The California Saga (36 page)

“Oh, damn! Jimmy, it's good to hear from you. I just left my lawyer's office, and shit is lovely right now. Those conspiracy charges are dropped. Somehow paperwork got fucked up.”

“Like I told you when you were in here, it's all about who you know. You'll be surprised the things people will do for money.”

“True, true.” I wondered if Jimmy had anything to do with my good fortune. I wanted to ask him but knew that “the man” was probably listening in on the other end. “I need you to check out something for me. My boy

Deuce called you on three-way for me. He gon' call you back a little later.” Jimmy abruptly hung up the phone. Ten minutes later I got a call from Deuce, just like Jimmy said.

“Talk to me,” I said after answering the phone.

“You a cocky muthafucka,” the voice responded, laughing.

“Hey, what's going on?” I was hoping I didn't fuck myself by saying that.

“This is Deuce. I don't do too much talking on the phone. Meet me at Tiny's Bar. Can you make it there in thirty minutes?”

“Yes, I can.”

No sooner than I hung up the phone with Deuce, I realized I didn't have a ride to meet him. Jewel hadn't returned home yet, and my car was still in Lisa's garage. I needed to get my shit back.

With no other choice, I called a cab. Fifteen minutes later, I heard a horn blow outside. My cab had arrived.

I hopped in the backseat. “Tiny's bar,” I told the driver.

“You got it.” The fat, greasy-haired, white dude put the car into drive. As I was riding to meet Deuce, my thoughts turned back to my car and Lisa.
I can't believe this bitch has been calling Jewel's phone. How the fuck did she get her number? I've really gotten myself in a fucked-up situation.

A side of me wanted to go to her house and fuck her up again, but another side of me thought,
Maybe I should bait her in.
After all, that bitch had my car, and if I gave her a little attention, said the right words, I could not only get my car back, I could probably convince her to drop the charges.

I had to clear my mind as we pulled up to the lounge where I was meeting Deuce. I paid the driver and hopped out the funky-smelling taxi. Homeboy needed a shower bad. With two football games set to air that night, the bar was packed. I walked in, grabbed a seat, and ordered a bottle of Guinness. I sat thinking about the risk I was taking, dealing with Jimmy and his friend. I didn't really know these dudes at all. Yeah, Jimmy knew my pops, but what if they were actually enemies and he was setting me up to get revenge? Why was he so eager to help me in the joint? I decided I needed to be on guard while dealing with these dudes.

The fucked-up thing was, no matter how much doubt I had, I had no other choice than to fuck with Jimmy and Deuce. The word on the street was, I was on the run at one point and just got out of jail. When niggas hear shit like that, they scatter away like roaches when the light comes on. No one wants to be seen dealing with a wanted brother. Some real disloyal motherfuckers out here on the streets.

An older dude sat down next to me. “Touch.”

“Deuce?” I replied, unsure if this was him.

“That I am. What's up, man?”

“Chilling.”

We dapped each other up.

Deuce told the bartender, “Can I get two shots of vodka?”

Dressed in a grey sweatshirt, dingy jeans, sneakers and a Pittsburgh Steelers hat, Deuce smelled of oil, so I assumed his day job had to be working on cars. I could tell by his demeanor that he was old-school just like Jimmy.

“Jimmy must really like you, youngblood,” Deuce said. “He doesn't usually take such risks.”

“Risk?”

“You heard me right, son. If it was up to me alone, you wouldn't be in on the business. I don't need no youngblood fuckin' up my paper.”

“Well, lucky for me, it ain't up to you,” I spat, a little offended. “I'm gonna get mine, just like the next man. I don't want to mess with my paper or anyone else's.”

Deuce didn't say anything after that. He just stared me straight in my eyes. I wasn't going to be intimidated by him, so I met his eyes with the same intensity. I knew I could probably take him if it came down to fists, so I challenged him with my eyes for him to make the first move.

Deuce ended our little game of chicken by saying, “Well, you have an opportunity to make some money. Are you in or out?” He broke eye contact and took a sip of his drink.

Without even knowing what I was agreeing to, I said, “I'm in.”

Our handshake symbolized me signing my name on the dotted line of a contract.

“Well, you start tonight. Don't fuck it up,” he informed me. “This is the deal–I'll give you the product, you get rid of it and bring back 50 percent of the profit. That goes to Jimmy.”

“Just like that, huh?” It was a hell of a deal, but I was a little leery. It was almost too good to be true, but I couldn't afford to say no. I needed the money, and Jimmy was the only one willing to deal with me.

“That's it. You keep the money coming, and I'll keep the product coming.”

Then we made arrangements for me to pick up my first couple kilos of cocaine. I really didn't like working on consignment, but a nigga was broke and needed a start.

I left the bar feeling on top of the world. My case was dropped, and I got put on to a way to make some major cash. This was the best day I'd had in a long time. I hopped in the cab humming the tune of “It Was a Good Day” by Ice Cube.

