by Tiana Laveen
As he pulled out of the parking space, she turned to him, the bag cradled between her knees, and whispered, “Phoenix, will I ever get to speak to or see my mother again?”
He paused, looked at her for a moment and answered, “The life as you knew it is gone, along with everyone who was in it…”
The next day…
The plane ride was rocky—turbulence, the pilot called it. She’d ridden planes all over the country; pleasure trips were a treat but typically her travels were work-related, involving business ventures with Gable. This plane ride wasn’t unsettling just because of the choppy air and a brewing storm. The whole thing seemed to mean so much more, marking a journey that would end her life as she’d known it. She and Phoenix sat side by side and at one point she found herself gripping his big hand as the plane made a fast dip, causing many passengers to gasp and murmur amongst themselves.
Astonished at her act, she snatched her fingers away from his and looked out the window as the wheels emerged from beneath the cabin in preparation for landing. According to the pilot, they were in Baltimore, a city she’d visited once before for a field trip during sixth grade. She recalled very little of the place, except the trip to see ol’ Abe, the Lincoln Memorial at the National Mall. She smiled at the memory.
Soon after that trip, everything had fallen apart, her world shattered. Shaking herself back into the present, she regarded Phoenix, her heart filling with a deep rage and resentment for him, herself, and anyone else she could think of.
A couple of times she contemplated speaking up, saying something to garner attention to the fact she was not a willing passenger, she was there under duress, but then she remembered—she was no longer a hostage.
At this point, there was no going back; home was gone and she had better accept it.
Home had become hostile. She and Gable, the dynamic duo, had become a thing of the past. There would be division in the streets. People would take sides—some possibly believing she’d been kidnapped and killed. Conspiracy theories and speculation would abound. A number of people, though, would suspect the truth to be far worse, darker, dirtier and rotten than anything their imaginations could muster.
“Let’s go.” She was shaken out of her deliberations, not even realizing they’d landed. They deplaned and navigated through the thick crowd of people in the airport. When they exited, a shiny black limousine pulled up, and a male driver greeted them. Phoenix ushered her towards the vehicle without so much as a word and helped her inside. When he sat down beside her, he immediately closed the privacy partition window, opened a drawer, and retrieved a shiny, black Glock 19. As he moved, she caught a whiff of his cologne… He smelled so damn good.
After the trim up he’d had at the hotel that morning, he also looked like a fucking king. She tried her damnedest to not pay him any mind, but Phoenix was fucking sexy.
Oh, how she hated herself for the ill-timed attraction. From his jet black wavy hair to his icy blue eyes, broad shoulders, 6’3 frame, and big ass feet in designer shoes, he was a sight to behold. She’d never trusted her love for dangerous, powerful men, bad creatures who wished her no good. But this one had taken care of her a smidgen, in his own little way. A doctor had come into their hotel room that morning, and the woman had examined her before they’d headed off to the airport. She’d drawn her blood, taken a swab sample from her mouth, checked her blood pressure, ears, eyes, and mouth, and given her a full physical. When she was done, she told Phoenix she’d send the test results to him after a few days.
All good stuff, but those exams would never reveal her current mental state. The man had crushed her.
As they rode for a few minutes, she took in the view, trying desperately to not concentrate on the mess of her life, but it was no use. The scent of cigar smoke filled the cabin. Phoenix lounged back in his seat, holding the thing in one hand and his beauty of a gun in the other. He turned it to and fro, checked the chamber, and placed it on his lap.
“Can I ask a question?”
“Yes.” He blew out thick smoke, his gaze fixed straight ahead.
“Did you find Gable?”
“Yes.” That was all he offered, but in that one word answer, she realized so much.
“Was it due to one of my tips?”
“Yes.”
They were quiet for several minutes. Her heart beat faster and her chest tightened.
“What happens now?”
“With him or you?”
“Both…”
“What happens with him is none of your concern. I’m doing my best to keep good on what I told you. As far as you’re concerned, you’ll avoid prison time because no charges are coming against you. That was the agreement we made, but it will be more difficult than I hoped to get you out of here undetected. I can’t let the wrong people find out you’re in hiding.” Her eyes widened at his declarations, her curiosity piqued. But she knew he wouldn’t go further; he’d remain tightlipped, and she’d only end up frustrated beyond belief.
