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Authors: Shan

Tags: #Drama, #Shan, #Rozalyn, #Wahida clark, #Versace

The Versace League (8 page)

BOOK: The Versace League
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Knox stormed off angrily.

             
“Manny and Emmanuel ran after them!” Aucelie yelled as she veered her head into the office.

             
“You okay?” Yamin asked.

             
“I’m fine. Everybody is fine. Thankfully no one was hurt,” Aucelie answered.

             
“Alright, let’s go Aasir so we can catch up to Manny and Emmanuel,” Yamin said.

             
“Y’all be careful, please. Let this be the last time we have to mourn in this way,” Aucelie solemnly said.

             
She stepped to the side and Yamin and Aasir bolted past her heading towards the door. She clasped her hands together and prayed that they would find whomever it was driving that Chevy, and hoped that when they did that they would all safely return, Ashley included. When she turned around, she spotted Patrice’s eyes buried on her face and it caused a cool chill to run through her body. She didn’t know what was up with that, but kept it moving as she went through to reassure that everyone was okay.

 

HACKED

 

 

 

The days had calmly passed and there were still no signs of Ashley. Manny and Emmanuel pursued the red Chevy for over thirty minutes before they lost it leaving them in the same position they started in. There were no leads or even a clue as to who was behind the chaos, but that hadn’t been the worse part. All communication had ceased from whoever had Ashley, not another note or another video. They had no idea if she was okay or better yet if she was even still alive.

             
“Ya, I’m staying out here,” Manny said as he fired up a cigarette.

             
Yamin nodded his head and walked the sidewalk that led to Cortez's town home. He was exhausted and it showed in every step he took. He couldn't remember the last time he slept a wink and honestly didn't care. He was too scared to close his eyes for too long in fear that he would lose time. Every minute that Ashley was missing was a minute too long.

   His family was hurting and finding her was the only thing that would bring them comfort. As to be expected, Donica was a mess and called him every single day crying. He only wished that the next time she called he could pick up the phone with good news instead of false hopes.

   

The FBI was involved and doing what they could to find her. An Amber Alert had been issued and Ashley's face was everywhere, but everything seemed to be for nothing. He needed some kind of idea, some kind of clue as to what was going on. All he knew was that he'd taken something from someone and they were now having a great time taking from him. It was a torturous game that they were playing. Had they told him who they were or just what he had taken, he would gladly replace it.  Nothing was greater than the life of Ashley. Not one thing.

    Yamin placed the key into the lock and twisted it until it clicked. He turned the knob and pushed the door open. The cool air that hit him caused his body to tremble as he looked around in sadness. He'd spent plenty of time at this place and had a great deal of memories to last him a lifetime. As he stepped further into the townhouse, he could swear that he heard Cortez’s laugh. He could surely smell him.

             
He walked over to the fireplace and picked up a picture that he and his brothers had taken the last time they were all together at Cortez’s place. He remembered that night the picture had been taken clearly.

             
“What you mean you missing a hundred stacks? Where the hell is it?” Aasir asked with raised brows. He took a tug of the Kush and blew out a thick cloud of smoke. He was sitting in Cortez’s recliner with his legs propped on the table, enjoying the night. He felt good since The Versace League had just completed another successful job that garnered them over fifteen million dollars for a few day’s worth of work. They had been hired to steal a safety deposit box from inside of a federal bank. None of them knew what the safety deposit box held, but knew that it had to be something valuable. It took ten of the players to pull it off leaving them each with one and a half million dollars.

Aasir wasn’t computer savvy like Cortez, nor was he as street savvy and sophisticated as Yamin. He was just him. Everyone had a role, or had something they were good at, but Aasir just got in wherever he fit in. So he was happy to have just made a million and a half to just watch Yamin and Knox’s back as they pulled the heist off. It was easy money.

“Shit it's gone. First I noticed a few stacks here and there were missing and then a couple of months ago, I noticed that it increased dramatically. When I added it all up it came up to like a hundred and twenty-two thousand,” Cortez said, and looked at Yamin. He waited for Yamin to say something or even make a facial expression to let him know what he was thinking, but nothing. “I don’t know what to do. I asked her about it and she said she needed it to give to her grandma to pay for her chemo treatments and didn’t think I would just give it to her. So, I handed her another hundred thousand and I thought she would stop and just come to me, but I checked last night and a few extra thousand was gone.”

“She asks you for everything else! Shoes, cars, clothes-and all the rest of that bullshit but she can’t ask you for money when it fuckin’ matters,” Yamin yelled. He’d tried his hardest not to show any emotion for the situation, but he was sick of Patrice using Cortez. She was a money hungry peasant that claimed she came from money that only she has seen.

Yamin was sick of seeing Cortez being used when he had the potential to do so much better. He had a baby mama that had been there for him since the two of them were in grade school and she was a true rider. She didn’t care if Cortez lived in a shack and would happily live there with him without one complaint.

“Damn, here you go. She was just scared to ask me for that amount of money at once,” Cortez asked. He grabbed his bottle of beer from the table and took a swig. He knew that Yamin couldn’t stand Patrice and he regretted that he ever brought the subject up.

“So, what the fuck you bring it up for and ask us what you should do if you’re just gonna take up for her?” Yamin asked.

Cortez sighed.

Patrice was his soul mate and the two of them would eventually marry and have kids. He had never met anyone of her stature. She had her own and could bring just as much to the table as he could. He didn’t understand why Yamin insisted that Patrice was a lying gold digger. When he’d met her she was driving a red Mercedes Benz, and lived in a hundred thousand dollar condominium downtown. Yamin’s judgment of her was off and he wished that he would show Patrice the same respect that he’d shown Jessica.

