“I’m not operating off machismo, Papà,” I stated, angrily. “I don’t even have room for that right now.”
“Then, don’t have room for it right now . . .” he stated, firmly.
“I just didn’t want to involve you in this situation. Mama wouldn’t—”
“Antonina understands that family is the most important thing. She always has. Since the beginning, she knows that. She knows that although I left that life behind, it’s never really dead. Only in dormant—until something triggers it. Remember when you were a boy and I put you into boxing?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, I knew that you were suffering from what happened to your cousin, but I also saw signs of you going to the dark side and I didn’t want that for you. Not if I could help it. But know that the dark side is always there when we need it. And now, is such a time. You just focus on beating the dog shit out of this motherfucker and I’ll focus on getting back my future daughter-in-law. They fucked with the wrong family, son,” my father said, gripping the back of my neck and pulling me to him. He kissed me on my forehead and then looked me eye to eye. “Capisci?”
A single tear fell from my eye when I responded, “Capisco, Papà.”
CHAPTER 39
Tracie & Quinton
San Francisco, CA
“So, Tracie, I know this is upsetting, but I wanted to talk to you as soon as possible, so that everything is still clear to you.”
“It’s okay. I want to talk. Anything I can do to help, I want to do. I just want Chanel to be okay.”
“Can you just tell me once more, everything you remember? And when you’re done, I’ll present any questions that I might have.”
“We were going shopping for Chanel and Dario’s engagement party. They’re getting married and we were all coming together to celebrate the engagement. We were both late with getting something to wear, so we decided to meet up in San Francisco to get our outfits. We had both ordered our stuff online and . . . went over there to pick them up.” Tracie paused for a second. “We had fun, joking and laughing. We hung out in the food court for a little while. Looked in a few store windows, just to pass time. We wanted to leave The City before rush-hour traffic, so we left after a while. We went to the elevators together, and were together the whole time. After we hugged, I walked to my car, which was parked right near hers.”
“Did you notice anything odd inside of the mall? Like, maybe someone a little too close—either inside the store or out?”
Tracie shook her head, slowly. “No. I would’ve said that,” she responded, with frustration.”
“I’m just trying to ask all the questions.”
“But you asked me that already. My answers are not gonna change. I’m trying my best . . .”
“It’s okay, Trace. Just go slow,” Quinton urged, holding onto her hand.
“I didn’t see anything weird. Or anybody weird,” she recalled. “I just remember us laughing and joking with the salesgirl and with each other. We were just having a good time. I tried my stuff on, she tried her stuff on. That was it. Well, no, Chanel didn’t try her stuff on. Just me. After we finished all of that, we headed back out to the parking structure and chatted for a minute. We talked about hanging out for dinner with Quinton and Dario, and then we hugged.” She paused and closed her eyes, not wanting to remember the visual. “I walked away from her and to my car. She walked her way. And then, I heard her scream. I didn’t know what I was hearing, at first, but when I turned around, I saw Chanel fighting and screaming. It happened so fast. The guy grabbed her and forced her into the back of that truck and then they drove off. I ran as fast as I could. But I was too late because I was stuck at first. I couldn’t move!” she cried. “I couldn’t shake the shock! People were coming from everywhere to help me. I just remember screaming louder than I ever have. After you guys were called and were on the way . . . I called Quinton. I called Quinton, so that he could tell Dario.”
“And I know I asked you this before, but do you remember anything about the guy that grabbed Chanel?”
“Just that he was black. He was black and thin-framed. That’s all I remember. Honestly, my mind’s eye was on Chanel. I was so scared for her, that’s all I could focus on. I just didn’t know why I couldn’t move and that . . . makes me . . . feel like shit. I should’ve been able to—”
“You did what you could do, Tracie. Please, don’t be so hard on yourself. And you’re doing even more now by cooperating, and giving us any information that you have. We’re doing everything we can to bring Chanel back home.”
“Please, do. She has a son. I can’t even imagine what he’s going through right now, knowing that somebody took his mother. He’s such a sweet boy. Please, do everything you can, Detective.”
“Without a doubt. That’s a promise.”
A short time later, back inside the car, Tracie sobbed in Quinton’s passenger seat.
“Everything will work out,” he said, to her, in the middle of her cries. “Chanel will—” His cell phone ringing forced Quinton’s attention away. “Hold on, babe. Let me get this real quick,” he told Tracie.
“Hello?” he said, into his Bluetooth.
“Hey, it’s me,” Dario said, on the other end. “You busy?”
“I got Tracie with me, just leaving SFPD. Something going on?”
“Yeah, I need you to call me when you’re alone.”
“I’ll do one better. Let me drop Tracie off, and I’ll be on the way to where you are.”
CHAPTER 40
Dario
“I appreciate you coming so quickly, man,” I said, as soon as I saw Q walk in.
“Shit, you know it’s nothin’. What we got going on?” he asked. “How long those fuckin’ reporters been stalking the front of the house?”
“They’ve been out there, in the distance. Today was the first day they were bold enough to park closer.”
