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Authors: Dakota Knight

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BOOK: Biker Chick
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Chapter Sixteen
Before too long I began to recognize my mistake . . .
Remember when I wrote that the trouble began with three parties? And that's so true. If I hadn't gone out on that day of the purse party, who knows if I would have ever met Ray. And if I hadn't had the biggest eighteenth birthday party in the city, who knows if we would have ended up together? Then, we made up after my graduation party. That's the funny thing about fate. Mom told me once that things have to happen in just the right order for people to meet their destiny.
So, what about my fate? Well, things had to change one day. Me and Ray were living too good, living “high off the hog” as my grandmother from Mississippi would say. But I can't lie and say I was prepared. When the walls came crashing down, I was surprised.
Things had definitely changed in the two weeks following the “Incident” as I named it in my journal. Ray did make more of an effort to stick around, but we were both more cautious during our time together. Before the “Incident,” we were both so animated and we couldn't keep our hands off of each other. After the Incident, we would just sit around and watch movies . . . or I would watch him play videogames. Before the Incident, we made sure to spend time riding together, even during the times he wasn't spending much time at home. But that definitely wasn't the case afterwards.
But the most telling thing of all was our lovemaking. After all the force during the Incident, Ray acted as if I was fragile. He was so slow. It was nice, and it felt good, but I needed more action. But I thought he was trying so hard to be there for me, so I didn't say anything to him. I just went through the motions. I still felt like there was something missing, and I wanted to get it back.
The day it all went down, it was sunny, not a cloud in the sky. It was one of those days made for the road. By the time I woke up, Ray was already gone, but he left me a short note on my nightstand saying that he would be home in time for dinner. We hadn't gone out to eat for a long time and I thought it would be a good idea if we painted the town. After I showered, I chose some long black pants and a sleeveless sleek silver top for dinner. I wanted to ride Foxy Baby wherever we went so I knew it would be the perfect outfit.
I picked up my journal to begin my morning ritual . . . writing:
I think I can make us work
.
I want to do it. These two weeks have shown me that Ray is the only man for me, that even though we're going through a rough spot right now, it'll be good in the end. I have to trust that it will. I have to trust him. So, tonight, after the dinner, the ride, and the return, I'm going to take control. I'm going to let him know how much I want him, how much I'll always want him. I wonder if it's this hard for every couple. I wonder how people stay together for decades. We haven't even made it five years. But I think we will. I really think we will . . .
I checked my little stash to see how much I had in reserve . . . just under eight hundred dollars. Not bad, but not good either. Enough to get me through the day, at least. I put in my call for an emergency facial and makeup appointment at the Art, and then I called for the person I needed almost as much as I needed Ray—Cassie. I offered her an extra hundred to come and work on me. She was the best and I had to have her. I almost jumped for joy when I heard the doorbell ring. I rushed to the door and opened it. Cassie, tanned, tall, and thin, stood there, holding her goods and staring down at me.
“Hey, Cassie, I really need you to work on me today,” I told her as I motioned for her to come inside.
“What would you like?” she asked in a perky tone.
“I need that deep tissue or muscle rub, or whatever you call it. I need to be as relaxed as possible for the rest of today 'cause tonight it's going to be on and poppin'.”
Cassie giggled as we headed for the bedroom. She began to set up her table. She was, without a doubt, the best message therapist on the planet, or, at least, the best that I had met anyway. She gave me a couple of scented candles to light up, which I did.
“I'm ready when you are,” she said once she finished her preparations. I was already in my towel and ready to go. I literally jumped on the table and let Cassie do her thing.
After getting my massage from Cassie, I was so relaxed I almost didn't hear my cell phone ring. It took all my effort to reach for my phone. Ray's cell phone number appeared in my phone's caller ID. I pressed Send to answer the call.
“Hello, sexy, when you coming home?” I asked.
“Hey, Ma, I got a couple things to take care of, and I'll be on my way.”
“Hmmm. Would you handle your business faster if I told you I had something special waiting for you at home.”
I grinned when I heard Ray groan.
“You trying to get a brotha's mind all messed up so he can't concentrate?”
“Damn straight.”
“Now you've got me interested. Can I get a hint?”
“Well, let me just say that after we go out, you can go in . . . if you get my drift.”
Ray groaned again and said, “Now you're trying to get me in trouble in front of my boyz.”
“Is it working?” I asked seductively. Our conversation felt good, and I hoped how I felt was just a preview of what was in store for us tonight.
There was a pause. For a minute, I thought the call had dropped. I said “hello” twice. “Ray, are you there?” I asked.
I waited a couple more seconds and was about to hang up when Ray replied.
