The Score

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The Score Page 18

by Kiki Swinson


  I swear on everything I love it was taking everything inside of me not to run up on Lauren with my burner and blow her fucking head right off her shoulders. Besides there being too many witnesses, I knew it would be wise to wait. I knew she didn’t have the money on her but I also knew that it had to be very close. Sometimes it felt like I knew Lauren better than she knew herself. I took her in when she was just a teenage girl looking to be taken care of. I watched her become the woman she is today, so it baffled me why she thought she could ever get away from me after she stole my fucking money.

  I watched her every move until Daysha showed up and picked her up. My body felt hot all over watching that Lauren’s smug ass saunter toward her car like she was a fucking celebrity. She walked like one of those rich chicks that didn’t have a care in the world. She probably felt like it too. I’m sure Lauren most likely thought I would never have a reason to be near the airport and that she could dip in and out of town without me ever finding out. The fucking joke was on her. Little did Lauren know she was about to be sitting in the car with Daysha—the worst traitor since Sammy “The Bull” Gravano.

  I snorted and shook my head left to right in disgust. Lauren looked real good in all of her designer threads, with her head and eyes covered like some high society, black version of Jackie O. She was always good at fronting like she had it all together. Most people admired her but I knew the real Lauren Kelly. The Lauren Kelly who was thrown around from one foster home to the next. The Lauren Kelly whose mother was the neighborhood ho and back-alley-sucking-dick crackhead. Lauren was one of those chicks that I considered the lowest of the low in the hood. I had only chosen her because she was gorgeous and most of the niggas in the hood wanted her but couldn’t have her. At first it was a competition thing for me, but I can’t front, I fell in love with her after a while. I had bitches back then that were real high class, not fakes like Lauren became. I had chicks who went to college, had degrees and were professionals. They might’ve been attracted to me for the money I had at the time, but so was dirty-ass Lauren. I was so furious now that I didn’t realize I was gripping the steering wheel so hard the veins in my wrists were cording against my skin. There was no anger worse than a broken fucking heart. I see now why niggas ended up doing life behind a chick. Some say it was ego but I say that it was truly being heartbroken that men couldn’t handle. I was feeling that shit right then.

  “If you run up on the bitch right now you’ll never get the money. All you will end up with is a life sentence. Stick to the fucking plan. Go home, smoke a blunt, and chill until you get the call from Daysha,” I grumbled out loud to myself. It was taking a lot of convincing because my trigger finger was itching.

  I watched Lauren throw her bag in Daysha’s backseat and get into the car. There was a bit of a pause before Daysha’s car pulled away from the airport’s pickup curb. My hands were itching against the steering wheel and my foot was tapping on the gas pedal. “Don’t do it. Don’t do it.”

  I sucked in my bottom lip. I had to exercise great restraint to keep myself from pulling out behind that fucking car. The way I was feeling, there was no telling exactly what I would’ve done to Lauren. I was liable to bust shots into Daysha’s back windshield, which would’ve only landed my ass back in the clink. I sat there staring and thinking until I could no longer see any traces of the car.

  When Daysha’s car was fully disappeared from the airport, I sent Daysha a quick text message:

  Yo, I’m heading to my condo. Make sure you hit me when she gives you a hint about where the money is. Don’t slip up.

  I pulled out of the airport and turned up some Rick Ross in the rental. I needed something to keep me calm, but also keep my head in the game. All of this shit was almost over. I would have the money soon and Lauren’s ass would be in the morgue.

  Back at the condo I couldn’t rest. I tried all types of shit to make my mind relax. Even a full blunt of the best bud in Virginia ain’t do that trick. My nerves were on a wire’s edge and my whole body still hurt from the beatdown I got from those strange dudes. I could not sit still to save my life.