 

 

After dropping Touch off at the house, I barely gave him time to close the car door before I sped off. I wouldn't have minded running over his pinky toe in the process. Touch had truly pissed me off! True, I was guilty for not telling him about Rico, but he had the nerve to question me, when he'd been living with another chick! I needed a little relaxation, so I decided to make a last-minute spa appointment. Luckily, I was a loyal customer, and they fit me right in.

“May I help you?” the receptionist asked as soon as I walked in.

“Yes, I'm here for my for eleven o'clock appointment with Miriam,” I responded.

POSH was an exclusive day spa with all the trimmings, and Miriam was my favorite. Not only was she a wonderful masseuse, but she was also a great esthetician. I'd planned to get the works. I'd requested a manicure, pedicure, a ninety-minute deep tissue massage, facial, and body wrap.

Although this was supposed to be a time of relaxation, I found myself spending a lot of time thinking about Touch and all his mistakes and fuckups. In the beginning we were a match made in heaven, best friends turned lovers. He was everything I ever wanted and needed in a man. But it seemed like the more money he made, the more problems we had. We ran into a little problem with the law, and things went downhill from there. When Touch and I both got caught in an undercover sting operation, it caused a huge rift between us. He thought I would rat him out, no matter how much I tried to calm him. I got taken by surprise by the investigation as much as he did.

Luckily for me, the charges got dropped because my attorney found a loophole in the law and convinced the judge that the charges against me were illegal. Good thing too. I don't think I would have been able to handle jail. I liked the finer things in life, and prison attire didn't suit my body. At times, I had begun to think I may be falling out of love with Touch. A woman can only take so much. R. Kelly had sent a warning to all men with the song, “When a Woman's Fed Up.” Well, this woman was reaching that point, and fast.

“Jewel, now I'm gonna give you a little extra attention and really focus on your head and scalp massage,” Miriam said as she let my hair down. “I noticed you're very tense, so I wanted to see if we can release a little tension you have in that area.”

“Gladly.” I nodded.

This kind of massage was the best part. One simple massage stroke of my scalp started draining my stress, my irritation, and my resentment of Touch.
That nigga should be grateful I been in his corner for so long.

As Miriam massaged my head with her magic touch, I was beginning to feel totally relaxed, so I closed my eyes. The first person I thought of was Rico. He'd always said that I deserved better out of life, but it was up to me to make it better. The more I thought about it, the more I realized he was right. I needed to make a change in my life. If I wanted the finer things, I needed to go out and get them. I couldn't rely on some street-ass nigga to provide for me.

Despite the fact I fucked Rico over, he still called from time to time and left messages saying he just wanted to hear my voice so he would know I was okay. He was a real gentleman, unlike most of the niggas I dealt with. I started regretting that I'd really fucked Rico over. A couple of times I had thought about calling him, but I was ashamed of the way I had treated him. I knew what I did was wrong.

Lying on the table, fully relaxed, I was considering calling and patching things up with him. Rico showed me nothing but kindness since the day we met. He was beginning to fall for me. I would be able to have the finer things if I went back to him. I began to compare Rico and Touch.
Rico is stable. Touch's sorry-ass damn sure is not. I need stability, no drama, and less chaos. With Touch, I never know if he is really in my corner. The only thing he has been truly been loyal to is the streets. I have always come in second place, which is so unfair to me. Rico seems to be all about me.

The more I thought about it, the more it became clear that Touch wasn't good for me.
So why do I keep going back to him? I think I might be afraid to let go of him.

Four hours, later my time of relaxation was over, and it was time to head home.

My anxiety slowly started to rise as I pulled into the neighborhood. I took a deep breath and continuously recited the words, “I will not fight with Touch tonight.”

While pulling up to the house, I noticed a box at the front door. Getting excited about the package, I parked in the driveway instead of pulling into the garage, since it would be easier for me to just pick up the package and go through the front door. I'd ordered some Victoria's Secret and was surprised it had arrived so soon. Receiving packages in the mail always improved my mood.

As I got closer to the box, I noticed it was already open. Feeling that someone had opened my package and stolen my lingerie, I began to get angry.
Damn, these grimy-ass niggas out here,
I thought, approaching the box. I quickly grabbed it and glanced inside. “Oh my God!” I screamed and dropped the box in a panic. “It's a baby!”

Inside the box lay a baby with a knife in the heart. Without thinking, I quickly grabbed the baby from the box. I thought that maybe there was still a chance to save it.

The second I touched it, I realized it was a plastic doll. “What the fuck?” I yelled. I was fuming inside, wondering who the fuck would do such a wicked act. The first thing that came to mind was one of Touch's psycho bitches.

I rushed inside the house with tears in my eyes. This was the final straw. I know Touch had fucked a lot of women even while he was with me, but this crossed the line. As soon as I opened the door, Touch was right there.

“Jewel, what's wrong, baby? I heard you yelling.” He grabbed me in an attempt to console me.

“Don't touch me!” I yelled, pushing him away.

Touch yelled as he noticed the baby in my arms. “What the fuck is this?”

