True to the Game III (8 page)

“I understand,” she said.

In her heart she knew exactly what he was saying. There was no turning back. There was only the forward motion of them together.

Their lips locked tightly as Quadir moved, swiftly covering her body with his. His hands pulled up her shirt as his fingers caressed her breasts. With each breath he took, she breathed in unison, and she could feel his hard penis through his clothing pressing against her mound. He moved his hand down to her pants and unbuttoned them, pulling them down, freeing one leg at a time. How he had gotten his clothes off was beyond her; all Amelia knew was that she was ready. Ready to be with him, ready to make love to him, and ready to be loved by him. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for him, nothing. She had already proven that by saving his life, and risking her career by faking his death.

They made love for hours and when they were done it was as if the memory of Gena had been completely erased. The only thing on his mind was how he was going to get his money back.

Maybe Amelia is right; maybe I should just ask her for it.

Rik hurried into the restaurant, closing his umbrella at the door. The weather outside was beyond dreadful. Rain fell from the sky like a monsoon. Rik took off his raincoat, folded it over his arm, and walked to the maître d’.

“Table for one, sir?” she asked.

“No, I’m with the Santero party.”

“Oh, he’s already here. I just showed him in a minute ago.”

The hostess grabbed a menu and started for the table. “Follow me, please, and I’ll show you to your table.”

She led Rik to the table where his dinner guest was waiting.

“Rik, what’s happening, my man?” Tony rose and embraced him tightly. “Here, have a seat.”

Rik took the seat across from Tony.

“Have the waitress bring us a bottle of your finest wine, please,” Tony told the maître d’. He waited until she departed and then took his seat again. “Rik, my man, how are you?”

Rik shook his head. “Not good, Tony. Not too good.”

Tony waved him off. “We’ll make it all better, my man.”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t worry. Just wait until you hear the proposal we have for you.”

The waitress arrived with the wine and two glasses. “Are you ready to order, sir?”

“What would you like to eat, Rik?” Tony asked.

Rik shrugged. “Um, let me do the filet, medium well, butterfly cut, with the creamed spinach and mashed potatoes. And, also, let me get a Caesar salad to start.”

“And for you, sir?” the waitress asked Tony.

“You know what, I’ll have the filet well done, butterfly cut, but Oscar that with a side of the sweet potato casserole, please. And I’ll take a Caesar salad also.”

“Very well, sir.” The waitress nodded, removed the menus from the table, and disappeared.

“Here is what we have in mind,” Tony continued. “Twenty keys a week. We front you half, you pay for the other half up front. You don’t have to pay for the front until the following week when we drop you off another ten.”

“Damn. That’s sweet.”

Tony smiled. “I told you we’d take good care of you.”

“Good, because I’ma need a little help.”

Tony lifted an eyebrow. “What kinda help?”

“I’ma need an extension on what I owe you.”

Tony recoiled. “An extension? What kinda extension?”

“Well, really, I was hoping that you could spot me some dope, and let me work off what I owe you.”

“Work off what you owe us? Are you telling me that you don’t have the money, Rik?”

“I got busted, Tony. You already know this. The cops hit my stash house and found the shit.”

Tony looked down and shook his head gravely. “That’s not our problem, Rik. You know how we operate.”

“Man, that shit was beyond my control. I got busted. Man, c’mon.”

“Rik, I know the way my uncle thinks. His first question is going to be, if the cops found the dope, then why are you out on the streets? That’s a question that you don’t want him to ask. Because he’s not going to understand all of the legal technicalities involved. The first thing that is going to come to his mind is that you’ve rolled over. And that would be something that would be very bad for you.”

“I didn’t roll over; you know that. I would never do nothing like that. They threw the case out because the snitch turned up dead.”

“But you’re saying that they found the dope.”

“Yeah, in a house rented under a fake name. They couldn’t trace it back to me; they just knew that me and the homeboys met there sometimes. That’s what got the house raided. But they couldn’t put the dope on any specific individual.”

Tony smiled. “Rik, my uncle’s old school. He ain’t gonna understand all of that legal mumbo jumbo bullshit. He’s gonna want his money, or he’s gonna want you in prison because of that dope, or he’s gonna want you dead.”

