I stared at this idiot for I don’t know how long. He had a lot of nerve. A lot of fucking nerve. Not to mention, courage.
“Did you seriously ride up on me at fuckin’ dusk, asking me where the fuck this man is? You got a lot of fuckin’ nerve, dude. I’m doing every fuckin’ thing I need to do, to get the fuck in the ring with you . . . and then deal with you the right way. But you got the nerve to ask me where the motherfucker is! Are you serious?!”
“Fuck it,” Ace huffed to himself, turning to go back to his idling vehicle.
“Yeah, that’s what I say . . .” I told him, as I prepared to complete my run.
But just as I was set to take off, Ace called out, “This ain’t how I wanted shit to be, D.C. Real talk, man. This shit was not my idea. Like I told you at the start of all this, I legit don’t know where your girl is. I wouldn’t touch a woman. That’s the highest level of disrespect. I know me and you ain’t cool. I know I’ve talked a lot of shit about you—and vice versa—but that shit is not me. I can promise you that.”
“I don’t know if I believe that. I do hope, for your sake, his sake, and anybody else who was involved, that Chanel is unscathed. That she’s still whole and not broken because there will be a prison cell with my fuckin’ name on it.”
“I get that. I’m like that about family too. That’s how all this shit got started.”
“That’s the part I’m confused about,” I admitted to him. “Because how did your shit get mixed up in mine? How did it come to be that your fight with Shane didn’t happen, and then your team set their sights on me? How the fuck did that happen? How the fuck did your shit impact my life?”
Ace shook his head. “Man, it’s complicated. Let’s just say that while you’re fighting to get back the person that you love, I’m fighting for the same reason.” His voice trailed. “True shit, man. I’m fighting for the exact fuckin’ reason.”
I didn’t want to give this person my attention for one second, but I did want to know what he was talking about. Without saying anything, I folded my arms across my chest. I guess he understood that to mean that I was listening, so he continued.
“It’s my little brother. He’s locked up on some shit that he didn’t do. Wrong place at the wrong time. He’s 19. Got mixed up with the wrong crowd. But he’s not about that life. The charge got penned on him, now there’s a target on his back. They were in there fuckin’ with him strong.” Ace closed his eyes and shook his head. I saw the emotion laying on him, and a part of me did feel sorry for his brother. “I can’t let him down. I’m working on getting him out, but in the meantime, I had to get them up off of him.”
It clicked, immediately, when he said the words, so I just went ahead and asked. “So, you’re paying for his protection?”
“Got to. I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself knowing that shit was happening to him every fuckin’ day just because of one, who his brother is, and two, because they think he did something he didn’t do. All he was guilty of was being at the wrong place, at the wrong time, with the wrong people.”
“Damn. That’s fucked up.”
“And that’s why I need to find Dex’s ass.”
“And I need to find Chanel,” I shot.
As much as I felt for his brother’s predicament, his brother wasn’t my family. I had no idea where his precious Dex was, but I was 100 percent sure that my father did.
CHAPTER 59
Chanel
It seemed that hours had turned to days and days had turned into weeks. I missed Rai. I missed my baby so much. I felt him and I knew he was going through it, which made the hurt even more prominent. He wasn’t used to being away from me, just as I wasn’t used to being away from him. My sidekick, since day one! Since the day he was born, I had never been separated from him, outside of him going to school, or spending the night somewhere. I was dying on the inside. I was sure that he was too. Our souls were connected in that way. This was all just too much to be dealing with. Locked in a damn room in God knows where. There was a television in the room, but it was all Netflix and Firestick, so nothing that gave the slightest indication of the date or the goddamn time. Shit was driving me crazy.
I sat Indian-style in the center of the large bed, dressed in one of the many outfits they had bought me. My eyes were shut tight, and I was in super deep thought. My palms were wrapped around my knees, in a firm grip. My fingertips tapped at the same rapid speed that my mind was going, against the softness of my tibia.
From across the room, I heard a light knock and then the sound of a key going into the latch. I didn’t even bother to turn around; nor, did I open my eyes to look.