  First, I paced Buddha’s condo at least ten times going over the plans in my head incessantly. I rearranged shit in my closet and made a pile of the shit Lauren had left behind so I could burn it later. I counted the money I had took from Ryan. I rolled a couple more blunts for my reserve stash. None of those things could stop my imagination from running wild about what was going on with Lauren and Daysha. I must have checked my cell phone every minute since I had gotten home. All of this hard-pressed, stressing behavior wasn’t me. All of these years I had prided myself in always being cool under pressure. I was a boss so why the hell was I acting like a straight-up bitch?

  “Yo, nigga, you straight trippin’. You a boss, nigga. Shit is going to work out,” I told myself. Even I couldn’t convince myself that everything was going to be all right. By the time I finished moving around the condo like a crazy person I was sweaty as hell.

  I went and took a shower to calm myself down. As I got out of the shower I heard my cell phone ringing.

  “Oh shit!” I huffed, breaking into a run to get the phone from my nightstand.

  “Hello?” I wolfed into the phone. “Hello?” I said again. There was no voice on the line but I could hear background noise and breathing. My whole body went cold. The last time I answered the phone and got no response, I got jacked and almost torched. This couldn’t be happening a second time—this had to be a coincidence. I racked my brain for someone who could be playing this silly phone game.

  “Yo, stop fucking playing, whoever this is. I can fucking hear you breathing, you stupid-ass cunt,” I barked. My damn nerves were too touchy for games at that moment. I hung up the call and looked at the screen. Unknown. I had been getting mad unknown calls and the person just always breathed into the phone but didn’t say shit. Honestly, I thought for sure it was Yancy this time. It was like I just couldn’t get rid of that crazy bitch.

  “Fuck!” I cursed. I slumped down on the couch and flicked on the TV. I needed to find something funny to watch so I could shake the edgy nerves and the bad mood I was in. As soon as the TV screen came on, the news was the first thing popped up. Just as I was about to change the channel I heard some shit that caught my attention....

  “In a story we have been following for three months now, police say they may finally have a break in the case of three million dollars that was stolen from the bank account of local businessman and community activist Nikolai Kudrin. Police believe the masterminds behind the missing money are a drug dealer out on parole and a high-tech hacker. Police report that their break came after a cooperating witness, who claims to know the man pictured here, came forward this week. A suspect has been identified as forty-one-year-old Matthew Connors. The cooperating witness identified him, but does not know his exact whereabouts. Based on information they received, the police also report that in a bizarre twist in the case, twenty-five-year-old expert computer hacker Ryan Stiltsky was found dead in his Baltimore home. Police believe his death may be directly linked to the stolen millions. During the homicide investigation into Stiltsky’s death, detectives also uncovered electronic evidence—some type of electronic diary Stiltsky kept—that linked Stiltsky to the crime. The evidence also points directly to Connors. Police report that with the help of the cooperating witness they hope to close in on Connors, but they are still looking for tips on locating him. If you have any information regarding the whereabouts of the suspect, please contact the Norfolk Police Department’s crime tip line at 1-800-LOCK-U-UP.”

  Yo, it was like a bomb had just exploded in the room. The reporter’s words resounded like firecrackers in my ears.

  “Ain’t this about a bitch!” I sprang up on my legs like a jack-in-the-box. I literally had to pinch myself to make sure that I wasn’t trapped in some crazy-ass nightmare. I couldn’t believe that my fucking name and picture were floating around on the news. But, worst of all, I couldn’t believe that
police were calling me out as the sole suspect. I don’t know how they figured it out, but since they did, how could they not know Lauren was involved? How did that bitch manage to get away free and clear?

  This score was supposed to put me on top, but at every turn it looked like I was digging my own grave. I looked around the living room, suddenly paranoid. The cops were on to me, so I had to be careful. They could come crashing in the door any minute to drag me back to the pen. Crashing at the condo Buddha had set me up in was now more than temporary housing—it was my hideout. It would take the cops a while to go down my list of known associates and question everyone about my whereabouts. By the time they dug in and tracked me to Buddha’s condo, I planned to be long gone.

  “Argh!” This could not be happening to me right now. Not when I am so close to catching this bitch Lauren and getting all of the money back. This shit could not be happening!

