by C. Stecko
“So, are you gonna retaliate for me,” I whispered into his ear.
“Retaliate? Are you fucking kidding?”
My face remained stern as I spoke. “Do I sound like I’m kiddin’?”
“Look, Co-Co, there’s something you don’t know about me, and probably will never understand. I’m connected with some very dangerous…”
I cut him off with my voice, and my hand pressed firmly into the thin air. “I know.”
“So, Gino reacted in my best interest and I can’t do anything to him without permission.” He paused, then bent forward rubbin’ his hands up and down his pant legs like he was really in deep thought. “He’s protected, so forget about it.”
I leaned forward removin’ my back from the headboard. I was in complete shock. Although it hurt me to move, I was fired up, and ready to fight. “What about me?” I shouted. “I’m supposed to be protected by you.” I pointed my finger just inches from his face. “You were supposed to protect me!” Suddenly, I wept as if the entire ordeal was happenin’ all ova again.
“Co-Co, you’re a fucking moulie. Gino is an enforcer. The boss of bosses would have me whacked if I chose you over him.”
My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I fell back against the headboard. I moved like a see-saw, up and down. I couldn’t believe what he was sayin’. I wanted to call Bo and have him bring some heat to show Tony’s Italian ass how moulies got down. “Did you just call me a nigga?”
“No. A moulie,” he confirmed.
“Same fuckin’ thing, Tony. So you call me your woman, but you defend Gino over me?”
He hit me with a shrug of the shoulders again.
“What are you sayin’, Tony?”
“Plain and simple; you swallow nut for a livin’. Gino makes the family money. He protects and serves.”
His words cut me like a sharp knife.
I took a deep breath. “Protects and serves, huh?”
“Plain and simple, you violated. You called my house, remember?” He looked me dead in the face, makin’ sure he watched the pupils in my eyes closely.
“I did not!”
“Co-Co, it would probably be in your best interest not to lie.”
“Lie? What do you mean? Now you callin’ me a liar?”
His face turned more serious than before. Tony stood above me scarin’ me a bit. He wasn’t the violent type, but then again there was a lot about him that I didn’t know.
“I’ll ask you one more time. Did you call my house and tell my wife to have me call my second home?”
The room fell silent while I sat contemplatin’. I didn’t owe Tony shit from where I sat. He had little respect for me, and vice-versa. “No, I didn’t,” I finally said.
Tony leaned back down into my face and gritted his teeth. “You’re a fuckin’ liar! What if I told you the house is bugged? And I hear all your conversations!”
Suddenly, I began to wail like a sick baby. On and on I cried. I had no intentions of stoppin’, no matter how long Tony stayed. I cried because I was livin’ like a prisoner. I cried because Tony had tricked me, and lastly I cried because he’d caught me in a dead lie.
“Truth hurts, huh Co-Co,” Tony said with his back turned away from me.
I kept sobbin’, minute after minute. I rolled ova on the bed, then rocked back and forth like I’d lost a child. For the most part, Tony ignored me. He unzipped his back pack and headed ova by the safe. For a minute, I toned my cryin’ down, and sniffled to semi-focus on what he was doin’ by the safe. I hoped like hell our mini-spat wouldn’t make him wanna take my cut of the money.
Once I saw him kneel to work the combination, my mind started playin’ tricks on me. Instantly, I stopped gropin’, rose from the bed, and rushed in Tony’s direction. He saw me comin’, but neva flinched.
We’d talked many times about how he wanted me to keep the money separated inside the safe. His money in one stack, along with the daily tally sheets showin’ how much was made, minus his cut, mine, and money needed to run the house. Then my money was officially mine once he approved it. After that, I could do what I pleased with my share.
When the safe opened, Tony reached in quickly and pulled out all the money and the paperwork. I watched him closely as he examined my figures. He was quiet for the most part, besides utterin’ a few “umm mmms, and ummms.”
Within minutes, he’d gotten up, handed me my stack and put his money into the backpack. “You did good this week,” he complimented. “Next week I’m hoping we’ll make more.”
