“Free and clear—all night. Into the morning, if you can handle that.”
“Oh, I can handle it.” She allowed her eyes to roam to the area that shielded his manhood, then back up into his eyes. “I wanna handle it.”
Dex stayed in place for a few seconds, smiling down at Rochelle, in admiration. “I like your style,” he complimented. “You got heart and ain’t afraid to show that shit. I think that’s sexy. I’ll tell you what. Let’s call this a first date. We have a little dinner, get to know each other a little better and then maybe we see what tomorrow night has in the cards.”
Rochelle poked out her bottom lip, and batted her mink lashes at him. “Am I being raincheck’d?” she queried, disappointed. “Because that kinda hurts a little.”
“You should be more hurt if a man wants to fuck you, only, and ain’t interested in knowing you . . . the person.”
“I guess you’re right.” She smiled. “You are fine as hell. I should be honored that you want to get to know me.”
“Yeah, see. Two fine muthafuckas can make some amazing magic together. For all we know, this could all lead somewhere beyond me puttin’ my dick in you.”
Rochelle tossed her head back in laughter. “And he has a way with words, too,” she chuckled.
When Dex began guffawing, Rochelle knew she had him where she needed him, where they needed him. She couldn’t lie, though, he was sexy as hell. She wouldn’t have minded taking him for a ride—fuck dinner.
“So, how about you tell me your name, beautiful. And then we go from there.”
Chapter 49
Jakoby Wilder
California State Prison, Solano
Vacaville, CA
“Well, look what we got here,” the larger of the three guys said, looking at 19-year-old Jakoby Wilder. Fear was all over the young man’s heart, and the menaces had sniffed it out from the time he had entered the facility. Jakoby had been there for almost a year now, on a charge that, at the time, he thought he would beat. He didn’t belong there at all. But he knew that he was there because of his own ways. His unwillingness to listen had all led him to the place he had called home for way too long now.
Like most teenagers, Jakoby thought that he didn’t need to listen to anyone. Especially, not when it came to friends he had chosen for himself. He had already placed trust in those individuals, and felt that it was a trust that was correctly placed. He didn’t need warnings. As a result, nobody could tell him anything—about them, or anything else, for that matter. However, what Jakoby hadn’t counted on, was that he’d be in jail, convicted of a murder that he didn’t commit.
Aside from being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and trying to be that ‘ride or die’ homie that refused to leave the scene of the crime, he was innocent. He had no reason to want DeMarcus dead. He’d always been cool with DeMarcus. Always. So, Jakoby didn’t even know why there was a feud between his boys and DeMarcus.
At the very moment that DeMarcus’ body hit the ground and blood began to pour from him, Jakoby felt sick to his stomach. He didn’t understand why Blake couldn’t just square up against DeMarcus, instead of taking his life. That shit was cruel and unnecessary and the more time that Jakoby sat behind prison walls, the more he hated all of them and what they stood for.
What came to mind when Jakoby witnessed the murder was how black people were always preaching about ‘Black Lives Matter’, when, in fact, it was a total contradiction. He found himself thinking about DeMarcus’ mother and how she would go on without her son. He had spent many nights at DeMarcus’ house, when they were growing up, and they had been friends until about a year and a half ago. But Jakoby couldn’t believe that anybody thought he’d want to hurt a person he was so close to. Watching DeMarcus’ family in the courtroom was an eye-opener. The hate and the fury in their eyes, their cries of horror, all tore at his heart. He wasn’t that person, and had never been that person. And now, there he was, at the mercy of stone-cold killers in prison who were set to take his life, at any moment.
Jakoby gave the men blank stares. They’d been fucking with him, since he got in. Their treatment of him worsened when they found out that he was the younger brother of Ace “Hit Man” Wilder. And now, it seemed that since that reveal, they had something to prove. But even with his fear being at the level that it was, Jakoby had decided that he wasn’t going to let them push him around anymore.
“What? You deaf now, son?” the guy asked him.
