Dazed, Terry walked up to the hospital and looked up at the front entrance as if she had forgotten why she was there. Passing through the lobby, she didn’t bother to stop when the lollipop-sucking receptionist asked, “Can I help you?”
Terry stepped it up as the elevator doors almost shut in her face. Standing nervously in the rear, she spoke to the man closest to the buttons.
“The maternity ward, please.”
The man obediently pushed the button marked “Maternity.”
Terry walked to the nursery and joined the spectators. The newborns lay in glass bassinets in the front of the window. She found the bastard, wrapped in a blue blanket with a snug hospital cap on his head. His name tag identified him as Baby Simmons: eight pounds, two ounces. She noted how the baby’s eyebrows crossed his forehead, making a fuzzy bridge over his nose in the exact same way Mekel’s did. Terry was more upset than ever. There was definitely no chance that Kera had lied about the paternity.
Small beads of sweat formed on Terry’s nose, and she felt tears glazing her eyes. As the reality of the child lay before her, it made her furious. Terry forgot all about being a mother herself. She saw the baby as nothing more than a mere obstacle to her road to happiness. She would be there with her man, living happily ever after, she reasoned, if it weren’t for this child.
The kid has to go, she thought.
As visiting hours came to an end, and the hospital’s hustle and bustle began to slow, Terry never took her eyes off the child. Her stare was so intense, an overweight grandmother asked her, “Honey, is anything wrong?”
“N-n-n-no,” she lied. “Just looking at my nephew.”
When another stranger noticed her and commented about her standing in front of the nursery for more than thirty minutes, Terry realized she had to hide before anyone else saw her. She didn’t see Mekel, but she knew he was there, celebrating the birth of his first child. Terry stowed away in a nearby storage closet next to the nurses’ station. Around seven o’clock, visiting hours ended and the nurses changed shifts. Inside the closet, Terry heard Mekel’s and Red’s voices floating from the hospital corridor. She had forgotten that Red was supposed to visit.
Shit, Terry thought, that damn Red. What if she tells them I called her ranting and raving?
Sure enough, as Mekel and Red walked down the hall, she heard Red telling Mekel to watch his back.
“Mekel, that damn Terry called me, and she was pissed.”
“Red, you told her that the baby was bo—”
“Hell, yeah, nigga. I told her that y’all done had yo’ baby, and I was coming to visit.”
“Fuck, Red. You know she’s a crazy bitch.”
“Nigga, please. Just watch yo’ fuckin’ back.”
Terry peeked out; as soon as she saw the nurse leaving the nursery and the new nurse checking the log, she swiftly made her move. She hurried out of the closet and into the nursery, lifted the baby and got away undetected. She laughed under her breath, trying to control her hysteria.
With the baby tucked under her arm, Terry picked up her pace as she made her way to the door marked “Exit.”
She held Mekel’s baby tightly to her bosom and tried to burst through a side door to make her escape. Without warning, blaring sirens suddenly went off, causing the child to cry and Terry to become more nervous. Sensing that she had been caught, she dropped the baby on the concrete floor and jetted for the adjoining stairs.
Fortunately, the hospital had installed alarms for this very type of situation. Lunatics tried to kidnap children every day, and at Scott Memorial, it wasn’t happening. Security was on Terry before she reached the bottom step of the stairwell. Hidden cameras in the nursery had caught her running away with the infant. A silent alarm had alerted hospital staff even before she’d reached the side door.
The next thing Terry knew, she was under arrest for attempted kidnapping and was headed to jail.
CHAPTER 24
What If
With trembling fingers, Bacon dialed his lawyer’s office to discuss his appeal. His heart pounded as the phone rang. Finally, when the receptionist on the other end of the line answered the phone and accepted his call, he blew a sigh of relief. Something in his gut told him he would soon be free—to handle his business in the streets and restore some order to his chaotic life.
He had to settle the shit that happened between Red and the bitches who killed his child. He also had to see what the fuck was up with his book and, more important, his money.
“Yes sir, Mr. Stein has been waiting for your call.”
The receptionist actually sounded happy to hear from him. Bacon held the receiver, listening intently. He breathed deeply, keeping his anxiety to a minimum.
“Young man, I’ve been waiting for you to call.” Stein cleared his throat before continuing. “I wanted to speak with you before I send you the paperwork.”
“Yeah, what’s good?” Bacon asked, trying to be nonchalant.
“Well, we’ve looked over the appeal and—oh, please hold for a moment.”
Bacon began to get impatient as he leaned against the cold cement block wall, watching as the other inmates waiting for the phone grew annoyed.
“Sorry about that,” Stein said, returning to the line as if he hadn’t missed a beat. Although he was irritated, Bacon knew not to let his lawyer know.
“Cool. And what? Tell me something good.”
“You’re free,” Stein said. “You won the appeal.”
“When? What? When do I get out? My God. Man, thank you!” Bacon screamed, dropping the phone for a minute.
“I’m sending the release paperwork.”
“Can you bring it to the jail? Please, man. I’ll pay you whatever. I just got to get out of here.”
“In that case, I can bring it tomorrow. With some signatures and processing you’ll be out in a matter of days. Say, the end of the week.”
