Disrespectfully Yours

by Raynesha Pittman

  “Glad to be of service. And I hope this here video surveillance helps if there’s another break-in.”

  “I’m no longer feeling like it was a break-in. It’s starting to smell like an inside job. You have a good day, and don’t forget to get that recording together for me.”

  William closed and locked the door behind the clueless good ole boy and said aloud, “If Meagan wants out of this marriage, she’s free to go, but she won’t be taking a dime of mine with her plotting my murder.”

  He took his phone out of his pocket and called Tommy.

  “Meet me at your office now. I have something I need to tell you face-to-face,” he told his lawyer.

  Part Six

  Disrespectfully Ours

  Chapter Thirteen

  Devin was awakened at five thirty in the morning by J. Seed standing over him, dressed in all black, with a ski mask over his head. He had it rolled up to his forehead, so Devin could see his face.

  “Here. Put this on. Are you ready to go handle this business?” J. Seed said.

  “Hell yeah, I am,” Devin said, taking the matching clothes from him. He got dressed quickly, and they were out the door by 5:40 a.m.

  “Listen, I know you’re ready to move off your feelings. You’re mad, and that’s cool or whatever, but we moving smart,” J. Seed announced once they were seated in his car. “We can’t run up in the hotel. It’s full of cameras, and so is the parking lot. We are going to have to stalk the nigga until the right opportunity presents itself.”

  “Fuck all that. When I see him, I’m shooting.”

  “Then you need to make this a solo trip. You my brother, but I have sons that need their daddy, and after getting hired as your security, I don’t have to get my hands dirty anymore to provide for my young niggas.”

  “If you don’t ride with me, J., and I get popped, there won’t be any legit money coming in. You can’t do security if I’m doing life in jail. I’ll move on your word.”

  “Smart man.”

  They drove at a high speed until they reached the hotel, and then J. Seed circled the parking lot twice, but William’s car was gone.

  “Go by their house,” Devin demanded. “I’ll catch the nigga slipping there.”

  J. Seed threw the car in reverse and whipped out of the hotel’s parking lot backward. He wanted to tell Devin that maybe he should give it a few days to think it out, but if Devin said the shit had to be done now, he wouldn’t question him about it. He drove them straight to Meagan’s house, and he passed by as they watched William drive out of the gate.

  “Follow that bitch, but don’t let him see us.”

  “I got this, little bruh. Just sit back and ride,” J. Seed said, trying to calm down his overly excited homeboy.

  They stayed two cars behind William the entire time. The only time they couldn’t maintain that distance was when William exited the interstate. He made a left off the ramp, and J. Seed purposely missed the light.

  “You should have run that bitch. I don’t want to lose him.”

  “Hey, you need to calm down. If we’re going to do this, we got to move smart. We’re in Buckhead. We’ll catch his ass sitting at the next red light. I told you, I got this.”

  He was right; they were three cars behind William at the red light on Peachtree. When William signaled to make a right, Devin screamed, “Pull up on the nigga to the left, and I’ll pop his ass through the driver’s-side window.”

  “Yeah, and then your ass will be sitting in Fulton County Jail before sundown. They have traffic cameras all over this bitch. It’s nothing but money over here. They have to keep watch on the area. We’ll follow him until he leaves from over here, and I’ll let you know when you can get at him.”

  Devin was becoming frustrated with J. Seed’s extra show of precaution. He had already fucked up by telling Meagan on her answering machine that he was going to kill William. He didn’t have to worry about them getting caught, because she was more than likely going to snitch on him, anyway. J. Seed didn’t know it, but Devin had sent them on a mission from which they might not return with their freedom. He couldn’t tell his boy now, after hearing him mention he had to get back to take care of his sons.

  They watched as William pulled into a heavily populated business center and parked. They passed the entrance and hit the block twice before pulling into the parking lot. J. Seed parked at the far end of the lot, but they had a good view of William’s car.

  “So what do we do now?” Devin asked, feeling antsy.

  “We wait until the nigga comes out, and then we follow him to his next destination. He’ll fuck up and go somewhere where we can get his ass. These cameras won’t be able to keep saving him.”

  “It ain’t the cameras that’s saving him,” Devin mumbled.

  “You’re right, but it’s the cameras that determine our freedom. I know you don’t have kids, but you’re acting like you don’t even want the bitch anymore. If you’re not doing this shit to be with her, why are you doing it?”

  There was only one real reason he wanted to kill William now, and that reason was to bring his shit with Meagan to an end. He didn’t like how William talked to her in the kitchen like he was ruling shit, or the way she responded after treating him, Devin, like shit, and this was how he had chosen to redeem himself. Meagan was William’s little girl, and he was Meagan’s little boy, but if he killed the granddaddy in the picture, he’d always be remembered as the man. To be the man that killed William would keep him in Meagan’s mind, and that was enough for him, since he knew she’d never let him in her heart. But he couldn’t tell his boy that now.

  “I’m doing this shit to marry her and help her spend that insurance check. I thought you were in it for a piece? If I marry her, you won’t have to rob her, because when I eat, my family eats too. Let’s get full, my nigga.”

  “I like the sound of that shit right there, Diablo. Yo’ bitch about to be a widow.”

  * * *

  “Wait. Repeat all of that again,” Tommy told William as he handed his client a cup of coffee.

  “It wasn’t Clara who had me shot at. It was Meagan.”

  “And you know this to be factual because . . .”

  “Because Greg from the security-alarm company heard her with a man in my house and they were plotting to murder me. He even has a recording of the conversation.”

  “Meagan doesn’t seem dumb enough to plot a murder in your house or to be recorded doing so. Have you heard the recording?”

  “No, I haven’t, but last night I went to have a drink at the strip club, and she walked in hand in hand with some young guy. I watched them kiss and everything, and then his real girlfriend punched Meagan in her face.”

  “Meagan was in a fight at a strip club and was there with a younger man? None of this sounds believable. She’s too classy a woman to be fighting in a strip club. I can believe the younger man part, because she doesn’t look a day over thirty, but come on. We’re talking about your Georgia Peach. She worships you, and if she doesn’t, then she stays through all the beatings you give her.”

  No matter what William said, Tommy was ready with a rebuttal. He had been around Meagan for years, both on and off the clock. When Georgia Peach’s became a franchise, she and William went on a seven-day cruise to the Bahamas to celebrate. He knew Meagan, and nothing William was saying sounded like her.

  “Well, she was, Tommy, whether you believe it or not. She looked like an ex–hip-hop dancer’s side piece from the early nineties. I didn’t think she’d ever wear anything like that, but she did, and I’m guessing it was to make her little boyfriend comfortable. After the fight, she left, and I got a chance to talk to the man in the restroom. He hadn’t a clue of who I was, but he mentioned our house and called Meagan his wifey. When I questioned their marriage, he said she was in a fucked-up situation that she was working on getting out of. I’m that fucked-up situation.” William held back tears as his last words choked him up. “I think she had her little boyf
riend break into the house and steal all the records that prove my infidelity with Clara. I’m not certain, but that would make sense.”

  “Okay, William, if all of that is true, we’ll need that recording to turn over to the police. Meagan will be arrested for conspiracy, and she won’t get a dime of your money in the divorce, not like she’d have her freedom to spend it, anyway. We have records that it was your money that was used to launch her companies, which, we will say, was a part of her plot to kill you. Financially, you will be fine, but what about emotionally? You’re old, my friend. You’ll never find another Meagan. Maybe you should start seeking counseling or, in your case, God.”

  “I’ll worry about all of that when I get to Savannah. Clara was admitted to the hospital, and I need to check on her.”

  “As your lawyer, I have to advise you legally to cut ties with her. She could come up in your divorce, and if Meagan can prove infidelity on your part as her motive, it will make the battle longer. Depending on the jury selected, they might have sympathy for her, which could translate into a reduced sentence for her.”

  “At this point in my life, Tommy, I don’t give a fuck about any of that. If Meagan is smart, she’ll say that I raped her and forced her into the marriage, seeing that our relationship started long before she was eighteen.”

  Tommy’s mouth dropped at the news, but William wasn’t done spitting out surprises.

  “Oh, and before I go, there’s one more thing I think it’s time for you to know. Clara is my wife, too, and, um, Meagan’s godmother, and Meagan believes she is dead. My wife and Meagan’s mother were best friends, and I kinda slept with all three of them. Anyway, I thought Clara had died in the accident that killed Meagan’s mother, but she came back and proved she hadn’t. I do love her, and I want to make things right by her, since she’s not dead, but I love Meagan more.” He stood up.

  Tommy ran around his desk and barricaded the door, preventing William from making his great escape.

  “You need to sit your ass back down. You can’t drop a bomb on me and call it fireworks, so start talking now. You’ve played innocent for too damn long. I let you lie to me about the physical abuse you’ve been subjecting Meagan to, and now you tell me of a possible history of sexual abuse?”

  “She fucked me. She wanted this dick. So did her mother,” he snapped.

  “That might be true, but I think a jury would love to look at your rich ass as a rich, sick pervert who took advantage of a child, and since everyone who knows the two of you knows how you like beating on your wife, it makes it real easy to make the case that she’s been kidnapped all these years. Hell, you beat her with a belt at a photo shoot for posing with a male model, and then she announced her retirement at the peak of her career. You better start talking, or find yourself a new lawyer.”

  “She was my goddaughter, Tommy. I didn’t see her as anything else. Clara couldn’t have kids, and her best friend was having a baby, so we lucked up.”

  “Stop there. The best friend that you had a sexual relationship with, right?”

  “Right.”

  “When did you start fucking your wife’s best friend?’

  “I don’t know, Tommy. We all grew up together in the church choir. When we got bored, we played these little ‘touch and kiss’ games, so I’d say the first time I actually poked her was when we were fifteen.”

  “Fifteen. Are you sure Meagan isn’t your child?”

  “Tommy.”

  “Don’t Tommy me. If it’s possible, I have to ask.”

  “When Rita announced she was pregnant, I asked her about this possibility, and she said no. Meagan isn’t my child, man.”

  William said it, but for the first time in forty years, he felt like Rita could have been lying. He hadn’t seen another man in her life back then, but whenever he’d told her he couldn’t spend time with her, she had always said she’d go hang out with her other fuck. He hadn’t believed her then, either, but she had never sweated him about it. Clara and he hadn’t been together yet, and they had barely known each other outside church. She hadn’t been the barrier keeping William and Rita apart. It was William’s slutty ways that had stood in the way. He had loved pussy, and he had loved it from multiple sources. Not knowing what was real in his life anymore,

  William told Tommy everything except the part about Clara threatening him. He needed to leave, and if he told his lawyer he was being blackmailed, Tommy would never let him go.

  “Is there anything else you should be telling me, William?”

  “No. Okay, yes. I also paid my limo driver to fuck Meagan, to befriend her, and to give me updates on her. He’d make a good witness, if necessary.”

  “Angelo? You’re paying Angelo to sleep with your wife? This shit is a soap opera,” Tommy said, hitting his forehead against his desk, as if it would cut off the daytime show.

  Once William left the emergency meeting, wishing he had put it off until he made it back to town, he headed to the gas station to fill up for his ride to Savannah, and on the way to get the gas, he noticed that two men were tailing him. He pulled into the yellow gas station, and they swooped into the green gas station that sat directly across the street. With Devin’s eyes on him, they both filled up their gas tanks.

  * * *

  The ride to Savannah was spent quietly as Meagan slept off the alcohol she had consumed the night before, at Angelo’s request. She didn’t wake up until the car cut off in the parking lot of the hospital.

  “What are we doing here? And where are we?” she asked wiping the sleep out of her eyes with her hands.

  “We’re in Savannah. I’m taking you to meet my mother,” he answered as they climbed out of the car.

  “Your mother? I don’t think we are ready to be doing parent introductions. We decided only hours ago that we were going to pursue this.”

  “If I knew then what I know now, you would’ve met her,” Angelo told her as they walked through the sliding glass doors and entered the lobby. He pointed to the ladies’ room. “Now go to the restroom and wash your face. You have dried-up drool on the side of your mouth, and that shit ain’t sexy.”

  Meagan walked into the restroom but bypassed the sink to relieve her bowels. The liquor left in her system didn’t mix well with the news that in minutes she would be meeting Angelo’s mother. If they were meeting in a hospital, Meagan knew she was sick or, even worse, she had been hurt in some kind of way. The meeting would be awkward, to say the least.

  She wiped until the toilet tissue came back clean and then washed her hands and face as she looked at herself in the mirror. Her once slicked-down ponytail was now fuzzy, and she refused to meet his mother looking that way. It was bad enough that she was still wearing the immature clothing Devin had bought her, but she wouldn’t make it worse by meeting his mother while looking like something he had brought home from the club. She freed her ponytail from the holder and then washed her hair in the sink. When she cut the water off, someone handed her a stack of napkins with which to dry her face and neck.

  “Thank you.” Meagan laughed as she took the napkins, feeling slightly embarrassed. Once she had dried her face, she turned to look at the woman standing behind her. She had a psychotic smile on her face and a visitor’s tag taped on her all-black sweat suit that read LION.

  The woman was so close behind her that Meagan couldn’t make a move. “Excuse me,” she said, trying to get by her, but the woman kept her feet planted in that spot and looked unmoved by Meagan’s words. She continued to display her psychotic smile as she stared at Meagan. “I’m sorry, but I’m trying to get by you,” Meagan said, speaking louder this time.

  Finally, the lady took a step back, allowing her to pass, and Meagan left her wet curly hair as it was and exited the restroom.

  When she walked out, Angelo gave a smile at her new hairdo, and they made their way to the elevator. He grabbed her hand as they exited the elevator, and took a deep breath. The woman at the information desk informed him that his mother was on
the second floor, in room 208, and he saw that they were standing near room 206. He thought about asking Meagan to wait in the waiting room until he told his mother what was going on, but with all the lies and secrets floating around, he needed it to be a shock for them both. He and Meagan walked down the hallway and came to a stop at room 208. Angelo opened the door and was met by the sounds of the machines working to keep his mother alive and a closed curtain in front of her bed.

  Meagan came to a stop when she heard the sounds that occupied the room, but Angelo tugged at her hand and encouraged her to walk behind the curtain first. When Meagan strode past it, her heart stopped. She threw up the alcohol that remained in her stomach, and tears filled her eyes. Clara’s reaction was completely different, as she grabbed her electrolarnyx to curse Meagan out . . . until she saw her son walk in behind her.

  “Hey, Mama. I take it that the two of you already know each other,” he said, picking up a clean gown that sat next to Clara’s bed in order to wipe up the vomit.

  “Yes, we do. That’s my Georgia Peach and William’s wife. What is she doing with you, though?”

  “Well . . . ,” Angelo started, but not until he could look at Meagan’s face. She was crying, but he could still see the shock on her face through her tears. “I brought Meagan with me to see what you thought about her. I’m thinking of stealing her from that bitch William, and something is telling me that you love my idea.”

  A smile as wide as the Atlantic Ocean spread across Clara’s face. “Yes, I love that idea. You’re more like me than I thought. You have my blessings, if that’s what you came for, and I’m glad you brought her, actually. It’s time that both of you knew the truth.”

  “But . . . you’re supposed to be dead. I watched you and my mama die,” Meagan protested.

  “No, Peach, you saw your mother’s murder. Get her a chair, Junior. She’ll need to sit down for this.”