“Did you bail Angel out of jail?” I quickly asked.
“Look, we’re dealing with this business for now.”
“I need to know Tony. You’re makin’ me look like a fool.”
“A fool you are not…” He started shakin’ his head up and down, but stopped talkin’ abruptly.
“What?” I asked. I wanted to know what was on the tip of his tongue.
“There’s a situation,” he said, zippin’ the side of the backpack with the money. “You may need this,” he continued while zippin’ another compartment.
My eyes opened wide tryna see what he was talkin’ about. It had to be somethin’ important by the way his eyes showed uncertainty. I kept leanin’ from side to side tryna see what he was pullin’ from the bag. Finally, when it came out, I jumped back.
“A gun! What the hell do I need a gun for?” For a second, I thought the gun mighta been meant to be used on me, not for me.
“It’s fucking complicated, but keep it…just in case you ever need it.”
“Why Tony?” I moved close up on him lettin’ him know I needed answers.
“The boss of bosses informed me that one of the enforcers in the family might be coming around soon to collect their cut.”
“Their cut? I thought you owned this place?”
“I do, but like I said it’s complicated. It’s how organized families work. I’m gonna go in and meet with the boss to let them know my place is off limits, but until then I want you to be prepared if somebody comes by.”
“You gotta be kiddin’ me!” I shouted.
“Listen Co-Co, if they show up, just pay the percentage. Don’t give them any hassle. You should be fine. The gun is just in case something ever got outta hand.”
I swallowed hard when he placed the cold piece of metal into the palm of my hand. It was a silver chromed 9mm, I assumed. I just tried to remain calm so my demeanor would match Tony’s.
“I gotta run,” he said, kissin’ me on the cheek. “Get some cocoa butter for those bruises.”
“When you comin’…”
Just like that, Tony strutted toward the door while I talked to his back-side. I wanted to scream, but just sulked instead watchin’ him from the doorway. He jumped into the passenger seat of a black Cadillac that another guy was drivin’. I tried to get a glimpse before they pulled off to make sure it wasn’t that fucker Gino, but the car moved too quickly.
I had plans on tryna walk around a bit, workin’ on gettin’ my motivation back, but duty called. As soon as the phone rang, I offered up a quick sigh. I wasn’t in the mood for talkin’, but there was money to be made. When I answered, my eyes damn near popped outta my head. The voice on the otha end started talkin’ just about the same time that I jetted to the window.
“Outside?” I questioned.
“That’s what I said,” the voice responded.
“Oh, no. Stay there. I’m comin’ out!”
Click.
As fast as my body would allow, I rumbled through my bedroom closet to locate the flattest slip-ons I could find. Heels were outta the question. Even though I’d only gotten a beat down, it felt like I was recoverin’ from a hysterectomy.
I was outta my private quarters within minutes, and easin’ out the front door. Mike’s car was front and center which sent me into cardiac arrest.
Slowly, I checked my surroundin’s like a wide-eyed teenager on the sneak tip, and took one step at a time. I crept toward his car,
opened the door, and plopped down into the seat. I didn’t give him a chance to say shit. “This is soooooo bad Mike,” I announced.
“What’s so bad? And who did that shit to your eye?”
My first thought, at least he cared. Secondly, I’d neva heard him curse before, so maybe that was a sign of his anger. “I’ll explain the eye later. But know that the house is bugged.”
I looked ova to my right checkin’ out the house that I once had high hopes for. It was close to noon, so things would be jumpin’ off soon-I hoped.
“Look, I had a long talk with my police buddy. He already said Tony is using you. He needs somebody outside his family to run the spot. That way if the place gets busted, you’ll go down, not Tony. Think about Betty,” he said with stress in his voice, “if she get’s convicted, she won’t see the streets for a long time.”
“Oh, hell no. I’m neva going back to jail! That chapter of my life is done.”
“So you think?” he added with sarcasm.
“Just give me another week, Mike. I made good money this week, so after next week I’ll have enough to let it all go. I can go back to Pittsburgh, get Carlton, then come back to hook up with you.”
