’t pay too much attention to it. The money was coming in steadily and he was ready to make his next move. Just a few more pieces had to be put in place, and everything would be all good; but everything’s never all good.
Despite its vast population, Richmond, Virginia is a rather small, close-knit city. If something happened in north Richmond, the south and the west side would find out about it immediately. There was little that went unknown in the city, so when the word on the street was that a new face was in town; everybody knew whom it was—everybody but the one person who should have known.
_______
Quiane and two of his partners relaxed on the posh sofas in The V.I.P area of Club Bliss. It was a Friday night, and as expected, the spot was jam-packed. A barrage of 6-8 women bombarded the V.I.P entrance with the hopes of someone spotting them and inviting them in.
Quiane glanced down the stairs at the small crowd of barely dressed women and shook his head. “Bitches do anything jus’ to get in V.I.P.”
“Ayo, that one right there with the blue dress on, she’s bad.” Kyle said. He was sitting to the right of Quiane, sipping his drink.
“That’s Toya, I know them bitches.” Kurt replied. He was sitting on the opposite side of Quiane going through his phone.
“Yo, Kurt… call ‘em over here. I like that bitch in the blue, she can definitely get it.” Kyle said.
Kurt was about to call for Toya, but Quiane stopped him. “Why every time we come to the club y’all niggas gotta invite these broke ass bitches to V.I.P? Fuck that… I ain’t payin’ for their drinks tonight. You niggas want ʼem up here, y’all pay for their shit.”
Kurt smiled at Quiane, stood up, and then pulled a roll of cash from his front pocket. “You ain’t sayin’ nothing nigga… I got money,” He let the bills fall from his hand, and onto the table in front of them. “What’s the price, my nigga? Tw
o, three thousand?” Hundred dollar bills covered the table. “We gettin’ money, my nigga… this shit don’t mean nothing to me, and it shouldn’t mean nothing to you… ya’ rich muthafucka.”
“Yeah, and I wanna stay that way. I ain’t trickin’ on them bum ass bitches. Y’all niggas crazy.” Quiane replied.
“It ain’t trickin’ if you got it.” Kurt sang while pouring himself a drink. He tapped Kyle on the shoulder. “That bitch Toya a freak too, son!” he said, laughing.
“Oh word? Yeah, go get them bitches… fuck what this nigga talkin’ about… I’m tryna score tonight.”
Quiane shook his head at his homeboys and watched as Kurt made his move on the ladies.
On a regular night, Quiane would stop by Club Bliss, have a drink, and keep it moving. Tonight was different. Tonight, the club scene was a spectacle for all to see, and the entire city had come out to have some fun.
Looking down at the crowded dance floor from where he stood, Quiane watched the partygoers party hard. The music was blasting, clouds of fog filled the air, along with smoke from all the hookahs being smoked, and the women were coming in by the bunches.
Quiane finished his glass of champagne and thought he saw a face in the crowd that he recognized, so he started making his way down to the dance floor.
“Where you goin’, nigga?” Kurt asked. He was coming up the stairs, followed by four women in tight dresses and mini-skirts.
“I’ll be right back. I’m goin’ to the bathroom.” he lied.
By the time he reached the dance floor/bar area, the face he’d been looking for was mixed into the crowd of hundreds. It was almost impossible to find someone you thought you saw. He stood in the crowd and continued to survey the area.
_______
Priscilla fixed her titties in her bra and then summoned the bartender. “Can I have a vodka with a splash of cranberry and pineapple, and two straight shots of Patron? What y’all drinking?” she asked her two friends.
“Same as you,” they replied.
The downstairs bar area was overcrowded. It was only by a miracle that Priscilla and her girls managed to get some seats. Just as they were walking up, two men and a female were leaving, so Erin, the youngest of the three, rushed over and secured the three barstools.
Not even five minutes passed and they were turning down advances and free drinks from every dude that walked by. Priscilla’s other friend, Ariel, was getting frustrated.
“Why every time we come to this spot, these weak ass niggas always pressin’ us?” Just as she finished talking, a tall, light-skinned guy with curly hair brushed against her. He acted as if it were an accident, and then asked to buy her a drink.
“No nigga… I don’t want you to buy me no drink,” she said. “And you didn’t get the memo, huh?”
“What memo?” he asked.
“Light-skinned niggas been outta style since eighty-eight!” The three women broke out in laughter while curly hair eased off to the next group of females. It was routine for the girls to turn down more than twenty guys in less than an hour, but after a while, it became irritating.
Priscilla downed her two straight shots of Tequila, tapped Erin on her arm and the two of them walked towards the bathroom. “We’ll be right back, Ariel, gotta use the lil’ girls room.” she said, but Ariel knew the real reason for them going into the bathroom. It just wasn’t something she was into.
“Okay, hurry up. I’ll be right here.”
When they got to the restroom, there was a line that almost stretched to the back exit. A hoard of scantily dressed women waited for their turn to use the bathroom.
“It’s too many people on this line to be standin’ around waitin’. C’mon, Priscilla.” Erin snatched her friend’s hand and they maneuvered their way to the front of the long line.
“Ungh Ungh bitch, I know you ain’t cuttin’ the line?” Someone shouted.
Erin and Priscilla kept it moving, and as soon as the restroom door opened, they slithered by the female exiting and scurried in.
“Damn girl… you gon’ get us jumped in here.” Priscilla wasn’t used to Erin’s way of doing things. She had an ‘I don’t give a fuck, I’ma get mines’ attitude towards everything, and it seemed to be working for her, but Priscilla couldn’t get familiar with it. It wasn’t her style.
Erin was a true country girl from Tallahassee Florida. When she was 14 years old, her mother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and 9 months later, she was dead. From that day on, Erin would learn to fend for herself. With no knowledge of who her biological father was, and her mother in a grave, she did what she felt was best for her. And what was best for her was the streets.
“Please… these bitches jus’ be talkin’. They ain’t gon’ do nothin’.” She pushed the stall door open. “C’mon… get in here.”
Priscilla followed her into the stall and anxiously fiddled through her Chanel purse, looking for something. “I don’t know where it is.” She panicked, looking at Erin.
“Bitch, you better hurry up and find it. We ain’t got all day.”
“Oh, here it is.” Priscilla pulled a piece of aluminum foil out, unfolded it, and sprinkled a tiny amount of the white, crystallized powder onto the back of her hand. Quickly, she shoved it up her nose and passed the foil to Erin, who did the same. When they finished, they washed their hands, fixed their hair, and made their exit.
On the way back to the bar, Priscilla felt someone tap her shoulder, but she kept walking. She knew how dudes in the club got after a few drinks, and she wasn’t about to blow her high, arguing with some nigga. But once he grabbed her arm, she had to turn around.
“Get the fuck—” When she saw the smile, she could do nothing but laugh. She tried to remember his name as she stood there gazing into his eyes. “Umm… umm…” She couldn’t get it. “What’s your name? I honestly forgot.”
“You forgot, huh?”
“Yeah, I mean, it’s normal to forget a person’s name if you haven’t seen them since the day you met them.”
“So, you remember meeting me?”
“Yes. But I don’t remember where. Enlighten me, please.”
He smiled again and then looked at Erin. He’d seen her around before. “Quiane.” he said, extending his hand to Priscilla.
“Yes. Quiane… now I remember. How are you?”
“I’m good, and yourself? I see you lookin’ sexy as ever.”
The compliment made Priscilla blush, which was rare. “Thank you,” she replied. “I’m okay, just enjoying the weekend.”
“Ughmm… excuse me,” Erin butted in. “You not gonna introduce me to your lil’ friend?”
“Oh… Erin, this is Quiane. Quiane, this is my friend, Erin.”
“Why don’t y’all come upstairs wit’ me and my boys? We got drinks and everything.”
Priscilla looked at Erin. “I can’t leave my girls,” she said.
“They can come too. Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh, y’all ballin’ huh?” Erin joked.
“Nah, ma, we jus’ like havin’ fun… that’s all. Now, y’all comin’ or what?”
“Yes, we’re coming. I just have to get my other friend. We’ll meet you up there.”
Priscilla and Erin rushed back to the bar area where Ariel was waiting.
“C’mon, we out!” Erin grabbed her arm and pulled her off the barstool. “We goin’ to V.I.P.”
“V.I.P, with who?”
“Priscilla’s friend…” She tried to remember his name, but couldn’t. “What’s his name, Priscilla?”
“Quiane.”
“Who?” Ariel didn’t hear her.
“Quiane,” she repeated. “I met him a while ago in New York. He helped me one day.”
The three women looked up to the V.I.P area, and Quiane was staring down at them. He waved his arm in the air, telling them to come upstairs.
“Look, c’mon… “ Erin pointed. “They’re waiting for us.”
Smiling, the three of them walk
ed towards the stairs.
________
“Yo, Q… come here.” Kyle was standing at the railing in the V.I.P overlooking the dance floor. “You see that nigga right there?”
“Who?”
“The nigga wit’ the patch on his eye… right there.”
“Yeah, yeah… I see him. Who is he?”
“That’s the nigga I was tellin’ you about. He out here gettin’ money.”
Quaine smirked as he peered down at the overcrowded club. He tipped the bottle of champagne to his lips and drank. After he wiped his chin, he looked at Kyle, and then over the crowd again. He wasn’t too fond of new faces in his town, but tonight he was more focused on Priscilla. He’d deal with his new problem whenever he saw fit. “Get all the info you can on that nigga, and I’ll take care of it on another date. Tonight,” he said, watching the three women walk. “I’ma take care of this right here.”
________
As soon as the girls reached the stairs that led to the V.I.P area, Ariel made a swift turn on her heels and started to go back downstairs. Priscilla chased after her to see what the problem was.
“Ariel, what’s wrong?”
“Do you know who he is, Priscilla?”
Priscilla looked back. “Who?”
“Quiane.”
“Oh, you know him?”
“Know him?” Ariel’s eyes got big. “He’s only the biggest drug dealer in Richmond. Duh… everybody knows him.”
“And, what… that’s a problem?”
“My boyfriend ain’t gonna like the fact that I’m hanging out with his arch enemy.”
“C’mon, jus’ have one drink with us and then we’ll leave.”
“I can’t, Priscilla… I gotta go.”
Ariel didn’t waste another second. She knew what Quiane was about. In fact, she had seen him and his cronies in action more than once. Richmond Virginia was her home, and she knew every player in the game. She also knew Quiane had a reputation for making trouble in the streets. It was something he liked to do.
“Where that bitch goin’?” Erin questioned, watching Ariel walk back down the steps.
The Union III Page 7