“Yo, Ma, let me get back with you.” His voice sounded serious and I became concerned.
“Ray, is something wrong?” I asked, but this time, I knew I wouldn't get a reply. The dead silence let me know that Ray had ended the call.
I stared at my cell, wondering what was going on. My stomach became unsettled as the worry in my mind began to flow through me.
Girl, don't worry, Ray told you he was around his boys. Maybe they gave him a hard time and he tried to act all serious. You need to go ahead and get ready for tonight
. I tried to make myself feel better, but my stiffening shoulders made me wish that Cassie was still in my bedroom.
As soon as I dropped my cell on the bed, it started ringing again. I smiled, thinking,
I told you everything was all right
. I grabbed the phone and flipped it open.
“Hey, baby, everything okay?” I asked. “You ready for tonight?”
The response wasn't what I expected.
A deep male voice said, “You don't know me, but I know Ray.” It was a voice I didn't recognize.
“Who the fuck is this?” I asked, my voice rising in concern. I stared at my cell's display to check out the number. Nothing appeared on the screen. My heart started thumping hard as I quickly imagined all of the bad things that could have happened to Ray. “I said, who the fuck is this and what the fuck do you want?” My voice was trembling now.
“I don't have time to explain. All I have to say is you have thirty minutes, maybe less, to erase your existence from Ray's home and leave. There's money under the kitchen sink. Ride off with your motorcycle, they don't know about that. Please take this seriously. That's all.”
“What did you do to Ray!” I yelled into the phone. “What happened to Ray!” I screamed. But the caller had already ended the called.
I didn't know who the caller was, but based on his tone, I decided to take his advice. I had to leave our house. I looked around our bedroom. How could I erase the memories of three years? I could see myself everywhere, from the window curtains to the corners.
Please take this seriously
, the deep voice told me. And I did. I ran into my closet and grabbed the largest bag I could carry on my Ninja. I threw on some Apple Bottoms and one of Ray's Sean John T-shirts. The smell of his Drakkar filled my noise. I slipped my feet into some Reebok flip-flops and tried to gather what I could.
Thank God I wasn't a paper person. After our first year together, Ray made sure we kept separate P.O. boxes at separate post office branches. I didn't have a lot a documents to go through. Not that I would have had time anyway. I gathered what few papers I had, along with some pictures. I stuffed a couple of outfits in the bag. I didn't have room for shoes. Despite the hurried pace, I kept everything looking neat. I was always a neat freak, and I basically had stock in Molly Maids, so it looked clean.
I moved to the bathroom, dumping my toiletries into my bag. A mental clock was ticking in my brain.
You don't have a lot of time. You don't have a lot of time. He told you to take this seriously. How many minutes has it been? Five? Ten? Twelve? He told you that you only had thirty minutes or less. You don't have a lot of time. You're out of fucking time. Hurry up and get the fuck out of there
.
I ran to the kitchen, knelt down in front of the sink and opened the cabinets. At first, I panicked because I didn't see any money. No bag, no green, nothing. But then common sense took over. I knocked against the back on the cabinet until I felt something hollow. When the back gave way, I retrieved a medium-sized bag of cash and some papers. I took it and stuffed it into the bag. I closed the cabinets before running around the house one more time. Then, I headed for the garage.
Before getting on my Ninja, I wiped away my tears and tried to suppress my feelings of fear and hopelessness. I was leaving the place I'd called home for three years with just the clothes on my back and a bag on my steel.
You're out of fucking time.
My mind was still racing when I let up the garage and backed my motorcycle out. I jumped off and ran back into the garage to let it back down. I looked down the street before I took off, not knowing which way to go. Shadows seemed to lie in all directions. I inhaled deeply before I put on my helmet and revved up my steel. Once again, I was riding with the wind, but for the first time in recent memory, I didn't have anywhere to go.
Chapter Seventeen
And I hoped for my sake that I didn't realize it too late . . .
An almost overbearing sense of fear hit me once I turned onto the main street leading from our house. Over the sound of my engine, I could swear I heard sirens. My heart and mind were telling me that those sirens were coming for me. I was stopped at a red light and I wanted to burn. Every inch of me was saying Go! Go! Go! But something was nagging at me, something about the house.
Did I leave something behind
? I thought. Despite the urge to go back, I knew I couldn't return. I had run out of time.
