Married to a Balla (15 page)

As he watched the play unfold, he could see the protection break in the pocket and knew why the Dolphins quarterback got sacked.

“Coach Sparano’s dumb-ass always runs the Forty-Two Blue every time. That single back formation wit’ a screen pass to the runnin’ back shit never works because everybody in the league knows he constantly runs that play.” Sandino shook his head. “Henne never got sacked when I was in the game. Even wit’ that stupid-ass play. They should’ve got rid of his ass instead of me!” he said, referring to his former head coach. “That’s why they didn’t make the play-offs!”

Sandino took his mind off the T.V. momentarily when Trina’s cell phone rang. Expecting a call, Sandino hit the accept button as soon as he recognized the number.

“Yo,” he answered.

“What up Sandino. This Dre. I got your message.”

“Yo, what up? Damn, it took your ass long enough to hit me back.”

Dre laughed. “I see you still impatient. It’s only been about thirty minute’s nigga, so calm down. Anyway, I saw your release on the news ‘dis mornin’.”

“Yeah that shit…”

Sandino was suddenly interrupted when Trina walked back into the room.

“Did my phone ring?” she asked with a fork in her hand. Her facial expression wondered why Sandino had her new Blackberry Torch up to his ear.

“Yeah, it did.”

“So, who was it?” Trina questioned.

She hoped like hell Sandino wasn’t having words with one of her other men. With her car note coming up, she didn’t need any altercations.

“Bitch, obviously it wasn’t for you if I’m on the phone,” Sandino shot back. “Now, take your ass back in the kitchen.” When Trina stomped away, Sandino yelled, “And don’t come back out empty handed either!”

Placing the phone back to his ear, Sandino continued. “Anyway, like I was sayin’ that shit was crazy. Them reporters were all up in my face as soon as I stepped out the damn gates.”

“That’s what happens when you a super star.” Dre joked. “So, what’s up?”

“I have a business proposition for you.”

“Oh yeah, what is it? I hope it’s about makin’ some real paper, cause this broke shit ain’t for me,” Dre responded.

“Not over the phone nigga. Meet me over my bitches crib so we can talk about it.”

Once Sandino gave him the address, Dre told him he was on his way, then hung up.

Sandino really liked Dre, who was his former cell mate in jail. After re-lighting the blunt and pulling on it a few times, Sandino’ s mind drifted back to the days he stood on the yard running his mouth about being in the NFL. Unfortunately, most of the inmates didn’t believe or recognize him at first, so he constantly got asked tons of questions. Most inmates thought being locked up with a pro ball player was cool, while the others were straight haters.

Dre, who always stayed to himself on the yard, peeped a dude who was about to sneak up behind Sandino with a blade one day. Instead of turning the other cheek, he stepped to the guy and applied a serious chokehold, hoping the dude would pass out. It took five guards to pull Dre off, who ended up spending a week in the hole for his actions. Although they were always cool, Sandino respected him even more for saving his life after that.

I guess that nigga’s like my guardian angel
, Sandino thought.

Twenty minutes later, Sandino stood up from Trina’s black, leather Lazyboy recliner when someone knocked on the door. As soon as he glanced through the peep hole and saw Dre, he quickly opened the door with a smile.

“What up my nigga?” Sandino greeted.

“Mannnn, what the hell are you doin’ in ‘dis neighborhood? This is where I caught my assault and battery charge eighteen months ago. I’m probably still a wanted man over here. I had to go to war wit’ a few youngins who thought they could come in and steal my turf,” Dre’ said, giving Sandino some dap as he walked inside the apartment. He looked around to make sure it was safe to be there before he sat down and made himself comfortable.

“Man, you washed up in the drug game anyway. Ain’t nobody checkin’ for yo’ old-ass over here,” Sandino said.

“That may be true and I may be done wit’ slingin’ drugs, but I’ll still fuck a nigga up if they step to me wrong. That shit will never change,” Dre bragged.

Standing at 6’4, with a two-hundred and eighty pound physique, Dre looked very intimidating to most. The tattooed guns on his neck and the words
Thug Life
, going across his back didn’t help either.

Sitting back down, Sandino didn’t waste time passing Dre his fresh blunt. It wasn’t long before the two men sat smoking weed and reminiscing about some of crazy shit they experienced in jail.