“The fuck they hopin’ to see? Nosy-asses.”
“Shit, I don’t know. But they’re the least of my worries. I wanted to tell you that my father is gonna be calling you sometime soon, if that’s okay? He thinks I should be training and preparing.” I paused, still getting used to the idea that I wouldn’t be heading up everything to bring Chanel home. “So, he’s taking the lead on a few things and has some ideas.”
“I think that’s a great idea, D.C. You definitely need your energy and your strength to make a clear example out this man. I think it’ll be cool workin’ with your pops.”
“I’m glad that you’ll be working together. It was hard removing myself, but I actually think it’s best this way, because I can’t even think straight unless I’m punching that bag and sparring.”
“That’s because the fight is in you. Let that be the focus.”
“Yeah . . .”
“So, was that what you wanted to talk about?”
“I talked to Detective Knight and he told me that he’d be calling Tracie back in for questioning. How’d that go?”
“Same. They’re still asking her the same questions.”
“Says they don’t have shit yet. I’m gonna call him back tomorrow and tell him that Chanel is back home.”
Quinton stood up from his seat and walked over to a nearby wall, leaning against it. “I don’t know, D.C. It’s one thing to tell them that she’s back, but another producing her. That could fuck us up.” Then suddenly, Quinton perked up. “But wait... Unless she really is—”
“Nah, man. She’s not. I wish she was. But no. Not yet. I just need them to think that she is. That way, they stop investigating. The news stops reporting. We need public attention to go away from it.”
Quinton began pacing the floor and rubbing his hands together. “I mean, you know I’m down with whatever you got in mind. We just have to make sure that whatever it is, won’t come back to bite us while we’re doing what we gotta do. Shit could set us way back.”
“I know. I wouldn’t jeopardize bringing my woman back safely, for shit. I’
ve thought it all the way out.”
“So, you’re gonna call him when?”
“Tomorrow, in the morning, first thing. Gonna tell him that she came home today . . . tonight.”
Quinton inhaled, and then released a giant sigh. “He’s going to want to talk to her, immediately. So will the media. Remember that shit that happened in Vallejo not too long ago? Denise Huskins, or some shit like that?”
“I remember.”
“No, do you really remember? Because—”
“I do remember. They thought it was a hoax.”
“Right! Sure the fuck did. And went after the boyfriend, thinking he had something to do with it, when she came back.”
“And tried to bring him up on charges for wasting police resources and all that shit. I remember all of it, Q. It won’t be anything like that—at least not for us. When I tell you I’ve thought this out, it’s all the way thought out. I just wanted to tell you because it’ll all about to be set in motion tonight.”
Quinton smiled. “Okay. I’m ready.”
“Good. Because once it’s all in motion, I need to get in the gym—hard. That’s where my focus gotta be, while shit is playing out in the background. I’m getting ready to go harder than I did for my own fights, because I plan to beat this bitch-ass so bad that it ends his career. I want the heat in my fists to be felt beyond the fucking gloves. They went through all this—to the point of snatching the woman I love off the street—oh, they need to feel my fucking wrath. Their fucking ancestors need to feel my fucking wrath. So, trust me when I tell you, that this shit is thought out and being played like a fuckin’ high-stakes chess tournament.”
Quinton walked over to me, his smile still in place, and stuck his hand out to me so that we could dap-up.
“Let’s do this shit, then.”
CHAPTER 41
Wayne / Shane
Shane Michaels rushed into the Robata Grill & Sushi. It wasn’t lost on him that he turned a few heads on his way in. The onlookers may not have even known they were looking at Shane “Pretty Boy” Michaels, one of the nation’s top boxing champions. It was looks first, and status second, that brought about admiration. Not to mention, the fact that he smelled expensive, and dressed the part as well. Tailored, blue-grey slacks with immaculate creases down the front, a crisp, white, fitted, dress shirt that showed the definition of his cuts, and black, leather, dress shoes. Shane always dressed to impress, but today especially.
He was seven minutes later than the agreed upon time. He had actually arrived at the restaurant on time, but then had to take a phone call that he had been waiting for. Now that he had the news he needed, he expected for his meeting with Wayne to be even better. Shane rounded the corner and immediately spotted Wayne seated at the table, casually scrolling through his phone. He hoped like hell that Wayne wasn’t angry for having been kept waiting. As though sensing his arrival, Wayne turned in his direction, right as he approached the table.
“I’m so sorry, Wayne. A call came through that—”
“It’s cool,” Wayne said, taking the pressure off of the moment.
Shane took the seat across from Wayne.
“Whew,” he sighed. “Thanks. I’m not one to keep people waiting. I sure as hell don’t like being kept waiting, so it’s just not something I do.”
“Well, no problem. Better late than never.”
“So,” Shane said, out of breath just a little. “I’m glad that you finally got some free time.”
“You?” Wayne sighed, and then smiled at his potential client. “I’m glad too. Don’t know how long that’ll be for, though. Shit is crazy right now. Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Try me . . . bet I would.”
“Nah, that I can’t do. It’s not just a lot, it’s private. Not really my shit to discuss. I’m indirectly involved.”