Instead, I pushed forward when the light turned green, keeping my focus on the road. I thought about my options. I could stay at a motel, but the thought of staying in some rat hole didn't sit too well with me. Of course, there was absolutely no way I could go to Mom's. In the time I had been with Ray, Mom had grown closer to Gregory. Closer than I ever thought possible. She had remarried and moved to California with her new husband over a year and a half ago, instructing me not to contact her until I got my life straight. And Dymond and Lala . . . well, I hadn't been keeping in touch like I should have. Shit, none of us were. But they were still living in the Meadows, so I knew I had to return. I was Scarlett O'Hara in
Gone with the Wind
. She always had her old slave plantation in Georgia, and I always had the big modern plantation, the Greenland Meadows.
Through the grace of God, I kept my composure and made it to the Meadows. It still looked the same, but I knew places like the Meadows never really changed. It was still all brick with broken windows and broken promises and dreams. There was still hope though, running around in the form of children playing their various games in the summer sun, not really knowing just how bad life was. I wished, just for a moment, that I could be a kid again, playing in sand or running through the water spouting out of one of the jacked fire hydrants. So much for my own promises and dreams.
I parked my ride just outside of Dymond's apartment. I took off my helmet and grabbed my bag, throwing it over my shoulder as I struggled with the entrance door and began staggering up to the third floor. I was barely functional by the time Dymond answered her door. She still looked the same, pretty and petite, despite the fact she had two kids by Shadow. Unfortunately, Shadow had gotten killed last year. Word on the street was that he got assassinated by some killer named the Brown Recluse 'cause he was trying to talk to the feds. But officially, it was just another drug-related death.
Now, Dymond was back within the Meadows, living in the same building as her mother. Trapped in the life we had sworn we'd never live over alcoholic drinks in our teenage years.
“Hey, girl, what brings you out to the Meadows? Living in the 'burbs got you down?” she teased.
I couldn't hold back anymore. I broke out in tears, crying hysterically. Dymond pulled me into the apartment and closed the door. “What's wrong?” she asked.
“Something . . . Something is wrong with Ray!” I cried out.
“Shhh. The kids are taking a nap.” Dymond lowered her voice for emphasis. “Calm down and tell me what happened.” She pulled me over to the couch and forced me to sit down.
I didn't hold back. I told her about my conversation with Ray. I hold her how his voice changed and how he ended the call. Then I told her about the next phone call and the man with the deep voice telling me, “
Erase your existence from Ray's home . . . Ride off with your motorcycle. . . Please take this seriously. That's all
.”
I could barely speak when I told her about my frantic search to get out of my house. Dymond listened and nodded with understanding, as though she had heard it all before. “Could be feds or locals, or both, you never know,” she said matter-of-factly. “But based on what you've told me, I would say that law enforcement is definitely involved.”
“What could have happened? Ray is always so careful,” I asked.
“No one on the wrong side of the law is safe from the cops,” Dymond reasoned, looking at her watch. “Shit, for us, even folks on the right side of the law aren't safe,” she said sarcastically. “Look, it's almost five, we can watch the news and see if we can get some information. If something big went down, it's bound to be on one of the antenna channels, if not all of them.”
I nodded and Dymond turned on the television. It was a plasma widescreen, forty-two inches, I think. We sat down in the front of the television. My heart was still raging, and I was still breathing heavy. At that point, I don't think I'd been so scared in my life. I heard more sirens calling my name. I glanced at the door, knowing that any second, the law enforcement Dymond talked about would be rushing through the door and reading me my rights.
No one ever came to the door. Soon, the cheesy music announcing the newscast came on. “It's about time,” I mumbled. Dymond nodded in response. She had been right. The answers to some of my questions came quick, as in the lead story for the five o'clock newscast. But I was left more worried than ever.
A thin-faced, blond-haired news anchor's face filled the scene. Her nasal voice grated in my ears as she reported the news. “News at Five. The Columbus Police Department has busted one of the largest drug and crime rings in Columbus. In a sweep of Columbus's east and west sides, police made seventy-five arrests and netted record amounts of marijuana and cocaine, along with a large amount of money and a cache of weapons.”
I cringed when I saw a parade of shaded black faces of dudes being led into the back of paddy wagons and police cars.
The anchor continued, “During the sweep, there was a shootout with police at a house considered to be a stronghold of the drug ring operating on the east side.” Dymond squeezed my hand. “In the melee, several suspects were shot, although there are no reported fatalities. One police officer was also shot, but his injuries are not considered to be life-threatening. Sharon Goode, spokeswoman for the department, says that this bust will definitely impact the flow of drugs into the city: ‘Today we sent a loud message—stay out of Columbus, or we will bring you to justice.' We'll have more information at six.”
Though no one's name was mentioned, I knew that Ray was involved. Some of the faces on the television screen were definitely familiar. Based on what I had seen and heard, I knew that Ray had at the least, been arrested. If he was involved in the shootout, then he could have been shot. And I knew I was scared.