“So, what’s ‘dis business proposition you wanted to talk to me about?” Dre asked.

“I was just about to bring that up. Do you remember when I used to talk about my wife all the time?”

Dre shook his head. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Remember when I told you she left me and took my kids? Well, that’s why I need your help. I need you to find her for me.”

Dre chuckled. “Are you serious? So, you want me to be on some ole’ Magnum PI type shit.”

“Exactly.”

“Man, you were in the joint for a minute. I just knew as soon as you got out she would be waitin’ for your ass. Why don’t you just call her and start beggin’. You know women like ‘dat soft shit.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“So, why do you wanna find her so bad? It’s obvious that she doesn’t wanna be found. Even if she wanted a divorce, is bein’ by yourself ‘dat bad nigga?”

At that moment Sandino lost his patience. “Look, that bitch took my kids and I want ‘em back. Do you want the damn job or not? You said you broke, right?”

“Yeah, I am, but do you even have any money left? Didn’t you get kicked out the league?”

“Don’t worry about that nigga. All you need to be concerned wit’ is that I’ll pay you half the money now and if you find her I’ll give you the rest.”

Dre rubbed his thin mustache that he’d decided to let grow in. “Let me think about ‘dis for a minute. You caught a nigga off guard wit’ ‘dis shit.”

Dre pulled on the blunt thinking about the proposition when someone knocked on the door. Sandino walked over and peeped through the hole before opening it.

“What’s up nigga?” Black yelled. He and Sandino gave each other some dap and a quick hug.

Neatly dressed in a pair of Hudson jeans, Prada loafers, and a grey button down shirt, Black walked over to the couch and sat down. It wasn’t long before Dre noticed Black passing Sandino some type of pills.

“Dre, this my right hand man, Black,” Sandino introduced. “Black, this the nigga Dre I was tellin’ you ‘bout. The one who was locked up wit’ me.”

“Yeah, I heard about you. What up?” Black said, giving Dre some dap. He then grabbed the blunt sitting in the ash tray, took a huge pull and inhaled.

As Dre wondered what the pills were all about, Black continued to puff on the blunt until he suddenly snapped his fingers.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot.” Black reached in his pocket and pulled out a huge wad of money before tossing it to Sandino.

Sandino smiled then held the money up. “Yeah, I needed this. I’m not used to walkin’ around wit’ empty pockets.” He looked at Dre. “You still think I’m broke nigga?”

As if she could smell currency in the air, Trina walked back in the room with a bowl in her hand. Quickly cutting her eye at the money, she placed the bowl on the table as Sandino examined the food. This time she’d prepared Ramen noodles with two pieces of grilled chicken breasts on top and some broccoli. Sandino really went off this time.

“You been in there all this time and this is what you came out wit’? Bitch maybe this is what the fuck you call a meal, but I don’t eat shit like this. You told me you could cook. My wife could cook; she would never bring her man no shit like this!”

Trina was beyond sick of him by now. “Well, maybe you need to go find her and tell her to come cook for your ass!”

When Black and Dre started laughing, Sandino’s blood began to boil. Not to be disrespected by any female, Sandino stood up and slapped Trina so hard, she instantly saw stars.

“Say something else out of line bitch!” he warned.

Trina grabbed her throbbing face. “But that’s the only thing I have left in the house to cook.” She looked at the money Sandino had placed on the table. “If you give me some money, I’ll go to the store.”

“I’m not givin’ your coke-head ass shit. Get the fuck out my face Trina!” Sandino yelled.

Trina walked away embarrassed by the fact that Sandino had played her in front of his friends.

Dre shook his head thinking,
Damn, I thought I had a short temper, but Sandino is off the chain. I see why his wife left his ass.

“Yo, Black you seen that nigga Cruze?” Sandino asked then sat back down.

“Hell no, I ain’t seen his punk-ass.”

“That nigga is beyond foul. After all the shit I did for him he could’ve at least came to see me while I was locked up. I haven’t heard from his ass since I dropped him off after that shit happened at the diner,” Sandino replied.

“Yeah, that nigga probably still saltly about how shit went down, but fuck that nigga. He weak anyway,” Black said.

“What about that bitch, Asia? Anybody seen her around?” Sandino continued.

Black shook his head. “Ain’t seen her either.”

