“Where’s my money, bitch?” Zeke said.
“What money?” Red was caught off guard.
“Cut the bullshit,” he demanded, pushing past her into the loft. “I know about the check you gave Q, and I’ve waited long enough.”
She looked at him quizzically. Zeke knew what she was doing, but stopped her. “Don’t play dumb with me.” He walked up on her and coughed in her face. She could smell a strong alcohol stench coming from his pores. She now knew where he got his brazen attitude . . . he was drunk. “Since you got so much, I want six times what you owe me.”
Red took a step back and put her hands on her hips. “Six?”
“You heard me, bitch. I ain’t stutter. Fifteen for the money you owe me and fifteen for almost getting my man killed.”
“What you gotta do with that?”
“I wired him money while y’all was on the run in Mexico. Thing is, bitch, my man don’t run. He was tryin’ ta protect yo’ ass, so I want that, too . . . plus interest.”
Red smiled and shook her head.
“Fuck you smiling for?” Zeke asked, angrily.
“The fact that you want me”—she pointed to herself—“to give you”—she pointed toward him—“thirty g’s.”
Zeke grabbed her wrists. “And I want it now.” He looked at her and she jerked her wrists away. “If I don’t get it now”—he narrowed his eyes then took his index finger and traced the outline of her breast—“I’ll take something else, then tell Q you broke me off. I can always come back for the money.”
“Broke you off? You outta your fuckin’ mind! He won’t believe that shit.” She turned to walk away but Zeke pulled her to him and bit her on the side of the neck, hard.
She screamed, clearly stunned by his actions. “Get yo’ hands off me!” she spat with venom.
Zeke’s cell phone began to ring. He looked at the display and smiled. “Well, look what we have here,” he jibed. “It’s Quincy.” He showed Red the caller ID. “I wonder how he would feel if I told him I was at his crib alone with you. He’d come home and see that big-ass mark on your neck. Now, with your reputation, who would he believe . . . me or you?” His phone stopped ringing. “I ain’t leavin’ here until I get what I came for.” Zeke sat down on the love seat and stared at Red. He coughed a couple more times.
He’s right, Red thought. Q wouldn’t believe me. He’d take this nigga’s word over mine and I’d be back at square one. Think, Red, think! “You know what,” she proclaimed, “I ain’t got time for this bullshit.” She walked out of the living room and into her bedroom. Her head was pounding and she needed to get something to stop the migraine that was forming.
Opening the medicine cabinet, she located some Tylenol for migraines, but her eyes quickly diverted to the small clear bottle next to the package.
Red smiled, uncapped it and put it inside her waistband. She then opened the bottle of Tylenol, took two out, and placed the package back into the cabinet. Walking out of the bedroom, she passed Zeke again.
“You got it?” Zeke asked. He began to make funny throaty noises, like he was trying to suppress a cough, but couldn’t.
She walked into the kitchen and retrieved two bottles of water out of the fridge. She opened hers and took the Tylenol. Once she returned to the living room, she handed Zeke a bottle. “You may need this.” She heard him cough a few more times.
Zeke opened the bottle and began to drink. He immediately put it down as the water went down the wrong way. Red rushed to him and sat on the arm of the love seat as she started to pat his back. As she did that, she took her right hand, retrieved the small bottle from her pants and squeezed all of the clear liquid into the water. Once his coughing attack began to subside, she handed him his water again and he drank the rest of it. Red smiled as she saw the liquid disappear from the bottle and down his throat.
“Let me get my checkbook,” Red said.
“Checkbook? Bitch, do I look like a bank? I gave you cash, I want cash in return.”
“Okay. Damn, Zeke!”
“Naw, as a matter of fact, fuck it.” He picked up his phone. “You stallin’.” He began to punch in numbers.
“Who the fuck you callin’?”
“Q.”
“Wait, Zeke,” she said in a panicked tone. “Stop. You’re right, I was stallin’.”