“Why not just leave with me now?” His eyes pleaded. “I’ll take you to get your son tonight.”
I sat for minutes contemplatin’ his suggestion. Every what if and possibility bounced around in my head. Then I glanced ova at Mike. His face was so serious. It hurt me to tell him, no. But I had to earn some more quick money. Once I took custody of Carlton, jobs would become harder to get; especially good payin’ jobs for somebody with a record. “I can’t, Mike. I gotta follow through. I gotta make this money first.”
I gazed ova at Mike momentarily. I knew I wasn’t in love with him. He was sweet, the kinda man who would take good care of me both mentally and financially. I pictured him as the type of mate who’d rub my feet when I said I was tired, and help with Carlton’s homework when he needed it.
But he wasn’t the solution to my problem at the moment. In my heart, it was clear. All of a sudden, I swung my left arm ova, around his neck and placed my lips gently ova his. “Look, I gotta get back inside. If you need to talk to me, call inside on the office phone. When I pick up, say nothin’. Hang up, and do the same thing again. I’ll know it’s you and go call you from a payphone.”
“That’s a lot Co-Co. Why not just come with me now? You don’t have to go back in there.”
“I do Mike. I’ll make you understand later. But for now, I do.”
“Suit yourself.” He turned away from me like I’d lost him for good.
“Mike, can I use your cell? I’ll make it quick,” I begged. “You know I can’t talk in there.”
He neva looked me in the eye, just handed me the phone. I didn’t have time to argue, I needed to talk to Dre.
I dialed, then waited. As usual, nobody picked up until the very last ring. Luckily, it was Dre.
“Dre!” I shouted as if there was some joy in hearin’ his voice.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah… That’s it. I been callin’ you about Carlton. Lolita said you needed to talk to me about somethin’…so talk.” He said nothin’, but my senses told me somethin’ was wrong. “Dre, where is Carlton?”
“He’s gone,” he finally said.
“Gone with who?”
“Your mother.”
“My mother! You idiot!” I screamed to the top of my lungs. It really didn’t matter that my jaw bones hurt like hell with each movement inside my mouth.
“My mother has neva even met him!”
“True dat. But the guy she was with had. Besides, I couldn’t keep him any…”
I hit end, because it was the perfect fit to the ending of my life. What point was there in livin’ anymore? My son was probably dead.
Chapter 18
My left hand held the phone firmly to my ear while my right tapped the desk with my broken fingernail. It was slightly painful, but took a backseat to all my otha problems. Frustrated. Nervous. Delusional. Terrified. All the words that came to mind when I thought about the way I was feelin’. I contemplated flippin’ my damn desk ova while I waited for some lame-ass officer to come back on the line with another bold-face lie. But then I looked down at my white lines, my lines of hope, the lines that would keep me sane; and decided not to go emotionally crazy. Flippin’ the desk, would only cause me to lose my coke in the process. Instead, I lowered my head closer toward the desk, scooped up some of the kick-ass drugs Cinnamon had gotten for me, and snorted like there was no tomorrow.
Yes, I’d reverted back to the old Chantel, the Chantel who leaned on drugs for support. It was wild how I just didn’t care about nothin’ anymore. I sat in my office, snortin’ right in front of the window with the drapes wide open. It didn’t matter to me who saw me. I leaned back and exhaled like my problems had been solved. My mind was already at the crazy house and surely my body would check itself in by night fall. My life had become a fuckin’ whirlwind of trouble ova the last three days. Each day seemed to move in slow motion. Between Gino ridin’ by the brothel, Dre not answerin’ my calls, me whisperin’ at times to keep Tony and his crew from hearin’ things I didn’t want them to hear, and the Pittsburgh Police Department treatin’ me like shit; I considered grabbin’ the gun Tony had given me, and endin’ it all.
With a total of six hours of sleep combined from all three days, my puffy eyes showed the sleep deprivation, in addition to the fact that I’d barely even eaten. Well, I guess if you call the quarter ounce of coke that I’d been snortin’ up my nose some sorta nutrition, then I guess I had been eatin’ good.