“Thank you. Thank you.”
“It wasn’t so hard. The eyewitness was a flake, and well, they overturned your conviction. You’re a free man.”
“Well”—Bacon’s excitement was quickly replaced with coldness—“hurry up and get yo’ ass here. I better see you first thing in the morning.”
Bacon couldn’t believe his ears. It took him a minute to shake it off. Here he was, trying to put a hit on Red, when in a matter of days he could handle her himself. He slammed down the receiver and walked away from the phone, hoping, praying that Foxy came to visit. Now more than ever he needed a friend on the outside.
• • •
Pacing, Q knew what he had to do, and it had to be done clean. Breaking up was hard to do, and even more devastating when it was with someone he truly loved. Q had been holed up in his new loft, which he was supposed to be sharing with Red and their child, and the emptiness reminded him of how his heart ached. It pained him to think of Red, and as the days went by, he became mad as hell and even madder at himself for caring so much.
He knew he could recover from this bullshit, but he didn’t know if he wanted to. During the last five days or so, he’d tried to make sense of it all. He tried to rationalize that he was really a true-blue nigga and the loss of his girl and the baby that wasn’t really his had him fucked up.
Q knew that not to be totally true. He understood that a man loves the child through the mother. That was why when men didn’t go near the child, most often it was based on the poor relationship that the male had with the female.
Even with the relief of not having a child to tie him to Red, he still felt connected to her. He began to think about the time when Red surprised him wearing a beautiful black lace dress with her back out as she walked down her long staircase. She’d pulled her hair into an updo with kiss curls hanging down and finished the outfit with a pair of strappy stilettos. She had flashed her bright smile, and his heart had immediately melted. He had extended his hand to her and grabbed her waist, gently kissing her on her forehead, telling her she looked gorgeous. They’d left the house t
o attend an R. Kelly concert.
After hearing so much about bumping and grinding, Q knew he was going to get some pussy that night. The thought of that night and how Red looked still made his dick hard. Could it be that he had, indeed, truly fallen in love with Red?
• • •
Mekel clutched Kera’s hand as they watched baby Mekel through the glass of the nursery. The tiny tubes inserted in the baby’s nose and the beep-beep of monitors was a sick sight to the first-time parents. They had no idea how their baby was doing. He lay still and lifeless, and Kera’s knees began to buckle underneath her.
There was a fifty-fifty chance of the baby coming out of the coma induced by the fall. Even if he survived, the chance of brain damage was great.
“The good thing is that the baby was healthy and of good birth weight,” the doctor said to them in the hallway.
Mekel tried his best to calm Kera and to keep himself from crying as well.
Red stood by in shock, more at the fact that Mekel really cared about his child and how he was all over Kera than at what Terry had done. Red watched as Mekel held Kera and kept her close to him. He even grasped her hands with his. He spoke sweet affirmations, giving them both something to hold on to.
Red tried her best to comfort them, but she was sinking into her own private depression. She had a good man but fucked it up. Her scheming went too far, her farce was uncovered too early and ultimately she had nothing to show for it.
Q wouldn’t take Red’s phone calls, and his silence was killing her. Calling to curse her out would have been better than saying nothing at all. That way she’d hear his voice and get a chance to say the three words to him that she had never said.
“I love you,” Red said out loud to herself more than to anyone else.
When Red left the hospital, all she could think of was Q and how she wished she could turn back the hands of time. She would love Q with all her heart. She would trust him.
Then her mind turned to Bacon. She could no longer take satisfaction in knowing that he had no idea about Q or the money she had stolen from him. As far as she knew, he was falling into her plan and had no idea how much of a pawn he really was in Red’s life game of chess.
Leaving through the hospital’s front door, Red saw that the police still had Terry outside as a spectacle for all to see. She looked pitiful.
Dumb bitch, Red thought.
From the police car, Terry glanced over at Red and her face lit up with hope until Red met her eyes with a cold glare and turned away.
Without looking back, Red climbed into her car and headed east on I-94. The radio was turned to an old-school station and “Ooo Baby Baby” by Smokey Robinson & the Miracles played. As Smokey crooned the words, “I did you wrong,” a tear streamed down her face.
She thought of the quote, The saddest words of tongue and pen are the words, it might have been.
• • •
As Terry was driven away, handcuffed in the back of the police car like a common criminal, she thought of the fate of her own children for the first time in days. What will they do without me? she thought. Terry buried her face in the vinyl seat and sobbed.
The two cops in the front seat just shook their heads. They had seen desperate people; every day, in fact. But baby thieves were the most pitiful.
In the backseat, Terry continued to cry. She couldn’t stop. In her heart, she knew she had thrown her life away, all over a man.
• • •
Q showered and stepped into his Egyptian-cotton robe. The first thing he was going to do was sell the loft. After all the hustling he did to buy it, it was time to let it go. There was no longer a need for the place. Q passed the baby’s room, and once again his heart ached, seeing how the nursery was all decked out. In his mind, he kept hearing words like scandalous bitch echo over and over. Once again he had gotten got by another trick-ass, triflin’ ho.
