The Dirty Red Series

by Vickie M. Stringer

Red was acknowledged with an accolade of greetings when she walked in.

  A familiar voice spoke to her, too. She looked over at the chair of one of the other stylists and saw Terry, who smiled at her.

  Despite the fact that Red had taped her confessing to the shit she did to her house and tried to blackmail her, Terry was genuinely happy to see an old familiar face. She had turned her life around completely, and she had even managed to forgive Red for all of her slights. It was because of her therapy that she no longer held grudges, and was able to forgive and forget.

  “Hey, Red!” Terry called out.

  “Terry, is that you?” Red asked, surprised. Last she knew Terry was in jail for trying to steal Kera’s baby. “When did you . . .”

  “It’s a long story,” Terry admitted. “When you have time, we can talk about it.” She didn’t want to get into her personal life at the salon. She was already the talk of the streets with what she had done, and people were always trying to get the real story from her.

  Red recalled how Terry looked the last time she saw her. “Terry, there’s something different about you.”

  “I know,” Terry admitted. “I’m happy now.”

  “That’s good. I’m glad.”

  Just as Red turned to walk away, Terry asked, “How’s Q?”

  “Q?” Red jumped slightly. The question had taken her by surprise because she hadn’t thought about him since that fateful day. Not that she didn’t care. It was just a memory she wanted to forget. It would be this nosy bitch who would ask about him, Red thought. “What about him?”

  “I heard that he got shot.”

  “Really?” Red feigned shock.

  “You didn’t know?” Terry asked. “Everyone was talking about it.”

  “I haven’t talked to him in a long time, Terry. We broke up.”

  “Really? Last I remember, y’all were really tight.”

  “I’m with Bacon now.”

  “Bacon? How’d that happen?”

  “I had to go where the money was,” Red admitted truthfully. Bacon did have money but eventually it was going to be hers . . . without him.

  “Girl, you’re still crazy.” Terry laughed. Red was still Red. She wasn’t worried about Q. She made a mental note to let Chass know. “At first I was going to ask if you thought Bacon shot him. You know that nigga ain’t wrapped too tight, but since you are with him . . .”

  “Girl, please, Bacon can’t do nothin’ without me knowing where he is at all times,” Red lied. She shook her head. “No. How would I know who killed him?”

  “K-killed him?” Terry stuttered. “Q’s dead?”

  Red looked puzzled. She didn’t know how to answer that question. “You said he was shot. I just assumed . . .”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s dead.”

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed that, either. I don’t know who could have shot him. I’m surprised. He was getting out of the game.” Red couldn’t believe that Q was still alive.

  “Last I heard he was doing better,” Terry told her. “Chass said he was in rehab and learning to walk again.”

  “Chass,” Red repeated. When Red embarked upon Q’s life, Chass had to go. Q made the decision to be with Red instead of Chass and each woman hated the other. She was fuming that that bitch had snuck in behind her, but she couldn’t tip her hand or let any type of emotion show. She would get even with that bitch, too. Another one to add to my shit list, Red thought.

  Red knew that she would have to go to the rehab joint and see if it were true. So many questions ran through her head. Oh, my God, Q is really alive? Was he questioned by the police, and if so, what did he tell them? Are they looking for me or did he not tell them anything? Red wondered. She hadn’t been too visible lately, so she was certain that nobody was after her. However, her thoughts turned to a different question. Is he going to retaliate against me or does he love me that much that he’s protecting me now? There were so many unanswered questions, so many variables and factors into the equation. I gotta find out what’s really going on, she told herself.

  “Well, I hope that he’s doing okay,” Terry said.

  Red nodded in agreement. She decided that she wasn’t going to tell Bacon about Q still being alive. It would be one more ace in the hole for her. She couldn’t be a murderer if no one died, and if Q wasn’t willing to give her up, then Bacon had nothing over her.

  Just then, an annoying little sound came from the other side of Terry. Red looked down and saw a car seat with a baby in it.