“So, no prison?”
“No.” He shrugged his shoulders and frowned as if annoyed. He kept his gaze averted as if she were some inconvenience he felt only pity for.
“Does anyone know where I am?”
“A couple of people I rely on know I was trying to find Gable. No one knows your exact involvement for certain, except me.” She sighed with relief. “I’ve not mentioned you in order to ensure I can get you from point A to point B in one piece, Tiffany. The FBI will want a chance to interrogate you if they are fully aware of what’s going on. That could make matters worse, trust me.”
“This can’t get any worse…” She shook her head and glanced at the window, fighting back tears of anger and regret.
“You and your cousin have left shit an absolute mess.” He turned towards her with hooded eyes. Smoke drifted around him, partially blanketing his face in a hazy white fog. “But my men will clean it up.”
“I can only imagine what’s going on back home…” She sighed.
“It’s a catastrophe. I’ll show you some of the news later, just so you can be certain what I’m telling you is true. And that’s just what the media knows, which is less than 15% of the story. The rest is speculation and rumors.”
“So … what do I do from this point on?”
“You stay with me until it’s safe to move you.”
Thank God! She couldn’t believe her prayers had been answered. The very man she’d asked God to let her get away from, she now wished to remain with, to be with him as her human, bulletproof umbrella … for just enough time to get her thoughts and affairs in order, at least.
“Give me a little time, Tiffany, but I’ll get you transported as soon as possible.” She sighed and looked out her window to take in the blur of trees and concrete.
“Why did you keep your word and not kill me?” she whispered, chancing a glance at him.
“Would you prefer I go back on my promise?” he asked, a sexy smirk on his face.
“Right now, the answer is no. Tomorrow…” She shrugged. “I might respond differently…”
CHAPTER EIGHT
“This is where you’ll stay until further notice.”
She scratched her scalp beneath the itchy wig, trying to make sense of things. She was accustomed to luxury; she’d spoiled herself rotten in the last five or so years, but nowhere near this scale. The place smelled like it was baked in money—old congressional, white plantation, down south cotton fields jubilee and sweet iced tea money, the white people shit that was passed down from generation to generation, that Negro Spiritual blood money. Mr. Phoenix Hale had vast coinage, the kind that stacked tall and wide, a wealth spread over onyx bridges and long, gold paved roads that led to diamond studded privilege and the holy grail pimp cup beheld by a mere two percent of the goddamn country. A DEA agent wouldn’t bring in this type of loot, not even on his best day, and though he was now swimming with the big governmental sharks, from her understanding, that occupation wouldn’t afford this
sort of extravagance, either.
He’s got to have other income. Maybe he does a lot of paid public speaking, writes books, things like that … though she suspected it would be something different.
Loud barking erupted in the distance, startling her.
“Relax,” he said coolly, giving a couple of loud claps. “Zeppelin and Metallica! We’ve got company.” Her blood froze when the large beasts drew closer but halted as soon as he put up his big hand. “I see Mildred took good care of you two while I was away.” One of the dogs whimpered while the other stared at her as if she would be its next tasty snack. He bent down and lavished the two creatures with affection. “These are my buddies. Do you like dogs?” He looked over his shoulder at her then turned his attention back to them, rubbing their massive heads and playing with them.
“Not really my thing. They’re okay I guess.” She frowned at the hairy ogres, which behaved as though they’d been so lost without him. Standing up, he pointed towards a large winding staircase.
“Follow me.”
She grabbed her bags and hiked up the steps. The dogs sat at the bottom of them, glaring at her. Oil paintings of ponds with lily pads, beautiful porcelain-faced Victorian ladies, and large Viking boats in a violent storm, all with ornate gold frames, hung on the walls. They looked like they could be worth thousands, possibly more. Phoenix walked past a few closed doors, then stopped at one and opened it with a twist of the knob. “This is where you’ll stay.” She walked inside, leaving him behind to survey the space. A large, king-sized bed with an elaborate wooden headboard took center stage. It stood higher than the other furniture in the room, and she soon realized it was sitting on a platform, like a stage all to itself.
“Do you like it?” he asked, sliding one hand into his pocket.
