A Gangster's Girl (8 page)

Life was better than I ever thought possible. I was now four and a half months and already huge. It had been confirmed that I was having girls. I knew it! Vegas and I joined a church not far from our home. We were active members and had begun to arrange for the wedding as well as the twins' christening.

I was counting down the months as they passed. I couldn't wait until that fifth month so that I could start my shopping spree. There was so much to do in so little time. Vegas and I decided I would take leave from work during my pregnancy, so I had a lot of time on my hands to prepare for the twins' arrival. Even though I was no longer working, I was always doing things at the church, keeping everything up to par at the laundromats and constantly doing things around the house. Eventually, I had to slow down because I started to feel not so well. I figured that maybe I was pushing myself too hard. Vegas quickly noticed.

“Why don't you take a break and let me handle things for a while?” he suggested. He would get worried when I started to feel bad. That night, he cooked dinner and we ate in bed. Within a matter of minutes, we were both sound asleep.

We woke to the sound of a chaotic terror. Prissy was barking nonstop as we heard noise that sounded like the house was caving in. The huge spotlight that flashed through the bay window blinded me. I didn't know what was going on.

“You trust me, right?” Vegas turned to me and asked.

“Yes,” I responded.

“Well, I want you to listen to me and do exactly what I say. You know I would never let anyone hurt you or do anything to hurt you. I want you to lie down, close your eyes, and go back to sleep. When you wake up, everything will be okay.”

I trusted Vegas. He never let me down before, so I did just that. I had no intentions of going to sleep until I knew Vegas was safe, but I did close my eyes as he had asked me to do. I began praying to God for our safety as all the commotion went on outside my bedroom doors.

“I love you,” Vegas whispered and kissed me. Then, he walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

I could hear people coming from every direction, stomping up the stairs, slamming doors, and tossing things everywhere. After a few minutes, the house was silent. I walked in the hall and watched as Vegas walked to the foyer with his hands up. He stood still and spread his legs. The men ran toward him and Vegas laid on the ground slowly. This was it . . . the moment I had been dreading our entire relationship. They were there and taking my husband-to-be away from me. I cried silently as I helplessly watched.

“Keep your hands up! Don't move!” A dark, heavy man walked up and cuffed Vegas.

“Laymont Jackson, you have the right to remain silent . . .”

The rest of the words were a blur. I felt faint as I watched the men escort Vegas away. Vegas looked back at me.

“Catch my heart, baby. Catch my heart.” His lips motioned as a single tear rolled down his face. The men pulled him and eventually all I could see was the reflection of the letters FBI on the back of the men's jackets.

The next day, I sat by the phone and waited to hear Vegas' voice, but he never called. A day later, he called right after breakfast. He sounded worse than I had ever heard.

“What's up, baby girl?” he said in a low, dismal voice.

I couldn't respond. I just burst into tears. Vegas felt terrible.

“I'm sorry, C. I know I let you down.”

“You said you would always take care of me, Vegas,” I said forcefully. “You knew this was my worst nightmare and you didn't prevent it from happening.” His goal in life was to keep me happy and secure, and he failed.

“I never meant to let you down, Ceazia.” I could feel the hurt in Vegas' voice. “I turned my life around. I did everything you asked of me. This was out of my control, baby. I would never do anything to hurt you.”

I tried to be strong for him, but I just couldn't.

“What about our twins being without their father and me without a husband? There is no way we can do it on our own.”

Like always, Vegas had a plan.

“Baby, I need you to get it together. I need you to stand behind me. Everything will be okay. I need you to go downtown and speak with my lawyer. He'll know exactly what to do.”

Vegas was charged with conspiracy to traffic and distribute a controlled substance with Leonardo Figueroa. That was Red's real name. I knew something was up with Red from the day I met him, but I couldn't understand what the authorities had against Vegas. He had been out of the game for months, and he hadn't spoken to Red in even longer.

The next day, I headed for the attorney's office. Once again, I was in the same elevator, pressing the button for the eighth floor. I never would have imagined I would be taking that trip again. As I walked in, I gave the receptionist my name. It was like deja vu.

“My name is Ceazia Devereaux. I have a two o'clock appointment.” Right away, I was called to the back. Again, I stood at the door nervously as I avoided eye contact with the handsome, pale man before me.

“Have a seat, Ms. Devereaux,” he said invitingly. It seemed like he didn't even recognize me, or at least he acted as if he didn't. He already knew why I was there, so he basically told me the game plan and the price.

“It seems like Mr. Jackson has gotten himself in a little bind. I'm sure it won't be a problem to get a deal for two years in a program. The Feds only have a few photographs of him with another dealer in Mexico and some other places, but no real hard evidence. They didn't recover any drugs or money from the home, and all the money in his accounts traces back to a legitimate source,” the attorney explained.

