“You miss me?” he asked, holding two Gucci shopping bags in his hand.
Priscilla smiled when she saw the bags. Gucci was one of her favorite stores to shop in, and Mox knew it. “Just a lil’ bit,” she said, showing him the amount with her fingers.
“Well, that ain’t enough,” he responded, hiding the bags behind his back.
“Pleeeease…” She begged, getting closer. Priscilla wrapped her arms around Mox’s neck and pecked his lips.
“What the fuck happened to your face?” he questioned, seeing the light bruise on her cheek.
Priscilla’s eyes widened and her instinct caused her to touch the exact spot where the bruise was. “Huh, what?” She acted as if she didn’t know what he was talking about.
“What you mean, what? You put your hand right on it.” Mox’s mood switched. “Don’t fuckin’ play wit’ me, Priscilla.”
“Mox, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She lied, and rushed over to the mirror that was next to the front door. “Where? I don’t see anything.”
Mox shook his head and dropped the bags on the floor. He knew she was lying and he was fed up with her dishonesty. He was tired of the falsehood they were living in—the backbiting, deceit and deception. It was time to come clean; time to lay all the cards on the table and man up. Time to tell her the whole truth.
“You fuckin’ him, ain’t you?”
An eerie silence swept the entire house. Not even the sounds of nature could be heard. Priscilla turned to Mox with a confused look on her face. “What are you talking about, Mox?”
“You know what the fuck I’m talkin’ about, Priscilla.”
She tried to laugh it off like it was nothing. “You buggin, Mox.”
“Oh, I’m buggin… I’m buggin’, right?” Mox pulled his cell phone from his pocket, went through his pictures, and held it up to Priscilla’s face. “Tell me I’m buggin’ again and watch what the fuck I do to you.”
Priscilla’s bottom lip dropped when she saw the picture of herself and Quiane getting out of his car and getting ready to walk into his house. “Mox… I…”
“Shut the fuck up. You tell another lie and I’ma—”
“I didn’t fuck him, Mox.”
“Stop lying to me, Priscilla. You was in there for three hours. What the fuck you doin’ in that niggas house for three hours?”
“He only gave me a ride home, Mox, I swear.” Tears started to build up in her eyes. “I swear he only gave me a ride because you left me. I didn’t have any other way to get home.”
“Three hours, Priscilla?” Mox smiled, but inside he was crying. “You stayed at that nigga’s house for three hours and you expect me to believe that y’all ain’t do nothing? You lied to me that night in the club and said you didn’t know who he was. “ Mox stood in the middle of his living room looking around. He had just purchased the house with cash, over a hundred thousand in cash. “All this shit,” he said, waving his hand. “I did it for you… for us, and what you do? You go behind my back and fuck wit’ some lame ass nigga who probably sold you a dream.”
“For me?” Priscilla was livid. “Fuck what you did for me, Mox. Where’s Brandi, huh? Where’s our daughter, Mox? Oh, did you forget that you had a daughter? Don’t fucking stand here and criticize me like I’m the only one who did some fucked up shit in this relationship.” The tears came pouring out of her eyes. “You did me wrong, Mox, and you know it. I loved you and you did me wrong. You told me you loved me. What this fuckin’ tattoo we got, ” she pointed at her neck. “I guess this shit don’t mean nothing, huh? I thought it was let no one stand before we… before us Mox, you and I. You don’t love me, you jus’ say that shit to appease me.”
“I do love you, Priscilla.”
“No you don’t!” she screamed. “You don’t continue to hurt the person you love. You don’t do that, Mox.”
Mox knew she was right, and there was nothing he could say. The only thing left to do was to tell her everything. Tears were falling from Priscilla’s eyes like a waterfall. She could barely catch her breath. “Priscilla…” Mox called her name and she tried to ignore him. “Priscilla, look at me.”
“What, Mox?”
“Jasmine’s pregnant.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“You sure this the right address?” Cleo asked.
“It gotta be. This is the address he gave me.”