“Miss Norwood . . .”
“What?” I answered, my eyes still closed.
“When are you gonna eat? You need to keep your strength up, if you want to be healthy enough to go home. I can’t keep reminding you of that. These meals are freshly prepared, and have all the essentials you need. While you’re here, you may as well be comfortable and well-fed.”
The longer she stood inside, the more time it gave for the aroma of the food she’d brought with her to fill the space. Since I’d been there, the meals had been prepared specially—three, sometimes four, times in one day. If I had to admit anything, it would be that the food was good. The cooks really knew what they were doing.
“I’m not hungry,” I snapped, knowing full damn well that I was starving.
It was just that food was the last thing on my mind. I wanted to be home with my son and my man. And my mama. She was probably crying every day that I was gone. I knew, without a doubt, that Dario was tearing up somebody’s town, looking for me. I knew it. Even knowing it didn’t make me pray for their mercy. Instead, I prayed for their demise—the most painful one he could deliver.
“You have to eat,” the woman insisted. “You need your strength.”
I turned to finally look at her. The woman’s voice was soft, but the guy standing behind her was anything but.
“When are y’all letting me go? That’s all I wanna know. Fuck some food. I want to go home to my goddamn family.”
“And you will. Soon enough. The fight is happening this coming weekend, and after that, you’ll be home.”
“And on whose word is that?” I challenged. “Because anybody who takes a person from their family, has it in them to do a lot worse. A person like that has nothing to fear or lose and damn sure ain’t afraid of the police or any other consequences. They’re heartless! So, excuse me, if I just can’t see—”
“Don’t talk about my son that way! He’s not a bad person!” Immediately after her outburst, she recoiled. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. You don’t deserve that. It’s just that . . . I know he’ll keep his word and you’ll be back with your family soon. Right?” she asked, turning to the guy behind her, who nodded his big-ass, bald head. “See. You’re going home. I just really want for you to eat.” She made her way across the room with the tray of food. “There’s brick oven chicken, roasted potatoes, and grilled asparagus. Just, please, eat.”
As much as I wanted to protest and tell this woman to go fuck herself and take her flunky with her, I thought it was time for me to begin looking at things differently. This fight was going to happen, and just that fact alone told me that the priority for Dario was bringing me home. Besides, sitting up starving myself wasn’t benefiting anybody.
My mind went to my baby, Rai. My eyes glossed over. I thought back to teasing him about whether I needed to have another baby since he was spending so much time away from me.
Mom misses you, baby.
“Miss Nor—”
“You can leave it. I’ll eat,” I finally caved. “Thank you,” I said, quietly, before lying back on the bed.
CHAPTER 60
Chanel
Hours later, I still had only touched the potatoes and a small portion of the chicken the woman had brought to me. It was tasty, but food wasn’t something that I wanted. Freedom was what I wanted. I stood near one of the win
dows in the room, looking outside. Outside to a place I didn’t know. I knew it was a nice home, judging by the room that I was locked in. It was easily the size of a one-bedroom apartment, and was complete with not just the retreat area, but a large bathroom and a walk-in closet. The bed itself was massive and sat high enough for me to use a small stool for mounting. It was comfortable as hell too, but comfort was the last thing that I was seeking in this damn place away from home.
Just outside the window of the room was a huge, green lawn that led to a nice-sized swimming pool and gazebo. Every time I thought about what type of escape route they might have, I was reminded of just how dumb that was by three mastiffs who made the large yard their home. They looked big enough to eat Pacino’s ass! I was truly a prisoner. So many times, I thought, this just can’t be my life. It can’t be. But it was.
I had never hated anybody in my life. None that I could think of, anyway. Not from childhood, or even as an adult. Of course, there had been people that I highly disliked—probably a lot—but none that I could say that I hated. But in the time that I’d been away from my family, I could honestly say that I’d grown to hate this fucking woman that had signed on to hold me hostage, as well as her fucking, faceless-ass son!
Suddenly, I raged.