“The only reason Laymont is being held is because narcotics had a big drug bust in Park Place and some of the small fish ratted on the big fish to shorten their time. With the help of those guys, they were able to build a tree of all the dealers in the area. Laymont, along with Red, Bear, and a few other guys, were at the top of the list. After they got all the small fish off the street, they forwarded the information to the Feds so they could get the big fish. You shouldn't worry, though. Laymont will be home in no time,” the attorney assured me.

The attorney sounded confident. There was no doubt in my mind things would be okay. I pulled out my checkbook.

“Sounds great. How much will all this cost me, sir?”

“Because this is a federal case, we're looking at ten thousand.”

Without any hesitation, I wrote him a check in the amount of ten thousand dollars and left.

As soon as I walked into the house, the phone rang.

“Hello,” I answered.

“Hey, baby. What's the deal?” Vegas asked after I accepted the collect call.

“Everything sounds good, baby. Your lawyer says there's no need to worry. At the most, you're looking at a couple of years in a program.”

“What?” Vegas said angrily.

“Two years, baby. What's wrong with that?”

“That just won't do, baby. I can't settle for that. Who the fuck is going to be there for you and the girls?”

“We can manage, baby. Things could be worse.”

I told Vegas about the bust they had out the way and their intentions to work out deals with the small hustlers so they could get to the big hustlers. Vegas was well aware of the tree. The Feds actually showed him the list when he was in interrogation. He went on to tell me about his experience.

“Yeah, they showed me all that shit during interrogation. They kept asking me about some guy out of Jamaica. They've been following this nigga and his family for years. They were on his ass, but that nigga got smart. The Feds are having problems tracing the money. Without an exchange in money and drugs, there's no way they can pin him. They did seize a ship once, but that led them to a dead end.”

As Vegas told me the details of what the Feds had said, my heart froze with fear.
Oh my God! They're talking about India's boyfriend, and if they find out about the money, she'll be on the list as well.
I probed to see how much Vegas knew about the Jamaican kingpin.

“So are you going to work with them, baby?”

“Hell nah, ma. I don't even know this cat. They offered me a deal if I would give him up, but I can't fuck with that. I have too much on the line to become a snitch. And like I said, I don't even know him.”

He expressed his worry about the safety of the twins and me. I told him not to worry and that he would be home soon. He felt a little better but was still upset that he would miss the growth of his twins. He would not be at their birth, and he would not witness their first steps, first tooth or first word. I cried as I thought of not having him with me to share in the milestones of our daughters' first year of life.

As the months passed, I became depressed and lonely. I turned to the one person who could offer me the support and comfort I needed without being judgmental.

“Hello,” my mother answered with her warm voice.

“Mommy, I miss you. I'm so alone and depressed,” I whined.

“Awww, baby. Why don't you come and visit me for a couple of weeks?” my mother suggested.

Since I hadn't seen her or my close friend, Chastity, in at least a year, I agreed. My mom moved to Atlanta shortly after her divorce from my father. She felt the move to a new environment was just what she needed for a new beginning. Atlanta was the place for Chastity's new beginning as well. She moved there shortly after her father's death. Hell, if it worked for them, I figured it couldn't hurt me to visit for a couple of weeks, so I happily took my mom up on her offer.

Once I received my call from Vegas and told him of my plans, I quickly packed four weeks worth of clothes, even though I only planned to stay for two. I loaded the Louis Vuitton luggage in the truck and headed for the airport. Two hours later I was in Atlanta.

My mother was at work when I arrived, so Chastity was there waiting for my flight. I was so excited to see her. We had been friends since we were tots. I could see her chatting away on her cell. Her petite frame was outfitted in a power blue business suit, stiletto pumps, with a Gucci clutch bag in hand and Gucci frames. Chastity was about business. Ever since we were young, she knew she would be an entrepreneur. She owned two businesses in the metro area: a strip club and a soul food restaurant. Both of her businesses were of the upscale caliber. She ran her strip club with strict rules. Her girls were top of the line and she took no shit. If they didn't follow her guidelines, they were out the door. Her restaurant served some of the best food in the area. It was a quiet, after work spot with a jazz band.

“Hey, Momma! I can't believe how big you've gotten,” Chastity said, hugging me tight.

“I know. It's all stomach, girl,” I said as hugged her back.

On the drive to her house, I updated her on all the drama of our friends. In no time, we were pulling up to her house in Buckhead. Her house was beautiful. I was so proud of Chastity's accomplishments. It was hard and she'd had her challenges, but she'd made it.