Jakoby bucked his chest forward, standing as erect as his confidence would allow. Staring eye to eye with the obvious leader, Jakoby snapped back with, “I ain’t ya son.”
“Ohhh hooo! The boy don’ went and grew some cajones!”
“My balls always been intact,” Jakoby said, with a slight smirk.
When the bigger of the guys progressed forward, Jakoby braced himself for a fight. Today, was going to be the last day that they punked him. Fuck the dumb shit. He wasn’t going to be in jail for the rest of his life scared. Fuck that!
“Fall back, muthafucka . . .” Jakoby heard, suddenly, coming from directly behind him.
Jakoby didn’t immediately look back. He kept his eyes on the dudes in front of him. For all he knew, that could’ve just been some kind of distraction to catch him off guard. But as he watched all three men retreat, Jakoby knew that something out of the norm had happened. He was grateful as fuck, but what . . . or better yet, who, was it?
“What’s up, little blood?”
Jakoby turned around, slowly, and came face to face with a familiar face—Faison, known lieutenant from the Black Guerrilla Family.
CHAPTER 50
Ace
Ace paced, frantically, across the floor in his kitchen. Pang after pang afflicted his chest, while he tried to steady his breathing. Shit had gone too far. Yeah, he wanted the fight. He wanted the title. It all boiled down to something way bigger than the ring. But it wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He closed his eyes and bobbed his head, trying to reel in his thoughts. He needed to bring himself to some sort of calm state because he was prone to panic attacks, and that was the last thing he needed right now. No, right now, he needed to think—strategize. Was there a way out? If not, what would the consequences be?
Pops, I swear I meant to do better than this. I did, Pops, he expressed, sorrowfully, to his father’s spirit. I’m better than this, Pops.
The slamming of his front door shook Ace from his moment. He began a quickened trek toward the front of his home to find an angry Dex, walking in his direction.
“Any reason that you been blowin’ up my muthafuckin’ phone like you don’t have no goddamn sense?!” he shouted.
Ace wanted to lay him out. Like, lay him out flat, but he knew that he couldn’t. He had never wanted to put his hands on a man so badly—inside the ring or out—as he did this person. This disrespectful motherfucker that he’d been stuck with, since somewhere near the middle of his career, when he’d lost his father. A part of it was because Dexter was a friend of his father’s. Because of that, Ace felt that he needed to honor that by showing respect. But the other part was that now, with this new situation, they were literally joined at the hip. If anything happened, there’s no telling what Dex’s crooked-ass would go and tell the police. Or, anybody else who had been sniffing around in search of his connection to Dario’s missing fiancée.
“I didn’t blow ya phone up. That’s shit women do. I ain’t them. I called and told you that we needed to talk.”
Dex looked at him with a daggered stare, took his fedora off his head and stepped forward, placing them eye to eye.
“Not gonna be too many more times I tell you. Check ya tone, son.”
Ace’s temples throbbed, and the devil on his left shoulder was egging him along to land the punch. His chest heaved, lightly, while he did an internal countdown. Think of the big picture, he told himself. But even with that mild coaxing, Ace couldn’t help but feel like a punk under this man’s massive ego. That, alone, bred conte
mpt, that at this point, was undoable.
Ace squinted his eyes, focused, and then spoke. “Don’t son me, man.”
“Don’t son you? Then stop acting like a little boy,” Dex spat, cockily.
“The fuck you mean, acting like a little boy?”
“You know just what I mean. You out here bitchin’ out on this bullshit. What’s done is done. Now, all we gotta do is get that prize and shit can be back to normal . . . but 10 times better.”
Ace laughed out loud and then combatively folded his arms over his chest. “Ten times better? Dude, what damn day you livin’ in? You and my pops’ day? When crimes could slide the fuck under the radar? Is that where you at? Because if it is, you need to slide yo’ old-ass into the present. Shit is way more advanced now. Shit is all fucked up.”