Suddenly a voice came back on the line. I heard him sayin’, “Miss, Miss, Miss,” but my high was feelin’ so good, I didn’t really wanna answer.
I had been on the line with the Pittsburgh Police Department for almost thirty minutes checkin’ on the missin’ persons report that I’d filed about Carlton. They were treatin’ me like a piece of trash, like I wasn’t even his biological mother. One officer had a nerve to ask me if I was the mother, why didn’t I know the answers to all the questions she was askin’ me. Then another male officer asked why I wasn’t back in Pittsburgh by now if I was so concerned.
I stopped for a moment to ask myself the same question. What kinda mother was I? My son had been kidnapped by my own mother and here I was still at the brothel. I should’a jetted three days ago when Dre told me he’d been picked up by her triflin’-ass. Her track record spoke for itself. She was deceitful, heartless, and would probably sell Carlton if the money was right. Nonetheless, allow Bo to kill him if he got a hold of’em. The crazy thing was that I had to be back in Pittsburgh within the next four days anyway. The forty-five day mark was approachin’ where I would have to go back before the judge to gain full custody. Now, what sense was there in going back? I didn’t have a son to gain custody of.
I broke down into tears sobbin’ while the words of some young soundin’ officer yellin’ into the phone rang into my ears. “Do you hear me, Miss?”
I said nothin’.
“Hello. Hello,” he repeated.
“I want my son!” I shouted back. “Tell me somethin’! Where’ve you looked,” I cried in between words.
“Miss. You have to give us more information. What was he wearing when you last saw him?”
I just dropped my head onto the desk. I was fightin’ a losin’ battle. “I told you before…”
“Hold please,” the officer interrupted.
Once again, I had been put on hold. I clenched my jaw tryna fight my crazed feelings. One thing after another was pissin’ me off. Then came a knock on my office door. “What is it?” I snapped.
“Uhhh…, I think you need to come to the door,” Cinnamon chimed.
I sat the phone down hopin’ no one would come back on the line while I ran to the door to see what Cinnamon felt was so important. She’d been actin’ different all mornin’, even a little distant; maybe because I told her she
couldn’t borrow my damn pearls. Still, she picked up my drugs last night and helped me count up the profits before going to bed; all with a slight attitude, of course. A part of me was afraid, ’cause I didn’t know what to expect from her, or Tony for that matter. I had been alternatin’ the tone of my voice for days wonderin’ when Tony was listenin’. The fact that the spot was tapped still hadn’t hit me the way it should’ve. It was like livin’ in straight bondage. The slave Madam without the shackles, I told myself.
“I hope this is important!” I shouted as the door swung open.
My mouth dropped, then I closed the door just a little allowin’ only a small portion of my face to be seen. I knew I’d hit a nerve but the bitch didn’t deserve to frolic around in my office. She wore an expensive lookin’ pair of tan, linen shorts with a v-neck see through shirt. She knew I loved jewelry so I bet she went out of her way to show up with the three layers of Chanel necklaces draped about her neck.
I kept eyein’ Sasha before I even spoke. I needed a minute to compare apples to apples. Her shit was cute but I had on a pricey, green, satin, form fittin’ mini-dress, no panties underneath. My face had been loaded with tons of make-up earlier in the mornin’ before indulgin’ into my drug session, so I hoped like hell it still looked flawless, and that the foundation still hid my fadin’ bruises. It was important for me to hit Sasha with the false impression that everything was good with me. She stood at the door with an attitude, then decided to clear her throat.
“Uhh…You gon’ let me in or what?”
“I might.” I hunched my shoulders and hit her with a snarl.
She frowned but I didn’t give a fuck. I studied Sasha’s outward appearance one more time which could be summed up in two words, dime piece. Life must’ve been treatin’ her lovely ’cause she still looked like she was bred from money, especially by the diamond bracelet she rocked on her arm. It sparkled, it shone, and made the whole damn office light up. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said about her attitude. She was still nasty, standoffish, and still rocked the best wig money could buy.