“I think Patrice is cool, but I don’t know bruh, sometimes I feel like she is after you for your money,” Aasir inserted.

“Patrice doesn’t even know I have money bruh. Her condo cost more than this shit I’m living in. She thinks I work as a computer specialist by day and sell dope by night,” Cortez argued.

“She might think that you got a nine to five and hustle, but she knows you have money Cort. I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you to keep your shit more private. You got bank account statements sitting on the table. I saw a file with a client’s name on it sitting on your fucking bed when I went to take a piss. What are you doing?” Yamin asked disgustedly.

“Patrice was claiming I hadn’t been at home lately so after we finished that bank job, I decided to do some research from the house. It’s nothing. She didn’t look at it,” Cortez explained.

“Man you better hope not,” Aasir passed the blunt to Cortez and shook his head at his little brother.

“Why would you leave the wifey type to be with that mutt bucket?” Yamin asked, not hiding his displeasure one bit.

“Come on man, you know I hate when you call her that. You act like she can help the fact that she’s mixed,” Cortez exhaled.

“You know I have no problem with her being mixed. I’ve dated plenty myself. I just think she a lying, gold digging-“ Yamin sucked his teeth. “See, I don’t want to disrespect you by calling her out her name, so that’s why I call her a mutt bucket.”

“And y’all know what it is with me and Donica. We just grew apart,” Cortez said.

“But you still fucking her though,” Aasir asserted.

“Man, y’all be easy on me. I know I be fuckin’ up sometimes,” Cortez laughed. “I’m a leave Donica alone eventually. Me and Trice gonna be getting married a few months after you big bruh.” He took a puff of the weed, held the smoke in for a few seconds, and then blew it out. He sighed heavily and stared down at the floor wondering about his relationship with Patrice.  Just as he told himself that Patrice loved him for him and that his brothers were full of shit, she walked in with at least four shopping bags in each hand all from high end department stores.

It pissed him off that she spent the day shopping but at least he could see where the few thousand dollars had gone.  He was hardly hurting behind money and he was sure Patrice didn’t know about his true finances. As much as he wanted to ball all out over the city and stunt on niggas and bitches with Patrice, Yamin wouldn’t allow it. He didn’t want any unnecessary attention being brought to The League and insisted that they kept it calm until they were out of the game. The bank account that Patrice knew about never went over a quarter million dollars so it was impossible that she was just with him for his money. He knew of plenty niggas that kept that kind of cash lying around like it was nothing, so why was Patrice there with him and not with one of them?

  “Hey y’all! Why y’all looking at me like that?” Patrice asked as she peered through her Dolce and Gabbana shades.

“What’s up Trice? You bring me something back?” Aasir asked with a smirk.

“Hell no! Baby, look….” Patrice placed her bags on the floor and reached into the bag that came from Best Buy. She pulled out a digital camera and a huge smile crossed her face. “….I did buy you a new camera. I already took it out the box to check it out. I didn’t want to get the wrong one.”

“You mean he brought him a new camera,” Yamin said.

“Oh shut up, Ya! Let me take y’all a picture,” Patrice smiled. She pulled her shades off and held the camera to her face. “Come on, stop acting like you’re too tough to smile Cort.”

Since the beginning of his relationship with Patrice, Yamin never once gave him his approval and that bothered him. Yamin's okay meant everything to him just as much as his father's approval did before he died. Most of the time he would allow it to roll off his back thinking Yamin was being mean because he didn’t approve of him leaving his family, but now he truly wondered if Yamin’s suspicions were right. Looking at the bags Patrice brought in now had him considering his brother's allegations.

Normally Cortez would use his computer skills and connections to research any woman he dated before he ran into Patrice, but it always ruined his relationship when the woman found out what he'd done. When he’d met Patrice, he decided that he would do the one thing his father and older brothers had taught him not to do-trust a woman.

Cortez leaned back on the sofa and looked Patrice over. She was definitely a bombshell and it blew Cortez’s mind each time he looked at her. She was mixed with Puerto Rican and black and had and amazing shape. Her exotic features were breath taking from her soft brown skin to her hazel eyes. She had long black curly hair that she kept in a bun most of the time and she was exceptionally thick in all the right places. Cortez loved his women in all shapes and sizes, but he had to admit that Patrice's looks were the only reason he'd even approached her. He was looking for a quick fuck, but ended up falling in love. He only hoped that it was as real for her as it was for him.

"Baby, smile!" Patrice hissed. She had taken several pictures, but Cortez had been too deep in his feelings to smile. She walked over to him and sat on his lap. She could see that something was bothering him. "What's wrong boo?"

"I'll holla at you later baby bruh. Get at me in the morning," Yamin said as he stood to his feet. He yawned and stretched his arms out before walking toward the door.

"Yea, I think I'm a be out too," Aasir dapped Cortez up and followed behind Yamin.

 

That had been 3 months ago. Yamin placed the picture frame back onto the fire place and let out a wearied breath. He could feel the tension in his shoulders and reached in his pocket for a lighter. He removed the blunt he had resting on his ear and quickly fired it up. He intentionally hadn't come to Cortez's home before because he knew it would cause him further pain, but he promised Donica that he would come to retrieve Cortez's financial information. Whether Cortez had been with Donica or not, he knew his brother would never leave her hanging.

       He took the stairs two at a time, and took the first right that led him to Cortez's office. Yamin smiled at the setup. Cortez was a true computer geek and he was glad that he'd forced him to go to college. Cortez obtained his bachelors in computer science this past fall and Yamin had been like a proud parent. He didn't have the time to go to school and Aasir hated school, but he didn't give Aucelie or Cortez a choice in the matter. It wasn't that they needed the education, but to Yamin it would make them that much better than they already were.

BOOK: The Versace League
9.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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