A few years prior to Chastity's move to Atlanta, she was in terrible condition. Her father died, leaving Chastity and her mother to survive on their own. Chastity, like most Virginia Beach girls, grew up with a silver spoon in her mouth. So, when times got hard, she didn't know how to cope with the change. She became angry with her mother and blamed her for their struggle. There were constant arguments between them. Chastity would rebel and her mother would be so hurt. She did not understand what had happened to her sweet daughter. We all tried to reach out to her, but she was just too far gone. It was like she hated the world, so she closed it off. She didn't communicate with anyone or visit anyone. Her entire outlook on the world was negative.

Then one day, she just disappeared. No one heard from her for weeks. After a month passed, she finally contacted her mother. We all were so happy and relieved to know that she was safe. The only information she shared was that she was okay and living in Atlanta. She didn't leave a phone number, address, or any means of contacting her. A year later, she returned to Virginia for a short visit. She was back to the Chastity we all knew and loved. She was confident, optimistic and quite ambitious. She told us of the different projects she was working on. She planned on purchasing a strip club from an associate of hers and she was also looking into either opening a restaurant or a catering business. Obviously, her plan worked, and now she was a successful business owner.

Until this day, we still have no idea what she was doing during those weeks we did not hear from her. In fact, we don't even know what prompted her to just pick up and leave. We suspected it was something illegal. There were even rumors of drug trafficking from Florida to Georgia, but we never had any solid confirmation. We often asked her about her absence and the different rumors, but she just replied with, “I can't tell you, because then I'd have to kill you. Let's just say that it was my secret to an expeditious success!” And we certainly couldn't argue with that, because whatever she did, it certainly worked.

After an hour or so, my mother arrived at Chastity's house. I ran toward her like a small child.

“Mommy! I missed you sooooo much!” She was so beautiful as she walked toward my embrace.

“I've missed you too, honey,” she said as she kissed me on my forehead.

I missed her bright smile and glow. My mother is the happiest person I know. No matter what hand she was dealt in life, she would pick herself up, dust herself off, and keep going. Because I had chosen to stay with my mother after the divorce, my dad decided to leave her with everything. That was a wonderful gesture, but the problem was that he left no means of maintaining them. My mother was left to foot the bill for a quarter-million dollar home, three elaborate cars, and my college education. I can remember the times after my parents' divorce when my mother barely had enough money from her nursing salary to pay our mortgage. My mom was forced to stretch her check to maintain the lifestyle that we were so accustomed to.

Luckily, she was not stuck with the responsibility of maintaining my diva status. The weekly deposits my father transferred into my savings account were enough to pay that bill. That was a good thing, too. I couldn't handle the thought of being without those things, even though my mother never even frowned.

“God will provide,” she would constantly say as she hummed the tune of
What a Friend We Have in Jesus
. I hated my father for making her suffer the way she did. She worked two jobs just so she could pay the bills and make sure I had the things I needed during college. I never went without, but I was angry that my mom had to work so hard to make sure of that. Her hard work soon came to an end, though. After I graduated from college my mother felt comfortable enough to move to Atlanta. I, on the other hand, decided I'd made my imprint on Virginia so it was here I must stay. My dad was furious at the idea, but there was no changing my decision. To sway me to change my mind, my dad eventually cut off my weekly deposits. I soon experienced the struggles my mom had once felt, but not even that could change my mind. I was in Virginia and it was here I planned to stay.

My father is the VP of marketing for one of the largest record companies in New York. While in Virginia, he held an executive position at a local record company that provided a pretty comfortable living for us. The company eventually merged with a larger company in New York and my dad was the first pick for VP. Because I was still in school, my parents did not want us to relocate right away, so my dad would often travel back and forth between Virginia and New York. This worked great until the time span between the visits began to get longer and longer. It eventually got to the point where we were only seeing him on holidays. My mom suspected foul play. And like every woman, she did her homework to find out. Needless to say, her suspicion was right. My dad was cheating with a young, southern white girl who was working as an intern with the company. He eventually left my mother for this white woman who was half his age.

For a long time, I hated my father. I blamed him for every struggle my mother and I encountered after the divorce. When I think back, he was never a dad. He was so consumed by his job that he never had time for his family.

He missed birthdays and even anniversaries. All my mother and I really had was each other, so when he left, I didn't feel alone. Actually, I saw little difference in life at home. There was a financial difference, but that's about it.

Not long after my mother arrived, we decided to head to the mall. Chastity stayed behind, saying she would give us some time alone to catch up.

“I am so excited about my first grandchild!” my mother expressed as we swung into the parking space.

Once we entered the mall, she went wild, wanting to purchase everything. I figured it was okay since I had finally reached my fifth month. She purchased everything from clothes to cribs. She even planned to turn one of her extra bedrooms into a room for the twins.

