Riding Dirty on I-95 (19 page)

“Then why ain't you hook up with him?” Mercy questioned.

“If I could have, I would have. He's the friend of the dude I was with. They too cool for me to try to fuck with both of 'em. I was gonna put his ass on reserve, but I thought it would be nice to share for once.” Chrissie winked at Mercy and then headed to the living room.

Mercy stared at the paper. For all she knew, this nigga was FBI, too. Everybody could be playing her, including Chrissie. She tossed the paper in a drawer and lay down to stare at her ceiling and try to figure out what to do.

M
ercy lay in the bed tossing and turning. She was scheduled to make a run for Hyena in a couple of days. She needed the money, but she knew the Feds were watching him, and she couldn't subject herself to the brick wall that was sure to come crumbling down on him. If she did stop working for him suddenly, he would probably become suspicious of her, and any shit that did go down he would put on her. The last thing she wanted to do was to get caught in the cross fire, so she knew she would have to play dodgeball with Hyena, but she had no idea how in the hell she could get out of Dodge.

When the phone rang at nine o'clock the next morning, it didn't wake Mercy up from a deep sleep. She had spent the last few hours with her eyes closed, but she was anything but asleep.

“Hello,” Mercy said.

“Mercy?” a male voice asked. She didn't recognize the voice.

“Yeah.”

“It's good to know that you are a morning person. At least we know that we already have one thing in common.”

“Who is this?” Mercy asked, sitting up in the bed. “You calling for Chrissie?”

“No, not right now,” the caller said. “Right now I'm calling for you. Perhaps I'll be calling Chrissie later … to thank her.”

“Who is this?” Mercy said, becoming slightly agitated. She wasn't in the mood to be playing any games on the phone.

“It's the next heavyweight champion of the world. I'm Taymar. Chrissie couldn't stop talking about you. I wanted to call you just as soon as she gave me your number, but I figured I had to wait at least twenty-four hours. I'm an impatient brotha, and want it when I want it. So I could only wait sixteen.”

“Excuse me?” Mercy said, still not certain who this character was, trying to be so slick with his lines.

He laughed a conceited laugh. “I know, I know. I'm not used to this myself,” Taymar said.

“Used to what?” Mercy snapped. “Calling women you don't even know the first thing in the morning, like you just woke up with a morning hard-on and gon' jack off to they voice on the phone or something?”

“Damn,” he laughed. “Maybe I was wrong about you.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I think.” He paused, thinking of some more slick shit to say. “You're not a morning person at all. But, it's cool. I think I can get past that.”

Mercy couldn't help but let out a little chuckle.
This is one of them suckers who like to suck they own dick
, she said to herself.

“Was that laughter I heard?” Taymar asked.

Mercy didn't respond. She just shook her head.

“What, did I call you too soon? You want me to wait the eight more hours?”

Mercy laughed.

“Now, I know that was laughter.”

“Do you ever stop?” Mercy asked.

“Nope, not until I get the W,” he said smoothly.

“The W, huh?” Mercy asked.

“Yep, the W.”

“Is that the win?”

“Normally. But in this case, it's the woman.”

Mercy smiled from ear to ear as she blushed. Her initial reaction, to be a bitch and get rid of the ol' dude, disappeared as she found herself talking with Taymar for hours. He talked about his goals as a boxer, and she talked about her goals as a screenwriter. When she looked up at the clock, it was after one o'clock in the afternoon. She had lain in the bed like a teenager in high school, gabbing away on the phone about any- and everything. She needed to get her mind off of all the drama. She needed an escape. Perhaps Taymar was that escape in more ways than one.

“Do you realize that for what this phone call just cost me I could have bought you a plane ticket to come see me?” Taymar joked.

Mercy thought about the comment Taymar had just made. Maybe a trip to Chicago was just what she needed. It would be the perfect place to get out of Dodge, so to speak. Mercy thought up a quick comeback to Taymar's comment.

“Then next time you should just send me a plane ticket instead of calling me,” Mercy said, chuckling, but so serious.

“Baby, you ain't said nothing,” Taymar quickly responded. “I'm serious. Just say the word.” He added, “See, I don't think you know
who I am. I am the next heavyweight champion of the world. I make shit happen,” he stressed.

She brushed off his last comment since she knew that he praised the ground that he walked on. “Show me. You keep talking 'bout it, show me the money, nigga!” Mercy teased.

“No, but seriously. I'm going to be training soon. I wouldn't mind taking these last few days before I commit my body to winning this fight to get to know you. My mind is already committed, but once I commit my body, I'll be living in the gym.”

“When do you start training?”

“Next week,” he answered.

“Next week!” Mercy said in shock. “Hell, that means I'd have to come tomorrow.”

Taymar paused. “What do you say? Your ticket ain't nothing but a click away.”

“And you still talking, huh?” Mercy played along.

“Look, I know you don't know me, but damn, I feel like you know more about me in the last four hours than my baby's mama knew about me in the last ten years.”

“Why is that?” Mercy asked curiously.

“I don't know. I just felt like I was talking to one of my buddies. There wasn't anything I wanted to hold back from you. From the moment you said hello when you answered the phone, you didn't seem like a stranger. Maybe it was because Chrissie talked you up so much. She couldn't stop bragging about your scripts. Then to actually sit here and listen to you talk about it yourself…. Man, I'm just feeling everything about you.”

“Do you rehearse the shit you say?” Mercy chuckled.

“Naw, baby. This is all real.”

“It's all real?”

“Yes, it is.”

Mercy closed her eyes and took in Taymar's voice, the sincerity of it. Taking off on a whim with someone she didn't even know wasn't something Mercy would have normally considered, but she figured if she could do it with Farmer John, then she could do it with Taymar.