At first Q wanted to make Red suffer for the rest of her life by taking away everything she thought she’d gained. He even considered ruining her name in the streets so no other muthafucka would go near her, yet he knew she wasn’t worth it. With age came wisdom, and he wanted to get revenge on Red in a way that would last her a lifetime. He wasn’t going to yell and scream or beat her ass. He simply planned to walk away.
Q had gotten out of da game with money to burn, thanks to the encouragement of a “wifey” and “family,” and he planned to stay free.
At the same time, he knew there was no way he was going to escape the jaws of prison after all his years of hustling if he stayed in da game, and he wasn’t going to turn around and go to jail for murdering or maiming a bitch. No, he was simply going to give her a playa’s revenge.
No words, no drama. He was going to cut her off from what he knew to be her life supply. He was going to let her go. Just as the invention of the wheel changed the world, Q knew he had been the best thing in Red’s life.
Q had come into Red’s life to bless her. He knew she was foul, but he just never credited her with being triflin’.
• • •
Bacon watched as Foxy, dressed in a Gucci dress with matching shoes, settled in to visit him.
“What can I do for you? You got ten minutes. I hate this place.” Foxy glanced over her shoulder.
“Foxy, can you keep a secret?” Bacon asked.
“A secret? Of course I can. You wanna tell me one?”
“I need somebody I can trust.”
“Okay.”
“I’m coming home earlier than everyone expects, and I need a place to crash. Can I stay with you?”
Foxy looked Bacon’s buffed body up and down and smiled. “Of course, Daddy. When you coming?”
• • •
Foxy drove home, anticipating her next move to prepare for Bacon. As soon as she dropped her keys on the kitchen table, she reached for Bitch Nigga, Snitch Nigga and began to read where she’d left off. It was something about that book and Bacon coming home that left her feeling creepy.
Foxy felt like the only person who could have written it was Catfish or Bacon.
She was itching to talk to someone to see if anyone else knew how Bacon beat a murder rap and was coming home, but she didn’t want to blow up her spot by spreading gossip. As tempting as it was, Foxy was going to keep Bacon’s secret. Instead, she put on her pajamas, got into bed and read the rest of the book that just might have the answers she was searching for.
• • •
One week and a day after Foxy’s visit, Bacon stepped up to her front door. She took him in and caught him up on all the latest street gossip. She mentioned every dirty little thing that Red was involved in except the baby. She also advised him on the street game and who was hot and who wasn’t.
A week after that, Foxy put the moves on Bacon. She knew he was going crazy with no pussy, and Foxy was the closest thing to pussy he could get.
She put on some soft music and began by rubbing his shoulders to loosen him up. She then began gently trailing her tongue down his back to the crack of his ass. She licked his asshole, stroking it back and forth before moving her tongue toward his dick.
At first, she teased him, only stroking his head, then she began to swallow his dick like it was a lollipop. After several minutes of her giving him head, Bacon turned her over and fucked her in her ass with the speed and power of a jackhammer. His breath was heavy and constant, and Foxy was screaming like a cat. As they climaxed, Bacon’s body shook like an earthquake, and he moaned before flopping on the bed.
• • •
Driving Foxy’s Cutlass, Bacon pulled into the parking lot of Triple Crown Publications. The building was impressive. The outer walls were made of reflective glass, and it sat on thirty acres of land with a pond in the front, near the entrance. A lion sat on either side of the door and the letters “TCP” and three crowns gleamed at the top of the building.
Even though the building was nice, it was not as impressive as the checks Bacon was supposed to receive. Bacon thoug
ht of the office manager and her smart-ass comments. He thought of the owner and how she was never available to take his calls.
Stank-ass bitch.
He also thought of how millions had been made off his books while he sat rotting in a jail cell.
Stealthily, Bacon scaled the rear fire escape to the second floor window. Looking twice over his shoulder, he shattered the nearest window with the butt of his nine millimeter and tossed the Molotov cocktail he’d brought with him inside.
As soon as it hit the floor, the crude bomb exploded into flames. Bacon leaped down the fire escape and jumped back into his ride. As he drove off, the building erupted into flames.
On the nightly news, the reporter said, “The only thing left standing of the Triple Crown Publications office is the three-tiered crown on top of the building.” The reporter pointed to the rubble; the crown now stood on top of a heap of ashes. Bacon had burned down TCP.
Tears streaming down her face, the owner, Jennifer Nicholas, stood in front of the camera, near the rubble. The reporter wondered who would do such a horrible thing to such a fantastic urban publishing house, and why.
Ms. Nicholas shook her head. “I have no idea. If anyone has any information, please call the police department.”
Bacon stared at the TV screen, thinking, They know why.
CHAPTER 25
Amazing Grace
Mekel bowed his head and before he knew it he was praying. For the first time in his life, he took control as a man and went before God for his family. Squeezing Kera’s limp hand, he pressed his forehead against the back of her hand. Although his lips hardly moved, he prayed out loud.
“Dear Lord, I know I haven’t been much of a man, but you have blessed me with a son to rear into a man in this world. God, if you would please let my son live, I promise to serve You all the days of my life.”
The Dirty Red Series Page 19