Zeke began to breathe heavily, and Red’s anxiety began to subside. It’s working. “I was stalling because I can’t let you fuck up what I have.”
Zeke was now in distress. He couldn’t breathe and his body was starting to convulse. Red watched on calmly. He reached out toward her as if she were his lifeline.
“You should have left well enough alone, Zeke, but this is what you get when you threaten me.” She grabbed the two water bottles and their caps, made sure she had the empty Visine bottle and shoved everything in her purse. Zeke struggled to say “help me” during his gasps for breath, but Red walked out and left without bothering to close the door.
CHAPTER 17
Red drove away from the building in the Lincoln Navigator she’d rented upon her return to the States, hoping that Q did not return home anytime soon. Her adrenaline pumped high. She wanted Zeke to be dead or damn near dead before anyone found him. Driving for a few minutes Red began to come to her senses. She pulled over on the side of the street because her heart began racing.
“Should I go back?” she said out loud. She answered her own question: “No, Red, he was going to blackmail you. Why do people want me to act this way?” She began crying. “I’m trying to change, I’m trying!” She screamed out loud, put her hands up to her face and cried profusely.
After minutes of tearful torrents, Red reached into her side console and pulled out a travel pack of Kleenex. Pulling down her sun visor and looking into the mirror, she dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. Her eyes went to the big red mark that was starting to show on her neck. “That son of a bitch!” She held her head up, exposing the left side of her neck to get a good look at it, and then sighed. “Damn, Zeke! I didn’t wanna hurt you, but I can’t lose Q . . . for you or anyone.”
Red gathered her composure, focused on the present and what she needed to do. The first course of action was to find Gloria. Once she got the check situation straightened out, she and Q could just leave. Start a new life somewhere else. “Yep, that’s the answer. Find Gloria.” She looked one more time in the mirror before flipping the visor back up. Red saw the faint mark of the cut on her nose, courtesy of Bacon. The deep wound of humiliation wouldn’t heal until Red did something about it.
Over the last couple of days, she had been inquiring about Bacon but nobody had seen him or heard from him. Red wasn’t sure of his whereabouts but she had to know.
• • •
Red arrived at Schottenstein Realty, hoping to catch Gloria. She noticed a lockbox on the front door. Perplexed, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Gloria’s number. The blare of a recording reported, “The cellular number you have called is no longer in service. Please check the number and dial again. Message 3492.”
Red redialed and received the same message. Her heart started racing. What was going on? She thought back to the last time she saw Gloria—
“Oh, my God! The closing! Lord, please—”
She climbed into her car and sped off to the title company. All sorts of thoughts rushed through Red’s mind. Please don’t let Gloria be in jail for some of my fraudulent real estate deals. Red thought back to the closing, then back to the check. Gloria had vouched for her like a soldier, but Red would die if she was locked up all because of her. “My relationship with Q will be as good as over if I don’t get this shit settled,” Red said out loud.
• • •
“Good morning, Ms. Gomez,” the cheerful blonde receptionist chirped.
“Good morning, Heather,” Red read off her name badge. “Is Mr. Perch in?”
“Please, have a seat. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
“Thank you.” Red wal
ked away from the reception desk to the water cooler. She put the small Styrofoam cup under the spout and pushed the blue button to dispense cold water.
“Ms. Gomez, he will see you now,” the receptionist spoke just as Red put the cup up to her lips.
Red tossed the full cup into the trash as she made her way back to Mr. Perch’s office.
“Good morning, Kevin,” Red spoke.
“Raven,” he acknowledged. “You’re looking quite spectacular.” He pointed toward the seat in front of his desk. “What can I do for you today?”
“My commission check for the sale of thirty-one-twenty-four Colonnade Drive. I’ve tried to deposit it, but—”
“Right . . . right,” Mr. Perch said, cutting her off. “Unfortunately, the sale of the property has been reviewed by an attorney and the sale isn’t valid.”
“What do you mean, not valid?”