“Man, I’m not trying to fuck over anybody. I just need more time, and some more work to get it all back to you.”

“Do you hear yourself? You’re asking for more work, without paying us for the work we’ve already given you. After you’re telling us that you got busted with that previous work, but you’re still out on the streets. Do you hear this shit?”

“You know it’s true.”

“Rik, we are men, aren’t we? Let’s talk like men. Because there is much truth that you speak, and I believe you, Rik. If I didn’t, we wouldn’t be sitting here. But this is the problem, Rik. Quadir fronted you a lot of product before he was killed. Do you remember that?”

Rik thought quietly for a moment, knowing exactly where Tony was going with his conversation.

“And for what I know, Quadir passed to you at least two hundred keys, my friend, at least that much, maybe more. And you paid little to nothing back. Quadir died and you walked with all that coke and all that money. Rik, now you have nothing. Wow, my friend, you had it all. You had it all.” Tony exhaled and shook his head. “Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to pretend like we never had this conversation. I’m going to pretend like I haven’t gotten around to picking up the money that you owe us. I’m going to stall, and try to buy you a little time. In the meantime, I suggest you do whatever the hell it is that you need to do to come up with that money. My uncle is not going to understand. If I can’t collect from you after a certain period of time, he’s going to send a fucking hit squad over to wipe the streets up with your ass; it’s nothing personal, just business. Get the money.”

Tony rose, pulled out a wad of money, and threw several hundred-dollar bills onto the table. “Enjoy the meal. Then go home and get some rest. You look like shit.”

Rik lowered his head into his palms as Tony disappeared.

He knew that he had to come up with the money, and he knew that Tony was serious about what his uncle would do if he didn’t. He just needed time. A little bit of time, and a little bit of dope to work. He could hit the streets and make miracles happen, if only he had a little bit to work with.

Rik scratched his head. Truth be told, he didn’t know how much time he had.
I wonder how long Tony can stall his uncle. Even if I had some coke, I might not have the time I need to flip it. No, I definitely need to pay Tony. But how? I need some major coins to build my stash back up and get the Santeros off my ass.
Rik knew that he would have to dust off his pistol and jack someone.
Damn, who’s holding these days that I might stick?
Most ballers like that had an entourage and bodyguards. And none of them would let him borrow that kind of dough.
Hold up; wait a minute.
A light suddenly went off in his brain. Actually, he did know someone who would let him borrow that kind of dough. She had offered it to him once before. There was no doubt that she would offer it again.
Gena; she’s holdin’ all Quadir’s loot. She’s the one, the missing piece to my puzzle.

Rik sat back and smiled as the waitress delivered his meal. Everything was going to be all right. He knew exactly where to get the money from to get those fucking Barranquilla Colombians off his back. The only question was how he would get it.
Should I just ask her or should I just jack her?

Resurrected

G
ena listened as Quadir finished his story. Still dazed and unable to believe that Quadir was alive, Gena couldn’t help but think about the series of unfortunate events. Meeting Jerrell at that gas station was the worst thing that could have happened. What was worse was that he was Quadir’s enemy, the one behind killing her beloved Quadir. He was nothing more than a monster.
How could I have been so stupid?
Gena couldn’t help but blame herself. Just then she thought of the baby she was carrying—Jerrell’s baby.
Quadir must not ever know that I’m pregnant. What will I do?

“So, you’ve been staying here, getting well?”

“Yes. Amelia brought me here after I was released from the inpatient rehabilitation center at the hospital. Now, I have physical therapy here and I go to outpatient treatment.”

“And Amelia, where is she?”

“She’s at work. She’s always at the hospital.”

“So, you said that you and her became involved after you saw me and Jerrell together.”

“Gina, listen . . .”

“No, Quadir, please, just answer me. You are involved with her, right?”

Quadir was silent, trying to figure out her angle. He honestly didn’t understand her line of questioning, but the look on her face told it all. Her entire world had crashed all around her the night he died. Now, it would crash again when she learned that he was not only alive, but also in love with someone else.