  “Girl, whose baby is that?” Red asked.

  “This is Mekel Jr.,” Terry told her.

  “Mekel Jr.?” Red repeated, shocked. “What are you doing with that baby?”

  Terry laughed. She was becoming used to that reaction from everyone.

  “Girl, are you insane? Please tell me that you didn’t really kidnap that baby!”

  “No, Red! Mekel and I are back together and he has custody of him.”

  “Oh.” Red pressed her hand against her chest. “You scared the shit out of me for a minute. I was about to get away from your ass.”

  Terry laughed, and on cue, the baby let out another strange-sounding wail. Terry exhaled, leaned over and placed a pacifier in his mouth.

  “Are you okay?” Red asked, noticing the stressed look on Terry’s face.

  “Girl, it’s hard,” Terry admitted. “I love Mekel, and I want to be with him, but it’s just hard caring for a special-needs child.”

  “Special needs?”

  Terry nodded. “He was born with fetal alcohol syndrome.”

  “Girl, get out of here!” Red exclaimed.

  Terry nodded. “Miss Bible-thumping Kera was drinking like it was 1999 while she was pregnant,” Terry said.

  “Damn,” Red sang. She looked at the baby, and noticed that he did have a special look about him. “How’s Mekel taking it?”

  “He’s a great father. His son is his life.”

  “I’ll bet it’s a lot of stress on you two.”

  Terry nodded. “It is, but somehow we manage to get through it. Girl, my therapy helps me cope with a lot of shit. Without it, I don’t know what I would do.”

  Red nodded. She was going over to the bank later, and she was going to happily report that she saw Terry with Mekel Jr. She was also going to rub it into that little Bible-thumping wench’s face that her child was a retard.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  You did very well today, Mr. Carter,” his therapist said. “You’ll be walking without that walker in no time.”

  This was the third day that he had seen her and Q looked forward to therapy. It was a nice getaway from Chass but the girl reminded him of Red, too.

  “I’m going to take you back to your room,” she told him, “so I can get my next patient.”

  “No, you don’t have to do that,” he told her. “I want to try to get back to my room by myself. I just have to go down the corridor until I get to the elevator. My room is not that far once I get off.”

  Liking his determination, the therapist spoke. “Sure, but if you feel tired at all, just stop someone. They will call me.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Q slowly ambled his way out of the therapy room and found himself on the main floor of the rehab center.

  He continued to walk with his walker until he was outside, where he stood with his face to the clear blue sky. Q took a deep breath, his mouth open as if he were drinking the sun’s golden wine while his eyes followed the puffy white clouds lazily floating around.

  “Ahhh.” He exhaled deeply. It had been a long time since he had breathed fresh air.

  He had been thinking about what the detective told him when he called Chass on her cell phone.

  “I gotta get that tape,” he said to himself as he stood outside the rehabilitation building hospital.

  He wasn’t that far from his home. Q took two steps and put the walker down. Two steps again, and he leveled the walker. He had to make it to his place
before the detective did.

  • • •

  It took him an hour to walk the five blocks to his apartment building. Very exhausted, Q entered the doors of his building.

  Natalie, the front desk person, recognized him.

  “Mr. Carter? Is that you?”

  “Yes, it’s me.” He slowly walked over to her.

  “I’m glad to see you. And you’re looking quite well.”

  Natalie always had a thing for Q. She didn’t like to see him with Red and she made it known, but she was merely a clerical worker and Q was out of her league. She was happy to see him, though.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Just trying to get some exercise. Came from therapy and now trying to get back into real life, you know.”

  “Yeah, but you can’t overdo it,” she told him.

  “Hey, Nat, has anyone been in my apartment since I’ve been in the hospital?”

  “I don’t think so. The detectives were only here for the first two days, but I think everything is quiet in there. The detective did call and say he wanted to come by and get the videos of that night, though.”

  “Oh yeah, he did say that. He wanted me to watch them with him. You know, to see if there was anything suspicious going down that night.”