  “Argh!” I growled again, sending the TV remote crashing into the wall across from me. “I can’t fucking win!” I howled. “Argh!” I swiped everything off the coffee table onto the floor and then like the Incredible Hulk I hoisted the entire table up and threw it over onto its side. “Argh!” The bookshelf went crashing to the floor. I sent more things flying across the room and into the walls. I went on a rampage tearing the condo up until I was finally exhausted.

  I stalked to the bedroom and plopped down on the side of the bed. I put my head in my hands and squeezed my scalp. I had to think now. The more I thought, the more I could see my world going up in flames. I was a wanted man and my name plus my face was all over the news. The news report played over and over in my head. The news reporter had said the police have a cooperating witness, which in the hood means a fucking snitch. In my assessment, that could only be one person . . . fucking Yancy. She was the only person alive, aside from Lauren and me, that knew about the lick.

  “That bitch. I will kill her, too,” I huffed.

  I knew I should have at least tried to make shit right with Yancy two weeks ago when she came by the condo to tell me she was pregnant. I couldn’t process that information at the time. I was looking dead at her swollen stomach but I couldn’t even grasp the fact that the baby was mine. I guess it was a knee-jerk reaction when I had told her that it wasn’t no fucking baby of mine and that she better go find the trick she had gotten pregnant by. I knew it was wrong when I was saying it, but I couldn’t help it. I was wrong for dissing Yancy like that, but after Lauren lost our babies I had completely given up on being a father. When Yancy brought that shit to me, I was just thrown off. Losing those babies with Lauren had really hurt ’cause I had always wanted a seed of my own. Now, chances were I was going to be a father for the first time and I would be on the run and never see my seed at all. All of this stress had me contemplating putting my own gun in my mouth and pulling the trigger.

  As I sat there regretting ever getting involved with Yancy, my cell buzzed with a text from Daysha:

  I’m downtown at lunch with her now. She’s talking about going to the place alone and then bouncing. She hasn’t mentioned the money. I think you might have to show up at the place or else you chance missing her. I can only stall her for so long. Get here now.

  “Fuck!” I growled. I text Daysha back.

  Yo, 5-O is looking for me right now so I’ve got to lay low until dark so I can make my getaway. It’s all over the news. You might want to ditch that bitch in case the suits are looking for her ass. Yancy snitched. I’ll catch up with you later.

  There was no way I could get caught right now after what I’d heard on the news. I was positive the cops would be swarming around that assisted living place, thinking I might come through there with Lauren. The entire plan to get Lauren’s ass back and to get the money back was a bust. Now, I was going to have to wait for it to get dark, take what I had left from my raid of Ryan’s safe, and bounce. Leaving Virginia Beach was my only option right now, but that was going to be real hard with the good and the bad guys searching for me.

  “You really put me in a fucked up position, Lauren. After all I did for you, this is how I end up . . . on the fucking run for my life and for my freedom. Even after all of this a nigga stayed having mad love for you, but not now. Consider yourself lucky that I couldn’t confront you today. I swear they would be tagging your toe had I gotten to see you up close and personal,” I spoke through my teeth aloud as if Lauren was standing right in front of me. All I could do was hope that I could make it out untouched.

  LAUREN

  I downed my third mojito with the hopes that it would lighten my mood or at least help to change the tense atmosphere I was in. It didn’t work. Trust me, I could have used about ten more drinks with the way I was feeling at that moment. It was hard enough being back in town without all of the added little stress from Daysha.

  Lunch with Daysha was painful to say the least. We were barely conversing. I really had nothing to say to her after her little remarks in the car about my miscarriages, so there were long bouts of silence between us. When there was conversation it seemed forced and strained. I thought I would be excited to share news about my new relationship with Drake, but I had completely shut down on her.

  Daysha, who usually runs her mouth nonstop, spent most of the time texting on her phone and whipping her head around like that shit was on a swivel. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve said Daysha was acting like she was expecting someone to come join us. If I didn’t trust her so much her suspicious behavior would have had me thinking she had called Matt down there or some shit. Nah, I knew Daysha hated Matt so I wasn’t worried about that.