“That's him, girl, he could be shot and in the hospital.” I buried my head in my hands, crying.
Dymond put her hand on my shoulder. “Girl, don't worry. He probably just got arrested. I mean, didn't you say that deep voice dude called you right back? That doesn't sound like he was involved in a shootout. Girl, he'll be out on bond in no time. But you do have to be prepared for anything. Shadow got arrested twice, and there was some shit I had to deal with that you might have to deal with too.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“First, do you have a cell phone?”
I nodded. “Of course I do.”
Dymond reached out her hand. “Give it to me.”
I reached into my bag and gave her the cell phone.
“We have to destroy this,' Dymond said seriously.
“What are you talking about?” I tried to take the phone from her, but she raised her hand so I couldn't reach it. “Are you crazy, what if someone calls with information about Ray. What if he calls me?”
“This phone is toxic. You would be surprised how much the cops can get from this little thing.” She shook the phone in her hand. “If you need to be contacted you will be. Believe me, someone knows exactly where you are.”
Dymond rose from the couch and walked the short distance to her small kitchen. She reached inside of a drawer and pulled out a hammer. “Believe me, no one else is going to call you on this phone,” she said as she crushed my phone with the hammer. Another thing lost on a day of many losses.
After she put the pieces in a grocery bag, she returned to the couch. “Okay, we're gonna have to spread this in a couple parts of the city or find a big dumpster.” She handed the bag to me and I held it like it was my child.
Then my brain started working. I had finally figured out what had been nagging me right after I left the house.
“Oh my God!” I shouted out. “I've got to go back!” I jumped from Dymond's couch and headed for the door.
“Go back where?” Dymond asked.
“I've got to go back to our house,” I said, fumbling with my helmet. “I'm so stupid. I can't believe I forgot . . .”
Dymond rushed to me and stood in front of the door. “Are you crazy?” she asked. “The cops could be crawling all over your place by now.”
I shook my head. “No, you don't understand, I've got to go.”
Dymond grabbed my shoulder. “I don't want to slap you, but you're talking real crazy right now. You cannot go back. And I'm not going to let you go back.”
I pulled away from her and said, “Girl, in my rush to get out of there, I forgot one of the things that matter most to me—my journal!”
Dymond's eyes widened. “Oh, no!” she exclaimed. “Where did you leave it?”
“I think I left it on the bed.” I put a hand up to rub my ever-tightening chest. “Oh my God. I can't believe it.”
“Girl, I know why you want to go back, but you can't. It's too dangerous.” She looked me in the eye. “You didn't put anything . . .”
I understood her stare.
I buried my face in my hands and trembled. “I just free flow, you know. I've only been writing in it for a couple weeks, but I don't know what all I wrote in it.”
“Damn,” Dymond mumbled. “Well, girl, I don't think you would have put that much in there. Don't worry about it.”
I smacked my lips and said, “Please, Dymond. That man wouldn't have told me to erase my existence for nothing. And what's left is the most intimate part of me. I might as well have left my head there for the cops to greet them so they wouldn't have had to bust through the door.” I looked toward one of the windows and then stared down at the bag I held in my hands. “What am I gonna do?” I asked, more to myself than to Dymond.
“Look, girl, you're just gonna have to hope for the best. You ain't never done nothing wrong so they don't got nothing on you. Ray knows how the game works, just like my Shadow did.” Dymond's voice trailed off and her eyes watered. I knew that she still missed Shadow, and would always miss him.
“But everything that I have, everything that I was, is at our house. I don't have anything.”
“You got me, Crys, just remember that.”
I smiled, finding some bit of comfort in her words. “I just wish I knew how I was going to make it,” I said.
“I know how you feel. When I found about Shadow, I felt lost. I felt like dying. I thought that I was all alone. I was in my bed for days, almost wanting to join Shadow. But then I thought about the kids. I had to take care of them. They didn't ask for the life they had and I made a promise that I would make it better for them. At the time, I didn't know that Shadow made sure we'd never be totally broke. What he left for us though, I'm saving that for the kids. I'm making my own way, and I want to make sure they have the means to make their own way.”
Dymond sighed and wiped her tears before continuing. “See, girl, I decided that I was going to survive. I knew I was going to make it, and I have . . . so far. Things may not be exactly where I want them to be, but I got some goals, and I'm trying, one day at a time. So, what you gonna do?” she asked before answering the question for me, “You gonna survive, dammit, 'cause that's all you have to do.”
I nodded before bursting into tears. Dymond reached to hug me. I cried on her shoulder, trying to empty my body of the fear that had overcome me. Despite it all, I wasn't really confident that I could survive at all.
BOOK: Biker Chick
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