  “Well, they’re right here.” She pointed to two tapes. “He’ll get them when he comes by.”

  Q looked at the tapes. “I can take them with me. I know he’ll be rolling through to see me. I can keep him from making the stop.”

  Natalie looked at him. “You sure you can take these?”

  “Yes, it’s fine. I’ll make sure they get in his hands.”

  Helping Q out, Natalie put the two videotapes in the side flap pockets of his sweatpants.

  “Thanks, Natalie,” Q told her. “I owe you.”

  “Just get better.”

  Q smiled and slowly turned around and started on his journey back to the rehabilitation building. He was anxious to see what was on the tapes before the detective got to them.

  • • •

  Within another hour, Q arrived back at the rehab facility and took another ten minutes to get to his room.

  When he got to his floor, he noticed several nurses and other facility personnel walking about frantically.

  “Where have you been?” Chass said as she saw Q step off the elevator. “We’ve been looking all over for you.”

  “I was outside.” He told half the truth.

  “For what, Quentin?”

  He looked at Chass with a questioning face. “I’ve been cooped up for what seems like months and I’ll be here for another three to six months because of this rehab. I just needed some fresh air. Is that okay?” he asked with an attitude.

  Chass was taken aback by how Q spoke to her.

  “Quentin, I was only asking a question.”

  “I know, but just put yourself in my shoes. I needed some space.”

  Chass looked at him. She was still shocked at how he spoke to her.

  “I’m going back to my room,” he told her, “and I’m going to get some rest.” Q walked away from Chass, leaving her standing there dumbfounded.

  When he got to his room, Q was glad that she hadn’t followed him. He gave himself twenty minutes to make sure she was gone. When he was certain she wasn’t going to barge in on him, he took one of the tapes out of his pants leg and popped it into his VCR/DVD combo.

  Fast-forwarding it, he saw what looked like Red entering the building, and then a man. Red got into the elevator by herself, but the man got in at the last minute. Fast-forwarding even more, Q had to stop the tape and rewind. He pressed “play” again. His eyebrows shot up when he saw Red coming out of the stairwell, with a man forcing her out of the building.

  “Maybe the shooting wasn’t in cold blood,” he said to himself. “Maybe she was forced to do this. Damn, Red . . .”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Waiting to board the plane to Mexico, Bacon thought about how far he had come up since Red left him with nothing. He was now rolling stronger than ever. The pure Black Tar heroin that he received from Mexico put him as the front man in the streets. He had more and more hustlers coming to him for the product, so many that he almost couldn’t keep up with demand. Bacon, along with Red, traveled to Mexico twice a month to see his connect, Juan. Seeing just how big Black Tar was, he wanted to become a major distributor and Juan was just the man to help. He needed to get Juan on board with his plan. Juan was the biggest supplier of the product on the East Coast and Bacon knew that he would have to get Juan to load him up with a good supply if he was going to make the major moves the way he wanted.

  • • •

  Red and Bacon arrived in Cancún and headed toward their luxurious leased four-bedroom, three-bathroom private villa overlooking the water. Red quickly became accustomed to the special amenities: concierge services, a complimentary car and access to a private pool, several tennis courts and the putting greens. The villas also had their own spa and massage services.

  Once they were inside, Red stood mesmerized at the sliding glass door at the back of the kitchen and gazed out over the water, enjoying the spectacular view of their getaway. The sundappled sea sparkled blue and serene. It looked magical.

  Bacon watched Red as she stared out over the sea, then he walked up behind her. Wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into him, he spoke. “We’re going to try that out when we get back.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” Red said, taking his hand. She led him to the front door and chirped. “Ooh Bacon, let’s go to L’Chic! There’s something—”

  “Chill, ma,” Bacon said, laughing at her excitement. “I have to meet with my boy Juan first.”

  “Aw, c’mon,” Red protested. “We just got here and I haven’t even been in a store yet. C’mon, Bacon.” She whined like a spoiled little girl.