“I fuckin’ hate all a’you muthafuckas!” I yelled at the top of my lungs. At the sound of my hollering, the dogs outside the window began barking like crazies, but I didn’t care. My anger didn’t allow for caring of any kind, and I roared on. “Weak as fuck! Dumb as fuck! All y’all muthafuckas! Bum-ass bitches! I fuckin’ hate your whole fucking life!”
I kicked, I screamed, I cried, and then hollered some more. The rant felt good to my soul, and as much as it was tiring me out, and bringing minor aches to my throat and chest, I didn’t care. I had been quiet for way too long. I’d voiced some shit, but I’d held in a lot, hoping that if I was docile enough, they might have some compassion and let me go the fuck home. But that never happened, so what the fuck did being quiet get me?! Not shit!
“If ya bitch-ass died today . . . right fucking now . . . I would fuckin rejoice! How dare you keep me from my baby?! How dare you do that?! I hate you! Fuck you and fuck your son! What kinda fuckin’ mother are you, anyway?! The fuck did you raise?! You wanna hear my pain, bitch?! Here it is! I’m dying on the inside, not being able to hear my baby’s voice! Not feeling his heartbeat against me as I hug him before he goes to school! Before he goes to bed at night! What kind of fucked-up bitch are you?!”
My breathing had quickened, but it felt good. My heart rate was way up, and stress felt as though it was being lifted from me and carried off somewhere. I had so much bottled! I was glad that I got to release; it felt so good. If nobody ever heard it, my soul did, and it felt amazing.
After I finished raging out, and feeling the exhaust of it all cover me like a wool blanket . . . scratches and all . . . I sank to the floor where I stood. I sank and didn’t care how hard I hit the floor when I did. I just let the weight of my frame fall in place, and there I closed my eyes. My breaths were steady, but my heart beat fast. Reminded me of drums in the distance. Only, it wasn’t so far away. I put a hand to my chest and laid it there to aide in comforting myself. Initially, I didn’t care how fast my heart was beating, or that the shit hurt, but then I thought about what would happen if I had a damn heart attack in this house. Were they rich enough to call a doctor that they had on retainer? Because they sure as fuck wouldn’t take me to a hospital and risk me telling someone there that they were my captors. They would let my ass die. I was convinced of that. And probably wouldn’t even tell Dario until after his fight. Fuck that! I applied pressure to my heart and coached myself through breathing.
In and out, I told myself.
Slowly . . . in and out.
A few minutes in, my heart rate began to regulate. I felt ready for whatever was next. I slowly stood from the floor, then headed over to the window and heard the lock on the bedroom door.
In walked the ugly-ass husky fool. We locked eyes when he came toward me.
“Here . . .” he said, extending a device to me. Boss lady said to let you make one call.”
My eyes widened, in surprise. Apparently, her dumb-ass had some type of sense about herself. Who’d have thunk that shit?! Certainly, not me. Yet here black-ass Thor was with a goddamn phone for me to make a call. God, I wish I could beat the fuck out of you, I thought, as I mean-mugged him.
“Thank you,” I told him, using extreme self-control to keep from snatching the phone from him, and kicking his big ass in the nuts.
I gave him a look. “You stayin’?”
“Yep.”
“For what?! It’s not like I can tell anybody where the fuck I am. I don’t even know wh—”
“You wanna make the call or not?” he asked, sternly, attitude all over his stupid face.
I didn’t respond, I simply rolled my eyes and began to dial, my heart beating rapidly, once again. This time, for totally different reasons.
CHAPTER 61
Mikhail
“What part of the game is this, Mikhail?! You really got me fucked all the way up!”
That was the first thing that Mikhail heard, upon entering the West Oakland apartment he shared with his son’s mother, Natasha.
Mikhail rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, not caring if she heard or saw the irritation that she was causing him. He was tired of her anyway. If it wasn’t for his son, Natasha would’ve been out on her ass a long time ago. But the love Mikhail had for his son saved her on many occasions.
“What are you talking about now?” he asked, nonchalantly.