  When Daysha wasn’t looking around all crazy suspicious, she was undressing me like one of the hater chicks we always talked about back in the days. Even without asking I was sure Daysha probably knew which designer had made every piece of clothing, the shoes, and the bag that I wore that day. It was disgusting how she was acting.

  As soon as we sat down earlier, Daysha had made a comment about my Chanel purse. “Damn, bitch, that’s the big-boy Chanel. That’s about ten Gs, right? Must be fucking sweet, whatever you’re doing for loot,” she had said. I had ignored her. Thank goodness our waitress had come over to break up the tension. Then, Daysha kept it up. She was like, “Mmm. Mmm. Ms. Lauren Kelly the superstar. Life must be treating you good you out here wearing a Balmain skirt and them new Loubs that ain’t even hit the stores down here yet.”

  Okay, I couldn’t ignore her snide comments anymore. I crumpled my face in disgust and shot her an icy glare.

  “Girl, please. You know we like nice shit so why you acting like that? You ain’t looking too shabby. New Gucci bag. New Michael Kors sneakers. True Religion jeans. Romeo and Juliet top. I mean we always been about the fashion so what’s the problem today?” I had shot back at her. Daysha tried to laugh it off like she had only been joking. I didn’t return the fake laughs with her. I was trying to make it through lunch so I could ditch her ass anyway.

  Now, I shoveled a forkful of my teriyaki salmon into my mouth and looked across the table at Daysha. Of course she was in the middle of texting or receiving and reading a text, I should say. I watched Daysha’s eyes go wide. She looked over at me and cracked a phony, nervous smile. Then, once again she was looking over her shoulder like she was afraid someone was after her. I sucked my teeth. She was getting on my nerves. As a matter of fact, she was making my damn nerves bad. I had had enough. I looked at my watch and decided it was time for me to go. But, first, I needed to ask Daysha what the fuck was up with her. I would hate to leave things with my best friend with tension if she needed to say something to me. I loved Daysha like a sister.

  I dropped my fork and finally asked, “You a’ight, Daysha?” I just couldn’t take the phoniness and tension for another minute. “It just seems like things are different between us. I’m not sure if I did something to you or what,” I said, looking Daysha dead in her eyes. Daysha averted her eyes from mine and lowered her head. She picked up her fourth Hennessy an
d Coke and threw it back. It was like she was trying to use the drink as liquid courage or something. Daysha opened her mouth like she was about to say something, but just then our waitress interrupted to ask if we were okay.

  “Yes, we are fine,” I said, cracking a fake smile. I turned my attention back to Daysha. She was looking over my shoulder like she was distracted by something behind me.

  “Okay . . . so back to my question. I need to clear this up before I’m gone again,” I said to her.

  “I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be back, Lauren,” Daysha said, abruptly cutting me off. I opened my mouth to say something but Daysha quickly got up and rushed from the table, leaving me there alone. I folded my face into a frown. Suddenly, it was like a lightbulb went off in my head. Daysha was definitely expecting somebody.

  I was a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them. I slowly turned around in my seat and I spotted the first dude staring at me. He stood out in the restaurant like a sore thumb. He was tall with low-cut hair and was wearing a dark suit. Definitely not the type of dude you’d see in a local chain restaurant. I turned back to the table and noticed another dude, dressed similarly, staring at me too. What the fuck? Nah, not more than one Men in Black nigga in the same place. Something is up, I told myself. It was time for me to bounce. Clearly, I was going to have to dip out on Daysha.

  I slowly dug into my purse and pulled out two one-hundred-dollar bills. I threw them down on the table. My heart was racing. My hands were shaking. I wanted to wait for Daysha but she was taking too long. I slowly stood up, picked up my purse, and slid it on my shoulder. I was trying to play it cool but my legs were trembling with fear. My steps were kind of unsteady. My waitress rushed over. I guess she wanted to make sure I wasn’t bouncing out without paying my bill.

 

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