  He shook his head humorously. “You’ll have to wear something you already have,” he told her. “You have a boutique in that walk-in closet in the master bedroom. And what’s wrong with what you already have on?”

  Red looked at him incredulously. “I wore this for the flight.” She ran her hand down the pink, orange and yellow floral sundress, trying to straighten out imaginary wrinkles.

  “It looks good on you, baby,” Bacon said, pulling her close once again. “You’re going to knock my man dead.”

  • • •

  Bacon took Red to the docks, where a skiff was waiting to whisk them across the sun-spangled water to Juan’s yacht. After a short jaunt across the gently rolling waves, they were escorted onboard by some of Juan’s men. The yacht was a 300-foot Christensen, with five private staterooms, a gym, a theater, a swimming pool, a Jacuzzi and its own Jet Ski ramps and helicopter pad. Red figured that Juan had to be the numero uno head of a major organization to roll like this. She could smell money sweetening the air, and Red wondered if Juan had a taste for caramel chocolate. She could upgrade and get rid of Bacon’s stank ass but that would mess up her plans for him. Perhaps she could see what Juan was about after she exacted her revenge on Bacon, she considered.

  Bacon exchanged handshakes with a short, stout Latino man, and then turned toward her. “Juan, I want you to meet my lady, Raven.”

  Juan lifted Red’s hand to his lips and kissed it gently. “A pleasure to meet you, señorita. I love to have beautiful women aboard my yacht.”

  “Thank you.” Red smiled.

  Bacon exchanged hugs with another gentleman on the boat, and then turned toward Red. “Red, this is my dude Blue. He handles things for me in New York.”

  Red was speechless. Her heart skipped several beats and her palms instantly became sweaty. She swallowed hard suddenly. She couldn’t believe her eyes or her ears. Blue was actually standing before her, and he actually worked for Bacon. By now, her legs began to feel wobbly and she felt the need to sit down, and she definitely needed a drink. Summoning up every bit of willpower in her body, she had maintained her composure, a
nd extended her hand, to him.

  “A pleasure to meet you,” Blue said, not tipping his hand, either.

  Red wondered why Blue didn’t let Bacon know that they knew each other. She wondered why he was holding his cards close to his chest as well. Blue was always up to something, so it couldn’t be for any good reason. She would definitely have to be on her guard.

  “Keep the lady company while Bacon and I go below and talk for little while,” Juan told Blue. “My staff will get you anything you need.” He looked at Red. “Are you hungry, señorita?”

  Red shook her head. “Not right now, thank you.”

  “You let my man know what you want, and they will get it for you,” Juan told her. “My chef is excellent. He’ll prepare anything you like.”

  “Thank you.” Red smiled.

  Juan placed a hand on Bacon’s shoulder and the two of them headed belowdecks. Red turned to Blue.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Blue smiled mischievously. “I work for Bacon.”

  “This is bullshit! Out of all the niggas you could work for, Blue. Why Bacon? Damn!” Red protested. “Does he know about us?”

  Blue shook his head. “I ain’t told him.”

  She eyed him evilly, then shook her head in disgust.

  “So, where’s Sasha?” Red asked, harshly. She still couldn’t believe that he had hooked up with one of her girls.

  “Sasha ain’t my business no more.”

  “Oh really?” Red lifted an eyebrow. “Is that how you do it? Hit ’em and leave ’em?”

  “You left me, remember?”

  “And for good reason. Remember?” Red defended with her hands on her hips. “Did she leave your trifling ass, too?”

  Blue waved his hand, dismissing the question. “Forget about her. I wanna know what’s up with you.”

  “What about me?” she countered.

  “I’m trying to see about you, Red,” Blue said, licking his lips. “You know, I ain’t never had a problem spending big to get what I want.”

  Red nodded. That was true. Blue was the biggest trick east of the Mississippi. He bought pussy like an investor bought stocks.

  “So what’s up, Red? We gonna do Mexico together?”