“I expect to see my grandbabies at least once a month. And when they come, they'll be comfortable in their own little room.”

I smiled at my mother's excitement. I was happy to be around someone who shared the excitement of the twins along with Vegas and me.

As the days passed, I started missing Vegas more and more. I cried myself to sleep each night, as I lay alone in my bed. My life seemed so empty without him.

One morning, I decided to take a long, hot bath to relieve some of the pain I was feeling from carrying the twins. I'd been having a lot of discomfort the few days prior. I lit the aromatherapy candles surrounding the bathtub and immersed my body in the water. After five minutes of soaking, I had a sudden urge to urinate. I struggled to lift my 165-pound body out of the tub. I took the first step out, then a watery fluid gushed onto the floor.

“Aaaaahhhhh! Mommyyyyyyyy!!!” I screamed in fear as I stood with my legs apart. She rushed into the bathroom and looked down at the floor.

“Your water has broken, baby. It's a little too early for that, but don't worry,” she said calmly as she dialed 911.

My stomach cramped so bad that I gently lowered myself to the bathroom floor and rolled on my side in a fetal position.

“Breathe, baby. Breathe,” my mother instructed.

Based on the closeness of my contractions, the 911 operator informed my mother that I was going to deliver soon. I positioned myself on my back and bent my knees. My body shook with pain as sweat rolled from my forehead. With every contraction, it felt natural for me to push. It seemed that was the only way to stop the pain. So, with each contraction I pushed. After several pushes, my first twin was out . . . but there was no cry.

“Mommy! Mommy! Why isn't she crying? Why isn't she crying?” I began to panic. “Please, give her CPR, Mommy. Please, do something to help her breathe,” I begged my mother.

It was at that moment the emergency rescue team rushed into the bathroom. They immediately grabbed the first twin, cut the cord and began to deliver the next. Once again, I pushed and the second twin was out. She came into the world with a small, broken cry. Again, the emergency technician snatched the twin away. They hurried us all to the nearest hospital as I bled continuously. When we got to the hospital, I was in terrible condition. I felt like my life was slipping away. I became really cold as everything went black and I fell into a deep sleep.

While sleeping, I dreamt some amazing things. I felt like I was in Paradise as I floated through each image. I vividly remember one particular scene. Children playing in a park surrounded me. I did not recognize any of the children by appearance, but I felt a certain connection with two of the little girls. They were so beautiful. They had caramel skin, long, curly black hair, perfect little teeth, hazel eyes and a beautiful smile to match. As soon as I walked on the playground, they approached me. I could see the little girls were trying to communicate with me, but no words came from their mouths. They pulled me by my arm to an area of the playground where flowers grew. This area was the most peaceful part of the playground. I sat down as the little girls gave me gifts of flowers, teddy bears and drawings. Then, the little girls kissed me on my cheek and pulled at my hand. I tried to get up, but I could not move. The little girls just smiled as they tugged. It was as though they didn't even realize I could not move. In a matter of seconds, the dream was over.

I opened my eyes slowly to the bright lights above my hospital bed. Beside me sat my mother. Her head rested on my leg as she rubbed my hand. She was so excited that I was awake. I could not speak and my body was very stiff. I looked around the room for my twins but they were not there. I wanted to ask where they were, but I could not find the strength for words. As the hours passed, the doctors ran a number of tests and removed many of the tubes that were attached to my body.

The next day, I felt much stronger and was able to speak. The only thing I wanted was to see my twins. Again, my mother was right beside me when I woke.

“Mom, how are my twins and where are they?” I asked.

I had a heavy feeling in my heart as I awaited the answer. By the look on her face, I knew it couldn't be good.

“I'm sorry, honey. Your twins didn't make it. I already contacted the prison so they could relay the news to Vegas. I'm so sorry, honey,” she said in a broken voice.

She explained to me that I had been in a coma for the past month. She went on to tell me the events that followed the delivery of my babies.

“After giving birth to the twins, your uterus didn't contract, so you kept bleeding. You lost so much blood that you became unconscious and eventually comatose. Once they got the babies and you to the hospital, they rushed you into surgery.

The entire time you were in a coma, your twins struggled for their little lives. They were less than two pounds each and very underdeveloped. One struggled with lung problems while the other struggled with fluid on her brain.”

I cried as my mother told me the ups and downs of their struggles. They were holding on for dear life and their mommy wasn't even there to comfort them and help them during their fight. I felt so bad. My mom said the girls fought until I came out of my coma, at which time they died simultaneously. I was crushed as I imagined my daughters' struggle. I didn't understand what I did to deserve such pain. I thought maybe that was the ultimate punishment for all the bad things Vegas and I had done. I prayed for an answer.