Cleo pulled up to the trailer home and parked in the grass. It looked abandoned. The small, shack like trailer was rundown and dilapidated, but there were two cars parked in front. He snatched the key out the ignition. “Well, go see if he’s in there.” he said to Whoadie.
Whoadie stepped out the car, walked to the door, rang the bell and waited. He could hear people shuffling around inside.
“Who is it?” A female asked from inside the trailer.
“It’s Whoadie, is Q here?”
The locks came off and the door opened. Standing in the doorway was a short, brown skinned female who was naked from the waist up. Her breasts were perky, her hair was in a ponytail, and she had a white dust mask over her nose and mouth. “He back deer,” she said, in a heavy southern accent.
Whoadie turned and waved to Cleo who was still standing by the car. “C’mon,” he told him.
The trailer home had very few pieces of furniture; a table, a couch and some chairs. Four half-dressed women sat around the mid-sized wooden table, sifting cocaine, cutting it, and placing it in plastic lunch baggies.
“Ladies…” Cleo greeted, smiling from ear to ear.
He and Whoadie were escorted to the back where Quiane sat on a twin-sized bed, tossing stacks of money into a black duffle bag that was on the floor.
“Cousin, what’s good wit’ you?”
“Same shit, looking for a come up. What’s good wit’ you?”
Quiane smiled. “Who’s your boy?” he asked, ignoring Whoadie’s question.
“This my nigga, Cleo.”
“What’s good?” Cleo extended his arm to shake Quiane’s hand.
“What y’all niggas doin’ in Richmond? Ain’t shit out here.”
“Came to see you.”
Quiane looked at his cousin and smiled again. “Nigga, what the fuck you did?” He knew his cousin’s only reason for being there was because something happened.
“I didn’t do nothing I wouldn’t usually do. You know how I get down, boy.”
“Yeah, ” Quiane nodded. “I know exactly how you get down. I need a favor though.”
“Anything for you cuz, what you need?”
Quiane pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and passed it to Whoadie. “Drop this bag off at the address and bring the other bag back. Can you handle that?”
“I got you, cuz.”
Quiane tossed two more stacks of money into the bag and pushed it towards Whoadie. When they got back out to the car, Cleo jumped in the driver’s seat and Whoadie put the bag in the trunk and then got in on the passenger side.
“How much you think is in the bag?” Cleo asked, starting the car.
“I don’t know… couple hunit thousand prolly.”
Cleo thought about the amount of money in the bag. They already had over a hundred thousand in cash, two guns, and some jewelry from their last robbery, but he wanted more. He was greedy and never satisfied.
Before they reached the address that Quiane gave them, he pulled over to the side of the road. Whoadie looked around; he was confused. “Why you stop? This ain’t the address.” They were on a dirt road surrounded by thick woods on both sides.
“I gotta check that tire on your side. I think it has a leak.” He lied, grabbing the gun that was underneath his seat. Cleo got out the car and walked around to the passenger side. He bent down to act like he was checking the tire, and when he came up, the gun was in his hand and it was pointed at Whoadie.
Whoadie tried to duck, but the bullet crashed through the window and hit him in his ear. He was slumped over the middle console with blood com
ing from the hole in the side of his head. Cleo put two more slugs in his chest to make sure he was dead, and then opened the door, dragged his limp corpse from the vehicle, and left him the woods. He then continued to the address that was on the paper.
Cleo rang the bell, and as soon as the door was opened, his gun went off. Flame shot from the barrel and several shots followed. The other two occupants of the house tried to scurry to safety, but Cleo was swift. He moved through the small trailer, clutching the pistol, pumping lead into any moving figure in his sight. When the shots stopped, there were three dead bodies spread throughout the trailer.
He looked around. The setup was identical to Quiane’s with a table, chairs and a couch. When he walked into the kitchen, there was a duffle bag that looked exactly like the one Quiane had given Whoadie. He unzipped it and smiled. It was full of cocaine. With both bags in his possession, Cleo got back into his car and drove off.