“Wait. You had parts in this shit too! You forget Shane Michaels already? Didn’t you threaten Cody to do something more permanent?! More permanent than setting his ass up on rape charges! That was you! I sat there quietly and heard you threaten that man!”
“It’s beyond that! You got us in some shit that’s probably gonna—”
“Gon’ what? Land yo’ ass in jail with ya dumb-ass brother?” Dex laughed.
Ace saw red. He dropped his arms from their resting place and instinctively clenched his fists. Any mention of his little brother was unappreciated.
“What? You gon’ hit me?” Dex taunted. “Then what?”
Ace turned his back on him and began walking in the other direction. He needed to put space between them before he blacked out, then reached out.
“You out here worried about the wrong shit. It’s all under control! You really think those muthafuckas ain’t already figured out how to get the police off the trail? Huh?”
“They wouldn’t even have to do that, if you wouldn’t have had that girl snatched up in broad damn daylight! This shit was supposed to be handled in another way! Not taking a whole muthafuckin’ person! I ain’t tryin’ to lose everything I worked my ass off for!”
Dex’s face produced a frown. “I see these muthafuckas been runnin’ their mouths to you, huh?”
“It don’t matter how I found out. I didn’t sign on for that shit. You didn’t need to—”
“I got shit to do and a damn fight to plan,” Dex said, dismissing anything Ace was about to say. “I ain’t come over here for this shit. Focus more on training, and less on bitchin’.”
“Man, I swear . . .” Ace started.
“You swear what?” he posed, walking past Ace and putting his fedora back on his head, as he prepared his exit. “If you think about it, this shit is all on you. All on you.”
“How the fuck you figure that?!” Ace yelled after him.
“It was up to you to snatch your brother’s lil’ raggedy-ass up! You started from the bottom and was tryin’ to be here!” he hollered, demonstrating by raising his arm inches over his six-foot-four frame. “Here! And let that fool drag you down! Everything I’ve done was to help you . . . help him! You got me fucked up right now, actin’ ungrateful as fuck! This shit wouldn’t even be an issue if it wasn’t for his dumb-ass! You should’ve kept a tighter rein on that fool and he wouldn’t have been out here thinking that he had to be hangin’ with thugs to be down. Now, his dumb-ass is locked the fuck up!”
“Check ya’self!” Ace yelled, having gotten tired of hearing Dex disrespect his brother. “Check ya’self when you talking about my brother!”
Both men quieted for a few minutes.
“Let me say this, and then I’m out,” Dex said. “You out here beggin’ for fights from muthafuckas that have zero respect for your ass. Just to get protection money for that boy. You can’t even enjoy your wealth because your money goin’ to bodyguards behind bars! I coulda left both of y’all for dead! But because of my respect for your father, and a promise I made to him . . .” He outstretched his arms. “I’m here doing bullshit. Unethical bullshit. To help y’all.”
There was so much that Ace wanted to say, and do to Dex. But he needed him. At the end of the day, Dex was the one that got him the fight with Caivano. The fight that he desperately needed. He could make a lump sum payment for Jakoby, as soon as he got that money. A down payment for Jakoby’s protection had already been deposited, but Ace needed the rest . . . and soon.
So, for now, he had to suck up some shit—up until he didn’t. And when he no longer did, he had plans for Dex. And they were plans that he would surely have to ask his father’s forgiveness for . . .
CHAPTER 51
Dario
I had already decided that once the song died out, I was turning the music off and just pounding the punching bag without the rhythm of noise. Gave it more meaning. Gave me a chance to imagine hearing my opponent in distress, as he took these blows—without the crowd’s jeers. I could both hear and feel the hurt I was inflicting. I drilled, without taking breaks and without breaking speed. I wanted more than anything to feel the exhaust.
While I was jabbing the bag, I thought I heard what sounded like my phone ringing out. I looked up at the large, digital clock mounted on the wall, just to confirm the time. It was close to one in the morning. For someone to be calling at that hour, it had to be important. My first mind went to Chanel. I hurriedly pulled my cell from the pocket of my gym shorts, the whole time, thinking the worst.