“Answer me, please. Please tell me the truth, please.”

“Yes, Gena, yes. I love her.”

“You love her?” Gena asked, as tears began to stream down her face. She broke down, seating herself gently on the end of an ottoman that was next to a chair. “I don’t understand, I just don’t understand. Why, Quadir, why? Why’d you do this to me? Why? I thought you loved me, please, I would have never been with Jerrell. I didn’t know who he was, please, Quadir. I don’t know what to say,” Gena said, trying with all her might to hold back the tears that just seemed to flow down her cheeks. She wanted to be strong; she wanted to have an ounce of pride. But she had none. The man she adored and loved more than life itself was standing there confessing that he was in love with someone else.

“I mean, what is there really left to say? You and Jerrell were together, or at least you were with him,” said Quadir, full of frustration.

“Oh, my God, I can’t believe what you’re saying. I just can’t. It can’t be this way. It’s not supposed to be this way, no,” she said, freaking out, shaking her hands in the air, trying to find the reason for everything that was happening.

“Gena, please calm down . . .”

“No, don’t tell me to calm down. You were dead, Quadir, gone. Why would your mother throw me out like that, if . . . did she know?”

Quadir stood still, knowing what his mother had done.

“Listen, Gena, my moms did what she had to do. She was only trying to protect me.”

“Protect you? Protect you? Are you serious? That’s your answer? You just let her throw me out like that, with nothing. You left me with nothing. You died, and now you’re back, but you’re back and you don’t want me anymore because of Jerrell, and I can understand that. I can understand it all. I see it all real clear. Fuck me, right? Fuck me, right, Quadir?” she yelled at the top of her lungs, ready to break something.

“Gena, please, it’s not like that. It’s not like that, really.”

“Then what could it possibly be like?”

“You don’t understand; you’re too emotional to understand right now . . .”

“Please, Quadir, please, just leave me alone,” said Gena. They both stood in silence as Amelia’s BMW pulled into the driveway. The garage door opened and then they heard it close.

“I guess that’s her. Amelia, the most fabulous doctor in the world. The doctor who brings people back from the dead. Wow, she must be something, really something. Not only does she save her patients, she fucks them too,” said Gena as she began to make her way back to her room.

“Gena, wait, listen . . . Please, Gena, there’s something I need to tell you; please listen to me, it’s important.” Quadir followed her as she slammed the guest bedroom door in his face.

“Tell it to yourself!” Gena screamed, opening the door. “No, better yet, tell Amelia,” she said, slamming the door in his face again.

She ran over to the phone on the nightstand and called a yellow cab.

“Hello, yes, ma’am, I need a taxi.”
Fuck, I don’t even know where the hell I’m at.
“Never mind,” she said, hanging up the phone.

Gena searched the room quickly for her clothes. She dressed, quietly crept down the stairs, and climbed out an open window in the library. She snuck away before Quadir and Amelia knew she was gone.

Terrell walked briskly through the park, trying to make it to his meeting place and wrap things up before the rain started coming down again. He hated the weather this time of year, especially when it got locked in a rainy cycle. It was one of the reasons he had left the city. He hated the rain, and even more so, he despised the cold. The weather in his new city was as different from this shit as night and day. He had relocated to beautiful, sunny South Florida, and he loved it. He had vowed never to set foot in the city of brotherly love again, but now, business had forced him to come back. He had flown in to avenge his younger brother.

Champagne pulled up to the park in her black S600 and backed into a parking space. She hated meeting Terrell; he was worse than his twin brother. At least Jerrell had a little bit of sense about him, even a little bit of class, compared with Terrell. They were both cold, heartless men, but Terrell was a straight-up animal. He was a brute, with no sense of social grace, no understanding, no limitations, no nothing. He followed his most basic instincts, as if he were a hyena or lion or some other wild-ass animal. The bad part about Terrell was his attitude. The penal system ate him up a long time ago and even though he had not been locked up for more than fifteen years, he still had an institutionalized mentality. He didn’t give a fuck and he didn’t care. He never would, just like most men who served time.