THE NEXT DAY
“This ain’t like my cousin, he don’t do shit like this.” Quiane explained. He got up from the chair he was sitting in and paced the floor. Kurt and Kyle sat on the sofa directly across from him, and Priscilla was walking in from the kitchen. “Kyle, did you get in touch wit’ Tammy?”
“Nah, not yet,” he answered. “I called a few times but no one answered.”
Quiane rubbed his hands together, trying not to think about the worst case scenario. “I know somethin’ happened… yo, y’all niggas take a ride over to Tammy’s spot and see what’s up. Call me as soon as you get there.”
“How much was in the bag, babe?” Priscilla inquired.
“About, two hunit.”
“And you trusted him with all that money?”
“It was times I gave him more than that. I know my cousin. Whoadie don’t get down like that. I been around him all my life…” Quiane paused and collected his thoughts. “That nigga he was with though… I don’t know about him.”
“Who was he?”
Quiane tried to recall the name. “Umm… I don’t know. I forgot what Whoadie said his name was… fuck!” he yelled.
“Calm down babe, we’ll get to the bottom of it… trust me.” Priscilla massaged his shoulders and then sat in his lap. “The last thing you need to be stressin’ over is money, we’ll get it back.”
“It ain’t the money I’m worried about, it’s the product. The only place I can get high quality product like that is in New York, and right now, I can’t go back up there. I gotta take care of this shit down here.”
“Can you get someone else to go up there?”
Quiane thought about it. “Nah, Kurt and Kyle got warrants in damn near every state, so I can’t ask them to do it. Besides them, I don’t trust no one else.”
“I’ll do it for you.” Priscilla said.
Quiane stared her; she wasn’t smiling, she was dead serious. “Do what?”
“I’ll go to New York and handle whatever you need me to do. I’m capable.”
Quiane grinned, but Priscilla kept a straight face. “You serious ain’t you?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I mean, it can’t be that hard of a task, right?”
“You don’t even know what you gettin’ yourself into. This shit ain’t no game, Priscilla. You can get fifty years doin’ this.” Quiane explained.
“Can I ask you somethin’?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you love me?” Priscilla asked, looking directly into Quiane’s eyes.
“Yeah, I love you.”
“Do you trust me?”
Quiane hesitated. “Until you give me a reason not to.”
Priscilla brushed the side of his face. “Quiane,” she whispered. “If I give you my heart, would you protect it with your life?”
“Of course I would, Priscilla.” Quiane leaned in close, kissed her lips and she kissed him back.
“So, let me do this for you.”
Before he could answer, his cell phone rang. “Hello?”
“This shit is ugly, Q… blood everywhere, no bags, and no sign of your cousin, Whoadie.”
“Fuck!” He slammed the phone on the carpet, took a deep breath, closed his eyes and tried to figure out a solution.
Seconds later, when his eyes opened, Priscilla was standing directly in his face. “All you gotta do is tell me who I need to see.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Mox hadn’t heard from Priscilla in almost a week. He was starting to believe that it was over for them; their relationship was finished. He felt in his heart the he had done the right thing by exposing the truth and telling her what it was, but never did he think she would leave. He loved Priscilla dearly and would do anything for her. But to wait in the wind for her to come back from who knows where, is something he wasn’t going to do.
“What if she comes back and you gone?” Travis asked, watching Mox put the last bag into the car.
“That’s her problem. I’m goin’ back to New York. Christmas is two days away, Jasmine is pregnant, and my uncle Earl is gettin’ baptized.”
“What about the work that’s on the streets?”
“You take care of that. Handle it how you see fit.” He snatched the last of his belongings and piled them into the rental car. “I’ma see you when I come back, Travis… and keep my muthafuckin’ house clean too.” he said, laughing and jumping into the driver’s seat. Right before he put the key in the ignition, his cell phone rang. “Hello?”
“You have a collect call from an inmate at a Westchester County Correctional Facility. To accept this call, please press three. If you no longer wish to receive…”
Mox pressed three and cut the recording short. He had no idea who it was, but he wanted to find out. “Hello?” he repeated.
“Yooo, Mox what’s good… it’s Bing.”