“What does it look like, Touch? It's a gift that someone left on our doorstep.”

“What?

“Yeah. It's probably one of your psycho bitches you be fuckin'.”

“Hell, nah. That bitch don't know where we live.”

“Ha! Busted, you stupid moron! What specific bitch are you referring to?” I threw the doll at him.

“Damn! Chill, Jewel. I don't know who did this, Jewel.”

“Touch, what is really going on with you and that chick you got that domestic charge from? I need to know what's going on. My life could be in danger.” I tried explaining to Touch the seriousness of the situation.

“Don't overreact. There's nothing to worry about. I will find the muthafucka that did this and make them pay.”

“Oh, really? How would you find this person? Do you have an idea who it is or something?”

Touch shook his head. “I said I don't know.”

The thought that someone was bold enough to step foot on my doorstep and leave a bloody doll was crazy. This was way too over the top for me. I felt like I was having a nervous breakdown.

I quickly went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine with a glass and made my way down to the basement to unwind. “I need some time alone!” I yelled as I walked away without looking back. I didn't even want to look at Touch.

I filled the Jacuzzi up with hot water and bubbles, turned on Kelly Rowland, and filled my wineglass with Riesling. As I sat soaking in the tub, I started thinking about all of my enemies.
But who would be evil enough to do such a heinous thing?

The first person that came to mind was Sasha, an old friend of mine. She'd done some real fucked-up things in the past, but it had been nearly a year since I'd heard from her. She had just disappeared, and no one knew where she had gone. But something told me it wasn't her.

Then my mind traveled to Rico. After all, I had lied to him and taken ten thousand dollars from him to bail out Touch. He did have a reason to be pissed at me. A small part of me wouldn't blame him for seeking revenge. Any thought I had of getting back with Rico was now out the window. I wondered if he had really flipped his lid. Honestly I had no idea what this man was capable of doing. It's always the quiet ones who are the most dangerous. For a minute I even contemplated telling Touch about Rico; it would only be fair to tell him. Our lives could be in danger.

I took the last sip of my Riesling, turned up my music, lay my head back on my bath pillow, and closed my eyes. I was totally relaxed as the tune of “Motivation” floated through my head. I moved my hand to my midsection as I listened to the words of Lil Wayne.

With each verse I massaged my clit in a circular motion, moving my hips in rhythm with the music. I could feel myself reaching my peak as I imagined sitting on Lil Wayne's face, gripping his dreads tight.

Minutes later, after I'd satisfied myself, a true feeling of total relaxation sent me into a doze.

“How could you do this?” a whisper interrupted my moment of euphoria.

“What did you say?” I looked around the room nervously. I could barely make out the person's voice. “For the first time, in a long time, I actually wanted to treat a woman right, and here you come with the bullshit. Jewel, man, you broke my fuckin' heart.” A face finally appeared from a dark corner of the room.

“Rico, I–”

“I didn't fuckin' say you could speak,” he said as he pressed the cold metal tip of a gun to my stomach. “I think we both can agree that you have done enough. Right now all your ass is going to do is listen, and when I'm done, I might let you speak.”

I nodded my head to let him know I understood very well. My mind was racing, my heart was fluttering, and I was too terrified to move an inch. All I could do was pray Touch would come to my rescue. He was upstairs somewhere probably high and drunk, while this nigga Rico was trying to make this my last living night in the basement.

“This pain is unbearable. I thought you were the one for me. I have a few questions, and you damn sure better answer them,” Rico said.

I nodded again, the gun still lodged into my stomach.

“Did you ever love me?” he questioned.

“Yes,” I said without hesitation. I didn't love Rico, but I knew at this point it was either do or die. I had to say exactly what he wanted to hear in order to save my life.

“Oh, yeah. So, that dude upstairs, do you love him more than me?”

“Rico, why are you doing this?” I begged.

“Shut the fuck up, Jewel! I didn't say you could speak. Now answer me. Does Touch have more of a special place in your heart than me?”

“No,” I said, trying to assure him he was the love of my life.

“Jewel, your ass ain't too convincing. I bet if I had a thousand dollars in my hand ready to give then you would put on a good show for me. You always were about the dollar. I was nothing but kind to you. I wanted to take care of you. All I wanted in return was you to love me and accept me,” he stated, becoming angrier and angrier.

“Rico, baby, I do love you,” I said as I caressed the side of his face.

“You lyin' bitch!” He smacked my hand away from his face. “Shit ain't gone ever change. You're nothing but a manipulative, gold-digging whore. It is what it is though. Now open wide for me,” he demanded as he placed the gun in my mouth.

Pow!
The trigger went off, jerking my head back into the wall.

I woke up to the sound of my wineglass shattering on the basement floor. I was in a cold sweat.

“Damn! Rico is haunting me in my dreams,” I said to no one in particular.

I gathered myself, grabbed a towel, and got out the Jacuzzi, careful not to step in glass. I headed up the stairs feeling guilty as hell for playing with Rico's emotions.