“We were forced to put a stop payment on your commission check. Apparently when the documents were reviewed by the closing office, they were found to be incomplete.”
“Excuse me? I’ve been doing this for two years, what do you mean incomplete?”
“Something about the identification of the sellers. They had your identification and signature. However, they had no identification for the other owner, only a signature. They need that person’s photo ID.”
“What?—This is . . . Where’s Gloria?” Red demanded.
The man paused for a moment and looked at her.
“Where is Gloria? You so paper perfect but you deaf!” Red quickly jumped up and an angry scowl plastered her face.
Mr. Perch flinched. He hadn’t expected this reaction from her. “Raven, I’m sorry to tell you this, but Gloria died a couple of weeks ago. Breast cancer.”
Red stared at him. Mouthing the words “she died,” Red fell back into the chair and tears suddenly began to flood her eyes. The next thing she knew she broke down and wept uncontrollably. Gloria had meant so much to her. She was the one person in her life who had believed in her. Gloria was like the mother she’d never had.
Mr. Perch gave Red the chance to gain composure on her own. He knew he couldn’t console her; after all, she and Gloria were tight. Moments later, he spoke up. “I know it’s hard to believe she’s gone. We all miss her . . . Anyhow, she left something for you.” He opened the drawer and handed Red a large white envelope. She opened it: there was a letter addressed to her, along with other material. She pulled out the letter and read it.
My Dearest Raven,
If you’re reading this letter, it means I’ve gone on to a better place. My heart was broken when my husband died, and then you came along. You gave me reason for living and were the daughter I never had. You and I were a great team, but I still had that void. True love never dies.
Raven, don’t cry for me. Live for me. I’m at peace and with my husband.
As promised, here are the keys to the office and lockbox. The business is yours, if you want it. Just sign the paperwork and make me proud.
I love you,
Gloria
Red looked in the envelope; all of the papers were in order for the transfer of the business, along with the keys, as well as her broker information. Red dried her tears and presented the contract to Mr. Perch.
“Well, Raven, looks like you have expensive shoes to fill.” He smiled at her. Gloria wore nothing but the best and she expected the best.
“I’m speechless,” Red confessed. “She meant so much to me.” Tears began to fill her eyes again.
“And you meant a lot to her.” He handed her a pen and Red began signing the papers for her new business. After she signed the last page, he watched as she got up and walked toward the door. “Raven?”
She turned around to address Mr. Perch. “Yes?”
“This is what Gloria wanted. I know you won’t let her down.”
“Thank you.” Still feeling dazed, Red walked out of the door.
As she left the title company and drove to Schottenstein Realty, thoughts of Gloria flooded her mind. Once Red arrived, she used her keys to unlock the lockbox. She trudged into the quiet establishment and remembered what it was like. Gloria didn’t have a lot of agents, but it was a close-knit family. Red didn’t mingle much with her counterparts, but she and Gloria had their own special bond. Gloria believed in success at any level. Red remembered Gloria’s motto: “Your reputation is all that you have in life, and all that you need in this industry.” That translated easily into real life. Reputation and perception go hand in hand.
As if drawn on an invisible string, Red walked into Gloria’s office and saw that nothing had been touched. All of her pictures, licenses and awards were on the wall. She sat down behind the desk and picked up a picture of Gloria and her husband, Sherman. True love never dies; she remembered the letter, and Gloria’s words. Fingering the couple’s photograph, Red could see how happy they had been together. All of a sudden, she wondered if she could ever be that happy—or would love always elude her because of her sordid past? Could she and Q get through all the lies and tricks she’d played on him? The fake pregnancy; the real one and not knowing who the father was; tricking him into buying the loft . . . it just seemed so minor to her.
But the check. He’s gonna think I’m playing some type of game because I can’t cash the check. Shit!
• • •
Q’s curiosity got the best of him. His mother told him that she’d seen his ex-girlfriend, Chass, and gave him the business card she had given her. Since she didn’t like Red’s shady behavior, his mother didn’t see anything wrong with trying to open her son’s eyes.