“Bing, what’s good boy… damn nigga, they got you again?”
“Yeah, man… serious shit this time. Them alphabet boys snatched me up two weeks ago. I had just moved out here to White Plains n’ shit… I was chillin’, but I guess they had other plans. These muthafucka got me in the federal hold up here in Valhalla.”
“Damn son, so what you need? You know I got you.” Mox asked.
“I’m good right now. Only thing I need you to do is get a message to my sister. She stay over there by the old Yankee stadium.”
“I got you.”
“Good looking, Mox, I appreciate it. You know how we do.”
“Aight Bing… hold your head, peace.” Mox hung up the phone, started the car and pulled off.
-NEW ROCHELLE, NEW YORK-
“I told you I was going to get yo’ punk ass.” Tyrell cursed. “Six, bring that nigga over here.”
Gahbe was naked as a newborn baby, shivering and shaking in the winter frost. It was so cold that the tears and snot coming from his eyes and nose was freezing on his face. Six held him by the back of his neck and walked him to the edge of the roof where Tyrell was standing.
“Kinda cold out here huh, Gahbe?” Tyrell joked. “Check this out though… I’ma give you an ultimatum. Either you can jump off this muthafuckin’ roof by yourself, or you can take the bullet that gon’ come out this pistol.”
Gahbe’s hands were shaking as he wiped the snot from his face. “Fu… fu… fuck you nig… nigga. Ki… kil… kill me mutha… muthafucka!” he spat.
Tyrell grinned and glanced at Six. “This nigga talkin’ big shit, huh? Move Six.” He pulled a black.9-millimeter from his coat, cocked it, walked up on Gahbe and pressed the barrel against his forehead. “I’m startin’ to like this shit Gahbe… you know… this murder shit. You should’a killed me when you had the opportunity, you bitchassnigga.” He stared into his eyes and squeezed the trigger. The echo from the blast was heard throughout the entire projects, and Gahbe’s body fell to the pavement.
-CHRISTMAS DAY 2012-
Mox woke up at 5am Christmas morning. He brushed his teeth, showered and got dressed to go out and get an early breakfast. Light snow flurries fell from the clouded skies blanket
ing the cold pavement as he cruised the empty streets of New Rochelle.
After a light breakfast, Mox went to pick Jasmine up so they could get ready to attend church services. It was a special day. A special day for Mox because it would be his first time in a church in years, and a special day for his uncle, Earl, because today he would turn over a new leaf and begin a new life.
While they sat in the car at a red light, Jasmine stared out the window at nothing in particular. She was in a deep trance. She rubbed her stomach and thought about the life that was growing inside of her. She thought about starting a family with Mox, and a smile appeared on her face. It was all she ever wanted; all she ever longed for.
Right before the light turned green, Mox’s cell phone rang. He looked down at it and saw it was Priscilla calling, so he picked it up. “Hello?”
“I’m in New York, Mox, I wanna see you.”
“For what, Priscilla?” As soon as Mox mentioned her name, Jasmine’s head turned.
“Because I love you, Mox, and I want us to be together.”
“You shoulda thought about that before you started fuckin’ around on me.”
“We both did wrong, Mox. Let’s put the past behind us and move forward.”
“I am movin’ forward.”
“What about our daughter? You jus’ gonna leave us in the wind like we ain’t shit?”
“You were fine without me before, you’ll be alright. I gotta go.” He said, trying to get her off the phone.
“Mox wait…” Priscilla sniffled. “Are you going to church for uncle Earl’s baptism?”
“Yes, Priscilla.”
“Will you talk to me, please? I jus’ need to say a few words to you, that’s all. I think you owe me that.”
“Owe you?” Mox looked at Jasmine in the passenger seat. She had a disgusted look on her face. “Listen… Priscilla, I gotta go. Bye.”
________
Agent O’Malley and Agent Havoc pulled into Priest’s driveway. His car was parked in the garage, so they had a strong feeling that he was home. They hadn’t heard from him since their visit, and they were highly upset because he hadn’t followed their orders to find Mox and bring him to them.
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