“You’re not fuckin’ serious right now! You bum-ass muthafucka! I just know you ain’t serious! It’s 10 in the muthafuckin’ morning! I called you all night long, texted yo’ ass, and never heard from you! And now you walk the fuck up in here smelling like you just got out a fuckin’ shower!”
“Natasha, chill. I ain’t in the mood for ya mouth this early. I got shit on my mind.” Mikhail kept his calm. Nothing could disturb his mood—not even her. He’d just come from Raquel, his side chick’s house, and she had fucked and sucked him so right that his fuckin’ chakras were aligned in a way that couldn’t be disturbed. “Keep that shit down and talk wit’ ya inside voice. You’ll get a lot further. I promise you.”
Mikhail walked through to the kitchen; of course, with Natasha on his heels.
“Mikhail, what’s going on? I’m not here for the bullshit. If you want out, just be honest. You want other bitches, you can have that shit. But, what’s not gonna be tolerated is you coming up in the house that you share with me at all times of the day . . . the next fuckin’ day. I ain’t that bitch. You already know that shit!”
Mikhail was about to pour a glass of milk, when his cell phone rang in his hand.
“You really about to answer that?!” she shot. I dropped M.J. off at daycare so that I could come back here and wait for you! We need to talk, Mik—”
“What’s up, dude?” Mikhail said, into his cell, disregarding any of what Natasha was attempting to say. “No shit? Alright, I’m here. Come through.”
When he hung up, Mikhail turned to Natasha. “Babe, look. It’s not as serious as you’re making it. You got ya’self all riled up for nothing. Shit is cool. I was doing some important shit with Dante last night,” he lied. “Was kinda hard to be on the phone and all that because the environment wasn’t really cell-phone-friendly, if you know what I mean? Matter of fact, he’s about to come through, so we can discuss that shit in detail without everybody else around.”
“Why didn’t you just say that, Mikhail? You know I’m not ever gonna interfere with work. But when I don’t hear from you, I don’t know what to think. M.J. was asking for you and all that.”
“Come here,” he told her. She walked into his arms and snuggled against his chest. “It’s all good. We a family, girl. Stop flyin’ off the handle so easy. We solid.” He pulled back and looked down at her. “Feel
me?”
“I do, baby. And I’m sorry.” She stood on her tiptoes and pecked him on the cheek. “You do smell good, though.”
“Shit, I wasn’t coming home smelling like warehouse and shit. I went to the spot and took a shower before I came home to you. I was coming in to lay you down and do shit to ya, but now I got—”
“I understand. I got dibs on this . . .” she said, massaging the front of his sweats, “. . . later on. Cool?”
“Cool.”
“I’m gonna go ahead and go to work, since I know you’re good now. Since I know we’re good now. And I’ll see you later, okay?”
“Fa sho.”
Ten minutes later, when Natasha got ready to leave out the door, Dante appeared.
“I’ll see y’all later,” she said, on her way out.
“Alright, girl,” Dante said, walking inside. “What’s good, dude?” he asked Mikhail, upon entering and dapping up.
“What’s up wit’ you?” Mikhail asked.
“Shit, man. Ace called my ass yesterday, asking me if I heard from Dex. Said he ain’t talked to him in a few days. Sounded like a lil’-ass bitch. Muthafucka can’t make two moves on his own without that fool.”
“Yeah, seems like it to me.”
“The only reason I give a fuck is because that’s my mama’s brother, and she gives a fuck. If it was up to me, that ass woulda been cancelled.”
“You ruthless, D,” Mikhail commented. “So, then what? Did you end up contacting him or nah?”
“Nah. I’m probably goin’ by my granny’s house in the valley. Haven’t talked to her since all this shit popped off, and she’s had that female out there. I’ma ride out and check on her. See if that fool out there layin’ low until the fight, or some shit.”
“Wait. The fight? So, you mean Caivano’s chick?”
“Yeah, ya idol’s broad,” he laughed.
“I don’t idolize no damn body,” Mikhail snapped. “I just respect the man’s craft.”
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