“Loyalty and a true sense of confidentiality. I salute that.”
“Glad you can appreciate it.”
“For sure. Well, I know you told me to wait until stuff settled, so I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me anyway.”
“It’s not a problem.”
“So, it didn’t hit the media yet, but all my charges were dropped. “I’m free, clear and ready.”
“Well, that’s good news. And I’m glad to hear you’re free and clear and haven’t absconded,” Wayne joked. “Because I was wondering how it was you were leaving the state.”
Shane laughed out loud. “I’m sure you don’t want to be seen with criminals!”
“Got that right,” Wayne said, laughing. “But really, though, you’re free?”
Shane rubbed his hands together and produced a healthy grin, showing a perfect mouth of teeth. “I’m free.”
“That’s good news. I need good news.”
“I’m glad it’s good news to you. Does this mean you’ll consider managing me? I hope like hell it does.”
“There’s a real good chance. Tell me what you are looking for in a manager.”
“Honestly, everything that you are. I’ve paid attention to the moves you made for D.C. I appreciate that you go hard in the paint for your client. I haven’t had that. I should be a lot further in my boxing career. I also like that you’re one-on-one with undivided attention. Not that I would even think of demanding that of you, I just know that’s how you were with Caivano. I thought that was dope. It showed for sure that you’re not in it for the money, necessarily, but because you truly believe in your client.”
“Good observation.”
“I feel like, as long as I’ve been in this, and as much as I give to it, I should’ve had more than just the two endorsements that I literally, just got. Those endorsements should’ve been two of many—yet they were my first ones. Luckily, I had money coming into this thing. Because if I didn’t, and was solely relying on my boxing career, his ass would’ve been dismissed a long-ass time ago.”
“It’s a lot more than a lot of athletes can say. Good for you.”
“Thanks, man. Always been about thinking ahead.”
“Nice. So, your endorsements . . . do you get to keep them?” Wayne asked.
“I’m still waiting to hear back on that. I’m sure if the deals stay, he’ll want his cut, since he negotiated. I just think that you could take me a lot further. I’d be honored if you would.”
“Tell me this. Where did you and Reggie leave off? Does he know that you’re seeking new representation?”
Shane swiped his brow, then shook his head, in frustration. “Reggie’s bitch-ass got ghost even before the mugshots were taken. Like a fuckin’ thief in the night. Said that with all the, ‘hashtag Me Too’ shit going on, he couldn’t be associated. Reggie has his own dirt, and felt that if those bogus charges against me stuck, he would share the spotlight. Yeah, I pay for pussy every now and then; so, I’m no angel, but the shit that he’s into . . . on a whole other level.”
“Hmm. Okay. So, what’s his position now that the charges have been dropped?”
Shane chuckled, while pulling out his cell phone. He tapped a few keys, and then reached across to hand Wayne his phone. “Take a look for yourself.”
Wayne looked at the text messages displayed on the screen. They were filled with apologies and urgent requests to speak or meet up. Asking for forgiveness and how he regretted his hasty decision. Basically, groveling. It was all there. The man had bailed on his client, at the first sign of trouble, and not looked back until the coast was clear. Wayne shook his head and laughed out loud, as he returned Shane’s phone to him.
“Looks like he realized his mistake quick as hell. That’s unfortunate.” Wayne inhaled a deep breath, and then released it with an energy he hadn’t felt in a while. “I guess his loss is my . . . no, our gain. Welcome to the team, Shane.”
“Helll naw! Serious?!” Shane expressed, excitedly. “You signin’ on, Wayne?”
“I’m signin’ on.” Wayne reached across the table, extending his hand to his newest client. “We’re going to make
big moves.”
“Oh, I already know.” Shane sat back in his chair, relief washing over him. “This is good, man. This is so good. You just don’t even know. I had so much shit taken from me in a short amount of time. This here, is what I needed to feel like I’m back on track.”
“I’m glad I could do that for you. It’ll be good for me too,” Wayne admitted.
The two men were quiet for a short while, as they finally took time to look over the menu. “I got one question,” Shane said.
“Already?” Wayne asked, jokingly. “Okay, shoot.”
After a brief moment of silence, Shane asked, “What does Caivano coming out of retirement . . . and his fiancée missing . . . have to do with the rest of this story?”
“Khhh! Khhh! Wayne coughed, from being caught off guard.
“You good?” Shane queried, reaching out to hand Wayne his glass of water on the table.
“Ahhmm . . .” Wayne patted his chest to clear his passages. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“See,” Shane continued, “. . . something don’t feel right to me about all of this. I know in my gut, that it was those crooked muthafuckas, Ace and his manager, Dex, that set me up with that bitch in my hotel room. For some reason, they wanted me out the way. They really put a plan in motion to have me locked the fuck up. To take my freedom away, my livelihood. That shit don’t sit well with me, Wayne. You fuck with my bag, it’s a real problem—the kinda problems that Ace Wilder don’t want.”
CHAPTER 42
Dario
In the Ring 2 Page 17