Getting into Detroit was probably the trickiest thing we had to do. Legacy hired a theatre makeup artist to transform our appearance, and we created fake identities. We were transformed into three African women coming to Detroit to visit family over the weekend. We were given fake IDs and fake fingerprints to match. The lace front I had to put on was the most uncomfortable thing I had to wear, but the artist really did a great job. I couldn’t even recognize myself.
Before I left Miami I made contact with Vinny. I had to. By touching down in Detroit I knew I’d be putting the Italians in the line of fire with the Dominicans by gunning for Khiron. Once informed of my intentions, Vinny arranged for the three of us to get picked up at the airport. When we got inside the limo I smiled once I saw who the driver was.
“You get around, don’t you?” I asked.
Victor’s response was a wink as he pulled away from the crowded airport. He explained that he was taking us to a home that Ray had secretly built a few months before his murder. It didn’t even have an address. After driving for an hour we reached where the house was hidden in the woods. I tried my best to pay attention to direction so that I remembered how to get to and from the house. My eyes watered instantly when I saw it. I had to breathe deeply to keep from choking up at the memory in my head....
“I’m gon’ move Grandma Rae out of the hood one day,” my sixteen-year-old voice told Ray.
Ray laughed and rubbed his facial hair from where he sat on the bed in my bedroom.
“Grandma Rae isn’t going anywhere, shorty. Her soul is in this house, you know that.”
We were sitting in my room, watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air before he had to hit the block again. Usually he spent his downtime in the room that he had in the basement of Grandma Rae’s house, catching up on his sleep. However, that day he had decided to come and kick it with me for a little bit.
“I’ll make her,” I said matter-of-factly. “I’m not going to leave her here. I’m going to move her into my dream house. Three stories, finished basement, home movie theatre, a three-car garage, and I want the inside to be classy. None of that tacky stuff that rich people be doing just because they have money.”
“Classy, huh?” Ray mocked, raising his eyebrow at me.
“Yes, classy! I’m serious, Ray!” I laughed at his facial expression. “And I want it to be made of brick.”
“Yea, ’cause trying to move her from this house is going to be like moving a ton of bricks,” Ray chuckled. “All right shorty, I got moves to make, so I’m finna be out. You straight? You need some pocket change?”
As he spoke he pulled out a rolled up stack of hundred-dollar bills and peeled two from it.
“No, I don’t need nothing,” I said, letting him know I didn’t need any money. One of my feet was dangling off my bed and it brushed against a box of merchandise I secretly sold. Everything from designer purses and shoes, I had it to sell. “I keep money.”
“I feel you, shorty,” Ray gave me a knowing look and kissed me on my forehead. “I love you. I’ll see you later.”
I remembered watching him walk out of the house with a swag that let the world know how sure of himself he was. I also remember wanting to prove him wrong, I would move Grandma Rae out of the hood. Or so I thought—I never got the chance to. Still, the house before me proved that Ray believed me after all. I stared at my dream home and an overwhelming feeling washed over me.
“Say, you okay?” Devynn asked me, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“I’m okay,” I whispered and turned my head so she wouldn’t see the tears threatening to fall from my eyes. “I’m okay.”
As soon as the vehicle was all the way stopped I was the first one out of it. Before I could walk up to the door Victor reached his hand out of his window so that he could hand me the keys. Clenching them in my hand, I walked slowly to the front door and tried to look inside. The stained glassed windows made that impossible. Not able to contain my curiosity I unlocked the door and walked through it. I didn’t take two steps before I felt Adrianna’s hand on my shoulder, holding me back. Both she and Devynn had their guns drawn when they stepped around me to scope the house out. Once they were done making their rounds they came back to where I stood in the foyer, telling me nothing seemed out of place. After that I relaxed a bit and went on search for something I knew Ray had built within the house, the artillery room. I knew my cousin like the back of my hand, because it didn’t take me long to find it. I knew he wouldn’t make it easy for just anyone, it was in a hidden room behind a wall in the basement. Looking at all the weapons in that room, an outsider might have mistaken Ray for a terrorist. From automatic guns to grenades, Ray had it all. He wasn’t going to put me in a house with only the burner on my hip.
In the garages, there were already three cars. There were two Mercedes CL600 coupes; one black and one white. For Mocha and me I was sure. There was also an all black Hummer; Ray’s Hummer. It was shiny like it had been cleaned, and I felt like a part of me was born again. I knew Khiron had probably torched Ray’s Escalade, but the Hummer was his second baby. It was all mine now.
Devynn, Adrianna, and I devised a plan on what was going on with the new kingpin of Detroit, and any information on his business dealings with the Dominicans. It was Adrianna’s idea to bug Mocha’s house, but it was my mission to complete. And I had completed it without getting her blood on my hands. Now all that was left to do was to be patient and wait.
Chapter 8
It had been a week since Mocha had seen or heard from Sadie, but it didn’t matter. Just the knowledge of her survival gave her a strange feeling of peace. It gave her more hope than the stash of money building under the boards in her tiny bedroom. Mocha lay silently in her queen-sized bed watching the sun shine through her open blinds. She didn’t have to look outside to know that Khiron’s guard dogs were watching her house. During the day she never had any motivation to get out of the house and do anything because she knew Khiron’s goons would be close behind her. She felt like a child on a short leash. Khiron made it his business to try and keep a close eye on Mocha and at the same time, he tried to keep her out of the loop.
Mocha pretended to not know anything that was going on around her; however Khiron must have forgotten who she was. She noticed everything, especially when it came to him. He was so unpredictable that she wanted to see any curveball coming from a mile away. He was truly a Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde kind of man. She couldn’t count how many times she had planned to murder him when he came to her home, but she was too much of a coward behind him. He made her feel weak the moment he was in her presence. He had her mind gone, and although she did have a gun, she knew one wrong move would mean the worst for her.
At first after he killed Ray a major drought overcame the city because nobody was getting any money. The product going around the city was horrible, and many customers complained that the high didn’t last. Even the most loyal customers turned to getting high off of other drugs because of the low grade of cocaine Khiron had at first. That was something that changed quickly, though. Mocha didn’t know the specifics, she just knew that somehow the Dominican cartel had stepped in and offered Khiron a permanent place in their business. Mocha remembered hearing him on the phone talking to his right hand man, Tyreek, and telling him that Don Rivera promised to supply him with whatever he needed as long as Detroit was his main venue of business.
As time progressed, she started to see his operation grow into something much bigger than even he thought it would be. Slowly but surely, the movement in Detroit was reborn, except it was different. Khiron had gone back to the old ways of the kingpins before him. He set up trap houses around the city and had his boys on the corners of every block. It was known that Khiron was the one who had murdered Ray, so it wasn’t hard for him to get the people to go along with his movement. It was the rule of trade, everyone knew that when the current kingpin died, the throne was up for grabs. But he didn’t make that possible for anyone else. Soon, ther
e wasn’t a major drug capital that didn’t know Khiron’s name. He was known as the man who had brought down the kings, and for that, the streets didn’t know whether to respect or to fear him.
Mocha noticed the change in his evil demeanor, and it was apparent that he was relishing in Detroit. Her city. The more money he got, the more sadistic he became. The man she fell in love with was dead and gone, only to be replaced by the devil himself. The only time Mocha saw him was when he needed arm candy to compliment his outer appearance or when he wanted some pussy from her. Whichever it was, her nights always ended the same, alone once more in her room. He always told her that if she tried to run away he would find her. And when he did, the fate he would subject her to would be worse than death.
In the distance the faint sound of her door opening caught Mocha off guard. Alarmed, she sat up in her purple bedding because she knew that Khiron was the only other person who had a key. Straining her ears toward the sound, she hoped that she was just imagining things. She wasn’t. The sound of footsteps were clear as day, and they were heading straight toward her bedroom. She hurried to lay back down and tried to force her body to go limp. She clenched her eyes shut and listened to the footsteps until they found their destination. Her room door creaked open and she tried to even her breathing. When she felt the person’s presence get closer to her bed, she pretended to give the illusion of a deep sleep.
“You don’t have to fake sleep, shawty,” a deep voice that didn’t belong to Khiron said. “It’s just me.”
Mocha’s eyes shot open when she recognized the familiar Georgia accent and sighed her relief.
“’Reek! I thought you were still in Atlanta!” Mocha stood up from the bed to face Khiron’s right hand man.
“That nigga called me back, we have some business to handle,” he smiled kindly down at her, flashing his pearly whites.
Despite the cruelty Khiron showed her, Tyreek still went out of his way to be good to her. He still treated her the way he did when things between she and Khiron were good. When Khiron left bruises on her body, he was the one bringing the medical attention in to nurse her back to health. Through all of the cruelties from Khiron, Tyreek was the only source of kindness that she received. No matter what the circumstances were, he never looked at her any differently, or so it seemed, anyway. She didn’t know if he was being genuine or if he was just trying to keep an eye on her for Khiron. Maybe he just flat out felt sorry for her, but either way she was grateful. Mocha caught him staring at her a couple of times, but the look in his eyes was always one that she could not read. They didn’t hold the normal thirst of the usual man that eyed her, but seemed more intrigued.
Mocha looked down and saw he was holding a few shopping bags. She stared at the tall, chocolate man before her and a smile crept to her face. He rocked a brush cut and had a strong jaw bone structure. His eyes were a deep, chocolate brown and his lips were pink and full. She wondered what they would feel like pressed against hers. He was dressed casually in a pair of Robin jeans and a silky white V-neck. She wanted to ask him why he was so good to her when his right hand man treated her like scum, but it wouldn’t have been her first time asking it. He always gave her the same answer.
“You’re not a bad person, shawty,” he would say.
Instead, she tore her eyes away from his handsome face and nodded toward the bags.
“For me?” she asked, and he set them on the bed for her.
She ripped into them and found three gorgeous designer dresses with three matching pairs of heels. Once she saw the items she rolled her eyes and sighed heavily. She already knew what they meant. She placed her hand on her hip and cocked her head in annoyance.
“When does he need me, Tyreek?”
“In two days,” Tyreek said, looking into Mocha’s flawless face and admiring her beauty.
If circumstances were different, he knew that Mocha would have been wife. Not his wifey, but the woman with the ring. He had been in love once, and the lifestyle he lived was what had gotten her killed. Tyreek knew he would never have to worry about that with Mocha, she handled her own. He knew about her, that is why she had earned mad respect with him. She was everything that he wanted in a woman. Mocha was thorough and they would have been great together. Unfortunately, that was a line that neither one of them could or would cross. Since he rocked with Khiron, Mocha was the enemy, which meant he was supposed to hate her, too. But he couldn’t. He would never be able to respect her decision to sell her loyalty for love, but he understood why she did it. The thought of a life including never-ending money, without having to lift a finger, was enticing. That’s the dream that Khiron sold her, and she had used her last dollar to buy it. The way Khiron had her living was the worst torture to someone of Mocha’s caliber. He might as well have just killed her.
“Who is he meeting with?” Mocha asked, holding one of the dresses in the air from where she sat on her bed.
“Don Rivera,” Tyreek said.
The dress instantly dropped from her hands at the mention of the head of the Dominican cartel.
“What?” Mocha asked, wide-eyed.
Mocha knew that the Dominicans gave Khiron mad work, but she also knew that Don Rivera rarely left his comfortable home in Azua. Khiron usually did business through Robert, Don’s trusted informant. Once Robert came to Detroit he proved just how far Don’s reach was. Within a day the Dominicans had the city on lock, and Khiron’s business ventures began to flourish. The Last Kings was something of the past, and Ray’s name was one spoken with caution in his own city.
“Yes,” Tyreek confirmed. “The Dominicans are looking to expand their work. The Italians are still flourishing greatly, even without The Last Kings operation. In a war, that’s not good. It must be something big, though, ’cause dude never leaves his house.”
“Two days?” Mocha shook her head. “Where?”
“You know I can’t tell you that, Mocha,” Tyreek said reminding Mocha of his allegiance to Khiron. “Just be ready at seven o’clock on Friday night. A driver will be by to pick you up.”
Mocha stared into his face blankly, trying not to give off any emotion. She knew something he didn’t know. Ever since Mocha saw Sadie it felt like she was walking on eggshells, wondering when she would strike. She felt hope, but she also felt fear, simply because she knew that Sadie would show no mercy. It felt like the days were being numbered, but she knew she deserved to die. However, Tyreek, who had been so good to her, didn’t deserve death. He was just loyal to the wrong side.
“Okay,” was all she said, and Tyreek gave her a strange look.
“You good?” He asked.
He knew she would say yes even if the answer was no. Khiron was a twisted man. Instead of killing Mocha he was tempting her to kill herself. Everyday he wanted her to wish herself to death, and that was a torture fit for no one.
“Yea,” Mocha answered, wondering why he was still there. “Was there something else you wanted?”
She stood up from her bed so that she could take the dresses and the shoes to her closet. Tyreek silently watched her. The cotton shorts she wore accented her thick hips, and for just a second he let his mind wander. He wondered how it would feel to pin her down and drill into her. He wanted to know what her voice would sound like calling his name. He smirked at her and shook his head.
“Nah,” he said. “I’m out. You have my number if you need me. I’m in town until Sunday.”
“Khiron is here too?” Mocha asked, even though she knew if he was in town Tyreek wouldn’t be at her house.
“Nah,” he said again. “He’ll be here tomorrow, though.”
Fuck, Mocha thought as she waved good-bye.
When Mocha heard the door shut she sighed to herself. She went to peek out of the window and saw Tyreek’s car driving off. She almost smiled, but then she saw the all-black Mercedes Benz parked in its usual spot across the street from her house. Clenching her teeth, she forced herself to take a deep breath as she glared at the car. She tho
ught about the favors she had to trade to get them to let her free for a few hours in the night and wanted to throw up. The things they made her do for her freedom proved to her that she was never free. She could run, but she knew Khiron would find her. The only vehicle she had was registered to him and nobody came to Mocha’s house if he didn’t know them. She knew the only way Sadie knew to come to the house when nobody was standing guard was if Sadie had been watching her for a while. Either way it went, her life wasn’t hers. Stepping away from the window she walked over to her dresser with a purpose. Kneeling down, she reached under it and felt around until her hand located what it was looking for. Wrapping her fingers around the butt of the gun she yanked her hand back, breaking the object back from the tape that held it in place. It was a gun that she had purchased in secret. It didn’t mean as much as the pistol Ray gave her that she’d left at Grandma Rae’s old house, but it made her feel safe. She stared at it in her hand and thought about what she was about to do. It was time to just end it all. All of the hurt, but most of all, the suffering. She slowly brought the loaded weapon up to her temple with her right hand and placed her finger on the trigger. Mocha knew that with one jerk of her finger it would all be over.
She had never really thought about death because she was too busy living. There was still so much that she wanted to do with and in her life. Yes, it was true that Mocha loved Sadie like a sister, but at the end of the day Sadie wasn’t her sister. No matter how welcome Sadie and Ray tried to make her feel, it didn’t change the fact that she always felt alone. Mocha didn’t talk about her feelings much, so of course Sadie didn’t know how Mocha really felt. She never wanted to be a part of a drug cartel, but she went with it because of the money that was involved. The plan was to get in the game for a little while. Just until she had enough saved up to do what she wanted to and live comfortably as well. Everything changed when she met Khiron. She fell in love, and in a twisted way she still loved him. It hurt her that he couldn’t see past his past to see that her feelings for him had been genuine. Yet she knew that this was just how the game went, and there was nothing that she could do to change it.
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