“Then I guess I better get packing,” Mercy said.

“For real, you coming tonight?”

Mercy thought for a minute. There was nothing more she wanted to do than to hop on a plane and get the fuck away, but there was something she had to do first. “No,” she replied. She could hear Taymar's sigh of disappointment. “I've got to do a couple of things. I can come the day after tomorrow.”

“Are you serious?” Taymar questioned. “The day after tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Mercy assured him.

“You know I hate waiting. I'm used to people jumping to my beck and call.”

“And me too,” Mercy said.

“Well, I'm gonna go online right now. Give me your e-mail address, and I'll e-mail you your itinerary.”

“It's havemercy@
common.com
.”

“This is crazy,” Taymar said, letting out a laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Since you're not a morning person I'm going to get you on the first afternoon flight available day after tomorrow.”

Mercy laughed. “Sounds good.”

“Then I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

“I'll wait for your call,” Mercy said in a sensual tone.

They ended the call, and Mercy threw herself back on the bed. She couldn't believe she was doing this, but she almost had to. Taymar was heaven-sent in more ways than one. Mercy closed her
eyes, and before she knew it, she was sound asleep. She slept deeply for about an hour before she abruptly woke up and remembered why she couldn't leave tomorrow. There was something she had to do before even thinking about leaving town.

Mercy needed to go see Raheem. She had planned to go see him anyway, but now she needed an explanation as to what in the hell was going on with him supposedly working with the Feds. She needed to hear the bullshit from the horse's mouth. It was on her mind constantly, and she needed some kind of clarity as to why Raheem would sell out. He was her boy, no doubt. He had put her in a position to eat, but she'd been raised by two of the most crucial dudes in the game, and if she'd learned nothing at all, she'd learned that a rat was poison and spineless and could do no good to anyone.

If she obeyed traffic laws, the ride to the prison in Butner, North Carolina, was three hours away, so Mercy had to break a few. For the entire drive Mercy thought about what words could possibly come out of Raheem's mouth. What words could possibly make her want to fuck with him again?

When Mercy arrived at the prison she went through the typical procedures: showing ID, being searched before she was escorted to the visiting room. Although she only waited thirty minutes for Raheem to come to the visiting room, it seemed like an eternity. He walked in and gave Mercy a hug.

I wonder if this motherfucker is wearing a wire?
Mercy thought, trying to inconspicuously pat him down his back and press her front tight against him as she returned the hug.

“Why you wait so late to get here?” he asked, looking at his watch. “I'm surprised they even let you in as shitty as they be acting.”

“I don't know,” Mercy said, sitting back down. “I haven't been able to sleep, so when I finally did fall asleep, I just slept.”

“Why you ain't been sleeping?” Raheem asked with concern.

“You want to know why?” Mercy said.

“Yeah. Why?”

“Because I been thinking about you. I have been thinking about the person that I once was madly in love with. That person who taught me so much. That person who bailed me out of jail with a black eye—that dude. And now I'm wondering, Who is that dude, really? Who is he?”

Raheem grabbed Mercy's hand and said, “I'm still that dude. I'm still your friend, and I'm still your protector.” He looked into her eyes and then continued. “And never would I let anything happen to you.”

Mercy looked away from him. “I can't tell,” she half mumbled. She took a deep breath. “You sent the police at me because you wasn't man enough to tell me that you was working with them. You could have told me yourself, Raheem. You should have told me yourself.”

“Man, you don't understand,” Raheem said, getting huffy. “Twenty years is a long time to be here in a cage around a whole bunch of niggas. Twenty years is a long time to be away from yo' family, loved ones, and kids. Twenty years is a long time to be here and never to touch a woman sexually. Mercy, baby, twenty years is a long time to be away from you. I can't stand having you out there by yourself.” Tears began to roll down Raheem's face as he paused. “Twenty years is a long time.”

Mercy had never seen Raheem cry before. The day he was sentenced he'd looked like he wanted to cry, but he'd just stuck his chest out and walked out of the courtroom with the deputy. Seeing him show his emotions to her for the first time made Mercy forget for a minute just how angry she was at him.

“Damn, baby.” She rubbed his hand, and the tears rolled down
her face. “I don't want us to be away from each other for that long either. I appreciate and miss a lot of the times we had, but when did we start working with the police?”

He took a deep breath and tried to make a joke. “Shit, we ain't working with the police. I basically told on niggas because niggas told on me, and as far as that Hyena nigga goes, they gon' pick that nigga up sooner or later and I ain't going to sit around and let them hear what he got to say about me. I'm going to beat that nigga to the punch.”

“Damn, baby!” She sat staring off, wiping her tears away. “Damn,” was all she could say.

“Don't worry, baby. Never will I do anything to jeopardize you or to put you in the line of fire,” Raheem said. “You just gotta trust me.”

“Just talking to them folks is putting me in the line of fire, Raheem,” she said, trying to be selective about what she said because she didn't want to incriminate herself.

“All you gotta do is go cop from that nigga Hyena. The Feds will handle the rest. The less you know, the less you will expect; the less you'll look like you're in on it.”

“I'm broke! Where am I going to get the money to cop anyway?”

“They gon' give it to you.”

“They who?”

Raheem looked around and answered in a whisper. “You tell Hy that you know some people that want to buy some work from him. Act like you ain't nothing more than a middleman, someone who knows someone and who is just trying to help someone out. That's all.”

“That's all, huh? Just play the role of the dumb little broad?”

Raheem paused as if he had intended to lie, but decided against
it. “Naw, they gon' probably get you to do it a couple mo' times. Hyena had you deal with anybody else? We can get them, too. That's even better.”

Mercy didn't comment. She couldn't believe her ears. Was the time really that much for Raheem to handle?