Remembering Chass brought a barrage of emotions to Q’s heart. They were together all through high school but their destinies were different. College called her; the streets called his name, loud and clear, introducing him to another world and a different caliber of women. Even though Chass was pretty enough, Q had access to nothing less than dime pieces and then along came along Red.
Q felt bad about how he left things with Chass, because she was with him when he had nothing, but from the looks of it, she’d made something of herself. She was now an attorney.
Should I or shouldn’t I? Q wrestled with his emotions after looking at the card for several minutes. She can either talk to me or hang up.
He dialed the number and waited for someone to answer.
“Public Defenders’ office, how may I help you?”
“Chass Reed, please.”
“May I tell her who’s calling?”
“Uh . . . tell her it’s Quentin Carter.”
After about fifteen seconds, he thought, I can’t do this to Red. Just as he was about to hang up, a sweet-sounding voice on the other end answered.
“Quentin?”
“Hi . . . um . . . yes, it’s me.” His playa status was shot to shit. She caught him off guard.
This was an awkward time for Q. Chass wasn’t just a notch on his belt. He truly cared for her at one time.
“I was hoping your mother would give you my card.”
“Yeah . . . yeah, she did.” Silence. “Well hey, it looks like you doin’ good for yourself. You a big-time attorney now, huh?”
“Not big-time yet,” she laughed. “I got out of law school not too long ago.” An awkward silence filled the air. “I’m working on a case here, then afterward, I’m going home.”
“Home? Where’s home?”
“New York.” More silence. “How’s Zeke, Quentin?” Chass knew many of Q’s friends, especially Zeke.
“He ain’t change much, still the same crazy-ass Zeke.” They both laughed.
More silence.
“Quentin, I gotta go but I’d like to see you before my case is over.”
He thought about it for a moment. “I’d like that,” he said. He hung up the phone after exchanging numbers. On his way back to the loft he called Zeke and left a message. “Yo, you’d never believe who I just got off the phone with! Hit me back!”
• • •
<
br /> Red sat in Gloria’s office torn up over what she had done to Zeke. Having committed a treacherous act against Q her emotions played tricks on her. Would he be better off dead or alive? Shit, I’m not the one who decided that, she convinced herself. He did. It was his choice. At least if he’s dead, he can’t talk, but if he’s alive, then . . . Red shook the thought out of her mind.
She’d already called a sign maker to put up the name of the new ownership—Gomez Realty. She was determined to carry on where Gloria left off. Unfortunately, she would have to watch her spending until she made more money. The $1.6 million check was no good, and she only had a little over $200,000 in the bank. For someone like Red, that could be gone in a heartbeat. Red thought back to what was said at the title company.
“Unfortunately, the sale of the property has been reviewed by an attorney and the sale isn’t valid.”
“What do you mean, not valid?”
“We were forced to put a stop payment on your commission check.”
But what’s up with the property? she thought. If the transaction is null and void, that means the property is still in my name . . . and Bacon’s.
CHAPTER 18
It was Friday afternoon and Big Will’s Barbershop was packed. The hum of clippers tightening up the latest styles could be heard while raucous laughter and jonin’ filled the air as two young cats battled in Smackdown vs. Raw on the PlayStation 3. Some enjoyed the videos on 106 & Park on the wall-mounted plasma TV while others were tuned into a DVD of Farrakhan delivering one of his powerful speeches.
Q sauntered in after deciding not to go home right away and was greeted by many of the patrons.
“What’s up, my brotha?” Big Will acknowledged, then picked up another set of clippers and began to tighten up Mekel’s taper.
“What’s up?” Q said as the two men exchanged a dap. “How many ahead of me?” Q looked around at the men in the shop.
“Just Mekel here.” Big Will knew and called each of his customers by name. He felt that doing so would promote brotherhood and unity among black men in the community.
The Dirty Red Series Page 32