That’s a strange question coming from him. Why does he even care?
“It’s fine.” She swallowed.
“I think you’ll find it more than suitable,” he stated dryly. “There are two remote controls in the nightstand.” He pointed across the boudoir. “One operates the television, the other the temperature and fireplace in the room. You have a restroom right there to your left, fully equipped with a garden tub and separate shower. Towels, washcloths, soap—it’s all in there. There’s a mini-fridge over in the corner. It’s stocked with bottled water, juice, some soda and iced tea.”
“Thank you.” She wasn’t certain why she’d said it, but she meant it.
“You’re welcome. If there’s something else you want, let me know and I’ll get my house staff to handle it. You are three stories up, so should you decide to make a run for it…” He shrugged. “That’s your choice, but you will set off the alarm system as soon as you open the window and probably break your leg on the way down. Not to mention, Metallica enjoys being outside and if she finds you in her territory, well, I might not get to you in time before she’s had her fill.”
She sat on the bed, feeling emotionally beaten and dejected.
“You don’t have to worry about me and Scooby Doo wrestling in the grass. I’m too tired to do much of anything right now.”
“I find that hard to believe, Tiffany. Even when you’re down and out, you always manage to summon the energy to battle, don’t you?” Coldness coated his tone. “My maid will be back tomorrow. Every other day she will clean up your bedroom and launder your clothing. Breakfast is at 8:00 A.M. Lunch is at 11:30 P.M. and dinner at 6:15 P.M. You can help yourself to the pantry and food items in the kitchen whenever you wish. I mentioned security a moment ago. You should know that there are more than three different security systems running simultaneously here. All exit points are locked, though you are free to walk about the common areas.”
“Like the kitchen, living room, and here?”
He nodded. “If you come across a closed door, do not attempt to open it. If you do, an alarm will go off and my two buddies that you met upon our arrival will greet you to see what the fuss is all about. I always release my dogs if I feel there’s a threat to my home.”
“Why is your house like some fortress?” She looked about at all the cameras in the room.
“Due to my prior occupation and current role, I’d rather be safe than sorry. These systems record all outside activity and, when needed, they also do the indoors with a simple flip of a switch. You’re not with me now under the exact same circumstances as when I first transferred you from Chicago. Because of that, I don’t need to watch your every move. I will disarm the camera in your bathroom, but the security system will remain in place. After you get situated, I’ll show you around. Oh, and the doctor called. You have a clean bill of health. No diseases of any kind, no long-term damage from the ice. She did note that your blood pressure was slightly high, but that was probably due to stress. You’ll be fine. I’ll see you at dinner.” And, just like that, he dismissed himself, closing the door behind him.
Tiffany sat there, swallowed by her morbid thoughts. Not so long ago, she’d been on top of the world. How quickly things had unraveled. Where was she, and where was she going? Life and time were in limbo, juggling her most precious commodities, making a game of all she’d once loved. Nervously rubbing her hands together, she looked about the massive guest bedroom. The domed ceilings, large fireplace with a mirror above it, and colonial style furniture were something she’d only seen in magazines featuring the rich and famous.
Her décor tastes were far more modern, but this place reeked of opulence.
Mama would love a house just like this…
Her eyes watered as she thought about her family. Even after all this time, after all she’d done in life despite the fact their pleas for her to cease and desist had fallen on deaf ears. For the first time in a mighty long while, she regretted getting herself involved in such treachery. She’d lived off the constant adrenaline rush, addicted to the street life, the danger, the fast money and lifestyle.
She’d found power, control over herself and her surroundings, and once she’d gotten a taste of that, there was no turning back. She wouldn’t have given it up for the world, but now, she’d do just about anything she could to reverse time and start over. Her parents had all but washed their hands of her, but despite the horrible arguments and alienation between them, she still loved them dearly. Now, all of her parents’ tears, worrying, threats and screaming over the years played in her mind like a broken record. One Christmas, she’d cursed her mother out for not accepting the brand new black Lexus she’d purchased her. The woman stood in the middle of the driveway, screaming, ‘I don’t want it! People have probably died so you could get that car, or at the very least, had their lives ruined. This is all Shirley’s fault, but you’re grown now, and I don’t want a damn thing from you until you stop this shit, