“She said she had to go. Her man called.”
Erin rolled her eyes and went back to the sofa where Quiane and his boys were sitting. She knew the real reason Ariel left, but she didn’t care. Erin was out to enjoy herself.
Priscilla and Erin stayed in the V.I.P with Quiane and his boys for an hour. They had drinks, laughs and more drinks as they partied the night away.
Quiane and Priscilla were engaged in conversation the whole time. She could tell by the way his peers acted around him that he had power, and she knew he had a little bit of money from the watch he was wearing.
“That’s a nice watch you got on.”
Quiane smiled. “What you know about watches?”
“I know a lil’ something. Not much, but enough.”
“Enough, huh?” He smiled again, but this time Priscilla was blushing. “So, how you been Ms. Mysterious?” Quiane giggled.
“Ms. Mysterious? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means exactly what it means. Listen, I saw you in need of help, so I helped you. But after I dropped you off, you got locked up and I never heard from you again. I would say that’s kinda mysterious, wouldn’t you?”
“First of all,” Priscilla rolled her eyes. “You hit me with your fuckin’ truck, so don’t act like you did some Superman shit and saved the day.” She bent down and grabbed at her leg. “I got the scar to prove it, too.”
They laughed when Priscilla couldn’t keep a straight face.
“I really didn’t mean to hit you though. But you darted into the street like someone was chasing you. I always wanted to ask you what that was all about.”
“Nothing.” She replied nonchalantly.
“Nothing? It looked like something to me. You was runnin’ for your life.” Quiane laughed.
“Oh, that was funny to you, huh?”
“Nah, I’m sayin’…” he couldn’t stop laughing. “You hauled ass up outta there.”
“Well, all that’s over and done with. I got new problems now.”
Quiane sipped his drink. “Don’t we all.” he said.
For the next forty minutes, Priscilla and Quiane talked about everything that came up. They discussed life issues, and she badly wanted to let him in on her secret, but she was skeptical. She really didn’t know this man, but she felt comfortable in his presence. It was something about the way he spoke. It was his aura—his swagger.
“So, where’s your girlfriend?”
The question surprised Quiane and he almost spit his drink out. “Girlfriend? Who said I had a girlfriend?”
“Are you telling me you don’t?”
“That’s exactly what I’m tellin’ you. What’s good wit’ you though… where’s your man?”
“At home.” she answered.
“Oh, so you do have one?” Quiane nodded his head. “He let you come out all sexy like that by yourself?”
“I’m not by myself… and he doesn’t let me do anything. I do what I wanna do.”
“I hear that. You a big girl, huh?” They laughed together.
In the middle of their conversation, Erin walked up sipping her drink. She nudged Priscilla on the arm and gestured for her to look downstairs. “We got trouble at twelve-o-clock,” she warned.
At that moment, Priscilla had no idea what Erin was talking about; that was until she saw him with her own eyes.
“Oh shit.” Immediately, she placed her drink on the table. “Sorry,” she said, looking at Quiane. “We have to go.”
Erin looked at her like she had two heads. “We?”
“Yes, we.” Priscilla snatched her by the arm and tried to pull her towards the stairs, but Erin jerked away from her grasp.
“You gotta leave,” she stated. “I’m stayin’. I’m enjoying myself, thank you.” Erin rolled her eyes and took another sip from her drink.
“But we came together.”
“Yeah, we did… but that’s your man, so it’s your problem.”
Priscilla sucked her teeth and stormed off. She couldn’t believe her so-called friend was acting this way, but there was nothing she could do. Erin had her mind made up, and nobody could tell her otherwise.
“Wassup wit’ your girl,” Kyle asked. “She good?”
“Yeah, she’ll be just fine… her man downstairs.”
“Her man, who that?”
Erin pointed to a table downstairs that was occupied by two guys. One of them had a shiny, baldhead and a patch over his eye, and the other had short, black hair and a pair of dark shades.
“Which one is her man though?”
“The one with the patch.”
“Oh, word?” Kyle downed his drink and stepped over to where Quiane stood. He got close, leaned in and whispered in his ear. “You heard what that bitch jus’ said, right?”
“Yeah… I heard.” Quiane answered. “Send them niggas some champagne… it’s time for us to get acquainted.
________
Mox crossed his left leg over his right knee, lit his cigar, and savored the sweet taste of the hand rolled leaf. He let the smoke out of his mouth and into a crowd of more than 200 people. The heavy bass thumped in his ears as he surveyed the jam-packed club.
“It’s packed in here tonight,” Travis said. He was sitting opposite Mox in a black Calvin Klein sport jacket. “I never saw it this crowded.”
Mox nodded and continued to blow smoke in the air. With the overflowing crowd, he hadn’t noticed the young lady creeping up on his left side, but Travis spotted her from ten feet away and gave him the warning.
“You got company.”
Mox turned and saw Priscilla standing there with a half-smile on her face.
“You told me you weren’t comin’ out,” she said.
“I changed my mind.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, now if I did that it would be a problem.”
“It wouldn’t be a problem. You do what you wanna do anyway.”
“Please, Mox.”
“Listen, Priscilla… I hope you ain’t come over here to start arguing n’ shit.”
“I don’t wanna argue with you, Mox. I came over to say hi.” She reached down and gave him a hug and a kiss on his cheek.
“Excuse me, sir…” A female attendant interrupted. “Those gentlemen up there sent this to you.” She placed a tin bucket filled with ice and a bottle of Moët Rosè on the table in front of them.
Mox looked up to where she pointed, but he didn’t recognize the men standing against the railing. “You know them niggas?”
Travis raised his shades and peeked upstairs. “Yeah, that’s the kid I mentioned the other day, Quiane… He moving a lotta weight out here heavy. He from up top though, I’m surprised you don’t know him.”
“Nah… I don’t’ know that nigga.” Mox rubbed his chin. He couldn’t understand why complete strangers would send over a $350 bottle of champagne. He puffed his cigar, let the smoke flow from his mouth, and slowly turned to Priscilla. She had a blank stare on her face—confused, like she was hiding something. “You know them niggas?” he asked, looking straight in her face.
“No.”
Mox shook his head. He knew she was lying because she couldn’t look at him when she answered.
“If you lying to me, you know I’m gon’ find out. It’s only a matter of time, Priscilla.” he called the attendant who brought over the Moët and asked her what their most expensive bottle of champagne was.
“I believe it’s the Remy Martin Louis the thirteenth.”
“And how much is that, love?”
She pulled a small pad from the pocket on her shirt. “It’s five thousand,” she said.
Mox pulled three money stacks from a small black bag and passed one to the attendant. She ripped the band off and counted out five thousand in hundred dollar bills.
“Do me a favor.” Mox picked up the bucket with the Moët in it and gave it back to her. “Send both of those up there with those guys, and tell ʼem… if they gon’ send something, make sure it co
st more than a stack.” He looked up at the three men and smirked.
“Priscilla, get your shit… Yo, Travis, let’s get outta here.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Earl stood in front of the full body mirror and looked over himself. He was sharp as a tack. He placed his cufflinks on and straightened his tie. It was almost time to go, and he didn’t plan to be late for his debut. He brushed some lint off his pants leg, checked his shoes, and then kneeled and said a prayer.
“God, I know you’re up there watching down on us. Especially me…” he smirked and continued. “I jus wanna ask you for your guidance and support while I travel this long, tedious journey. Please, Lord, give me the strength, courage and wisdom to preach the word to the people. I know I haven’t been the best person… but, I also know I’m not the worst. In Jesus name… Amen.”
After a few moments of silence, Earl got back to his feet, snatched his keys and headed out the door.
Summer was withering away, and autumn was tapping on its front door. A cool fall breeze brushed past his face as he walked down the street to where his car was parked. Earls’ stomach was in knots. The last time he felt like this was more than twenty years ago when he met his first wife, Estelle.
He jumped into the driver’s seat, put the key in the ignition and slowly pulled off down the road. Twelve minutes later, he was parallel parking in front of Shiloh Baptist Church on Lincoln Avenue.
Earl turned the car off and sat for a moment watching all the churchgoers enter the House of the Lord. He thought about all the wrong he’d done; all the pain, heartache and misery he caused was slowly coming back to haunt him. It had been days since he had a good night’s sleep. Physically he was drained, and mentally he was scrambled. His thoughts were a scattered mess. The demons he once suppressed were rising from the pits of his hell, and transforming his life into something that was becoming unstable.
A tap on the passenger side window interrupted his daze. He recognized the woman’s face and rolled the window down.
“How you doin’, Mrs. Bailey.”
“Just fine, baby. Are you ready?”
“A little nervous, but I’m sure I’ll be okay.”
“All you have to do is let God guide you in the right direction. I see he got you this far. Leave all your worries to him. Don’t even think about ʼem.” she replied.
Her kind, soothing words brought a tight smile to Earl’s face. He was appreciative of Mrs. Bailey’s encouragement, and felt it was just what he needed, so he stepped out the car and headed into the church.
As he walked up the steps to the front entrance, his stomach tightened and he felt queasy. Sweat built in his armpits and on his forehead. It had been years since his last church visit, and he had no idea what to expect.
He reached the door, and a small crowd of older women was lined up, entering the church one by one. Earl felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see who it was. “Mrs. Garrett, how are you?” he asked, trying not to seem too nervous.
“Fine, and yourself?”
“Not too good,” he said, laughing it off. “I think I’ll be good… what you think?”
Mrs. Garrett smiled. She could see the sweat trickling down the side of his face. “Being nervous is natural, baby. You just go on in there and speak from your heart. God don’t judge.”
Earl agreed, and they walked into the church side by side.
Mrs. Garrett was one of the oldest sisters to attend the church, and she was also the one who convinced Earl to attend. After some much needed conversation, she was able to encourage him to share his story with the congregation.
When Earl stepped into the lobby, he signed the guestbook and an usher escorted him to his seat. Earl sat through the entire two and a half hours of service until they called his name. He closed the Bible he was holding, scooted past the two people sitting next to him and walked down the aisle to the pulpit.
He was dressed sharp in his new Brooks Brothers suit and matching wingtip shoes. The pastor stepped to the side and let Earl have the microphone.
Prior to him speaking, he scanned the crowd in hopes of seeing his nephew in attendance. The moment he realized there was no sign of him he immediately changed his mind. There was no way he could go through with his plan if Mox wasn’t there.
“Umm…” his nerves were again getting the best of him, and the sweat was starting to reappear. “I had a few things I wanted to say to you all, but unfortunately, there’s been a change in my plans. Forgive me for the inconvenience… I apologize.”
As he stepped away from the pulpit, he noticed Tyrell standing at the back of the church. His stomach dropped and the sweat came down heavier. Earl was in debt to Tyrell, and he knew the only reason he was there was to collect. The problem was; he didn’t have it.
Mrs. Garrett got up from her seat and went over to where Earl was. “What’s the problem, baby?”
Earl shook his head. “It’s not the right time, Mrs. Garrett.”
“Okay baby… I guess the only time it’s right is when God say it is. Until then, I’ll keep you in my prayers.” She moved to the side, and Earl hurried down the aisle. He had lost track of where Tyrell was in those few seconds, and he tried to rush out the door.
“Wassup old man, where you headed?” Tyrell asked, stepping out of a dark corner in the lobby.
Earl jumped at the sound of his voice and stopped dead in his tracks. He was terrified. “Ahh… ahh…” The words weren’t coming out.
“I see you been playin’ hide and seek, huh? This is what it’s come to? This is what gotta happen for me to get mine? You owe me, Earl. I told you I want mine.”
“Listen, Tyrell…”
Tyrell stared into Earl’s eyes. The look was pure hatred. He eased his right hand underneath his shirt, but before he got the chance to retrieve his gun, Mrs. Garrett interrupted them.
“Tyrell, is that you?” she questioned, moving in closer.
“Yes, Mrs. Garrett.” He answered, fixing his shirt.
“I can’t believe how big you’ve gotten.” She spread her arms and hugged him. Instantly, she felt the bulge on his waistline. “How’s your mother? She doesn’t come to the church anymore, is she alright?”
Tyrell knew she felt the gun, and he wanted to get out of there as fast as possible. “Yeah, she’s fine Mrs. Garrett… thanks for askin’.” He took a step towards the exit, but she grabbed his shoulder and whispered in his ear.
“You know God don’t like ugly.”
Tyrell looked at Earl, and then at Mrs. Garrett. He wanted to say something, but chose not to and just walked out.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Fill it up… and keep the change.” Mox told the attendant as he handed him a hundred dollar bill. He turned the radio down and removed the key from the ignition.
“Why you always come to this gas station?” Priscilla asked. She sat in the passenger seat with a pair of black Ray-Bans on, covering her swollen, red eyes, a tight short sleeve shirt, and a pair of fitted jeans.
“Because they have the best service, and it’s the safest.”
“The safest?”
“Yeah, you didn’t notice there’s always a patrol car or two at those other gas stations?” Priscilla shook her head no. “That’s because you don’t pay attention to your surroundings. You too busy doin’ other shit.”
“Whatever, Mox.” she replied, sucking her teeth.
As the attendant finished pumping the gas, Mox’s phone rang. He took a quick glance at it, looked at Priscilla, and then put the key into the ignition.
“Your phone is ringing.”
Mox ignored her and continued to exit the gas station. When she went to reach for it, he pushed her hand away. “Don’t touch my shit, Priscilla. We went through this before.”
“So, pick it up,” she said. “It’s probably your lil’ fuckin’ girlfriend… what’s that bitch’s name?”
Mox was silent for a few seconds. He kept his hands on the steering wheel and his eye on the roa
d ahead. “Priscilla, cut it out, alright. Every day you wanna start a fuckin’ argument over nothing.”
“Over nothing?” the phone was still ringing. “So why don’t you pick the phone up? Because you know I’m right.” As soon as she saw the opportunity, Priscilla reached over and hit the ‘Answer Call’ button on Mox’s phone and a female answered.
“Hello?”
Mox slammed on the brakes and almost caused a collision. He snatched the phone from the middle console and quickly hit the ‘End Call’ button.
“What the fuck is wrong wit’ you, Priscilla?” He tried to grab a handful of her hair, but she fought him off and swung an open palm that connected to the side of his face.
“I knew it was that bitch, you lyin’ muthafucka!”
In the midst of their squabble, Mox was able to put the car in park. He jumped from the driver’s seat, rushed over to the passenger side, and attempted to snatch Priscilla out of the car, but she was putting up a resistance that he wasn’t expecting.
“I told you about puttin’ your fuckin’ hands on me.” He struggled to pry her body from the vehicle, and the only thing stopping him was the seatbelt.
Priscilla tussled to stay on the inside of the car, but once Mox got the seatbelt loose, there wasn’t much she could do.
“Mox, stop!” She cried as he pulled her hundred plus pound body from the automobile. Once he got her out, he dragged her through the middle of the street and onto a patch of grass.
“Why are you doing this?” she sobbed. “I love you… please… stop.”
Mox was oblivious to her pleads and cries. “I ain’t dealing wit’ this shit no more, Priscilla.”
Priscilla wiped the tears from her face and tried to catch her breath. “Why do treat me like this Mox? You know how much I love you.”
Mox turned and started walking back to his car. He knew that what he was doing was absolutely wrong, but at the time, he felt there was a justifiable reason behind it. He loved Priscilla unconditionally—but the drama he could do without.
As he got closer to the car, her screams got louder. “Mox please, please don’t leave me!” She jumped up from the grass, but by the time she reached the car, he was pulling away. Priscilla stood there in the middle of the street—withered, humiliated, and sobbing like a spoiled baby.
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