“Well, I guess that was a dumb question because I know for a fact that bitch popped Keon. Do you know some bullshit-ass detectives came to question me about that shit while I was locked up? Talkin’ ‘bout I was the last one he called,” Sandino stated. “I gave that bitches name up easily, cuz I wasn’t about to go down for that shit.”

“Her ass definitely skipped town by now,” Black chimed in.

Sandino switched the subject. “Has Kareem tried to reach you again?”

“Nope. He only called that one time. When I asked if they were still in Atlanta he said yeah. But when I him asked what area, he rushed me off the phone. It sounded like he really wanted to tell me though. I called the number back, but he wouldn’t answer,” Black informed.

“What’s the number? Hopefully he’ll pick up this time,” Sandino said.

Black reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. After blurting out the number, Sandino grabbed Trina’s house phone and dialed Kareem’s phone. He listened as the phone rang and then an automated voicemail came on.

Sandino slammed the phone down. “That bitch probably found out he called you!” He looked at Dre. “So, what are you gonna do nigga? I don’t have all day. The reason why I even asked you to do this shit is because I remember you tellin’ me you were from ATL. If you not up to the task, then I need to find somebody else.”

After looking at the stack of money on the table, Dre finally decided to take Sandino up his the offer. Besides, he had nothing to lose. The trip to Atlanta was the key to him getting back on his feet. After paying all his lawyer fees, all his money was gone. He was dead broke.

“Yeah, I’m down. All my people still in ATL, so ‘dis shit might work out. Once I hit the streets, I should be able to get some information on her. What’s her name? Do you have a picture?”

“Her name is Skye. Ain’t too many black bitches walkin’ around wit’ that shit, so once you put that name out there, it shouldn’t be hard,” Sandino replied before turning to Black.

“Man, I looked for a picture of her when I went by the house to get the money, but I couldn’t find one,” Black informed.

As soon as Sandino was about to go off, it hit him that he’d burned any picture that had Skye in it one night after she left. “No picture. But I can tell you that she’s about 5’6, light complexion, long hair and has the most beautiful green eyes.”

“Cool, that’ll help. Meanwhile keep callin’ your son because he might just break and actually say where they are,” Dre said.

“Sandino, I don’t know why you never sent me,” Black stated. “That’s what I’m here for…to take care of shit.”

“You know why I never sent you nigga,” Sandino replied.
If you were gonna take that gun and assault charge, I needed your ass around
.

Dre looked at Sandino. “Why don’t you go yourself?”

“Because the last thing I want is for people to see me ridin’ around lookin’ for her. Black people talk, so you never know, the shit just might get back to her, and that bitch might leave again. No…I want her to get comfortable. I wanna sneak up on her ass when she least expects it. Besides, I might take my agent’s advice and go do that rehab shit. If I get my kids back, I at least want it to seem like I’m a good father.”

“When do you wanna get ‘dis done?” Dre questioned.

“As soon as possible. The sooner you find her...the better,” Sandino replied.

Dre and Sandino talked a few more minutes about the plan before Sandino handed him ten thousand dollars. To make sure they were on the same page, Sandino reiterated that he would give Dre the rest of the money once he found Skye, which was fine since Dre planned to put his private eye skills to work.

“As soon as you find her, call me. I’ll tell you what to do at that point,” Sandino stated. “I might just have you bring my kids back, then throw in an extra fee to get rid of that bitch.”

Dre turned to Sandino and looked at him with an odd expression. He was down for playing Private Eye, but killing someone, especially a woman was an entirely different playing field.

Well, maybe he’ll change his mind about that part. In the meantime, it’s time to find this bitch so I can get paid
, Dre thought to himself.

Chapter 17

Skye was hard at work on her shift at one of downtown Atlanta’s historic food spots called,
The Varsity
. Established in 1928, and home of the world’s largest drive-ins, The Varsity was one of the most popular fast food restaurants in the entire city. Skye presented a fake smile every time she had to recite there famous slogan, “What’ll ya have” to the customers as soon as they walked inside. It wasn’t necessarily her dream job, or a top paying profession at some Fortune 500 company, but for now it would have to do. As long as she had money to pay her bills and put food on the table, she couldn’t complain. Sandino had taken care of Skye all her life, so her first job was definitely a reality check.