My heart pounded so hard, I thought I would lose my breath. I was exasperated anyway, so catching my breath was already in progress with slight effort. Without checking the caller ID, I answered the phone.
“Hello . . . hello?” I said twice, trying to hurry the response of whoever was on the other line.
“Hey, Dario.”
I sat for a few seconds, trying to regulate my breath.
“Rai?” I asked, wondering why he was calling at this hour.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“You okay?!” I asked, scared to fucking death, but trying to keep the edge from my voice.
“You busy?” he queried, without answering the question.
“Not at all.”
“You sound out of breath,” he said.
“Yeah, kinda am. Was exerting some energy.”
“You at Wicked, huh?”
I paused, before answering. My goal was to sound as close to norm as I could, but him deducing that I was at Wicked, said that he knew I wasn’t okay. That I was far from okay.
“I am at Wicked. How’d you know?”
“Same way I knew you’d be up at one in the morning. Because I kinda know you.”
“I guess you do.” I managed to chuckle at his insight. He was such a mature kid, which all had to do with having such an amazing mother. I pocketed my cell and activated my Bluetooth, and then began pacing the studio. I was going to be on the phone, as long as Rai needed to talk. “I’m glad you do know me.” I wanted to say, “Then, that way I know you trust me when I say that your mom is coming back to us soon . . .” But I left that part out, in hopes that he trusted that to be the truth, without me saying it.
“Dario . . .” he said, after a few minutes of small talk.
Oh shit. I panicked. I was on edge, wondering what he might want to ask.
“I’m here.”
“Can you come and get me?” he asked.
“Uhh . . .” I perked up at that moment. “What’s goin’ on at your grandma’s?”
“Nothing. It’s cool.”
“You and Freddie been fighting? Seeing too much of each other?” I asked, joking around.
“Nah, me and Freddie are cool.”
“Okay. And I don’t even know why I’m asking what the situation is. Because whatever you need from me, you got it. I really just wanted to make sure that it wasn’t anything bad going on, I guess.”
“It’s okay. I get it. Everything’s good. I mean, as good as it can be, I guess.” Rai grew quiet on me and I didn’t know if he was crying or just waiting for me to say something. Whatever the case, I wanted to follow his lead, as much as possible. “I just wanna
feel . . . close to my mom,” he finally said. “Since I can’t be at home by myself, I figure the next best thing is there with you and Lennox.”
There was a momentary silence on my end. I was honored that he wanted to be where I was, but worried that he’d bear witness to the many ups and downs I was experiencing. The past few days had seen some very different sides of me, even at times breaking down. I wasn’t as strong and put together as he may have needed me to be. But, I would have to be. And it might be a good thing, too.
“If you don’t want—”
“No, no, no,” I blurted, apologetically, not realizing how long I’d gone mute. “It’s as good as done. I’ll be there to get you in a few hours. I’d come now, but I don’t want to disrupt anybody’s sleep.”
“Okay.” I heard his tone lose tension, which brought me relief. The more I thought about it, the more I warmed to the idea of Rai being with me during this time.
“So, get you some rest and I’ll be there to take you to school. Is that cool?”
“Yep. I’ll be ready. And, Dario . . .”
“Uh-huh.”
“My mom will be back soon, right?”
“Absolutely, little man,” I said, without hesitation. “Real soon.”
CHAPTER 52
East American Steakhouse
Long Beach, CA
Lionel “Moose” Williams sat across from his son’s mother at his favorite eating spot. He was on top of the world. He had been trying to win Sasha back for the past year, but she wasn’t having it. After the birth of their son, she was all about living a life that wasn’t filled with him going back and forth to jail. And he had been working hard to prove to her that he was done with that life. That’s what tonight was about. He wanted to put his money where his mouth was and let her see that he could be trusted. Their date tonight was his way of wooing her, and he hoped that it was setting the stage for many more just like it.
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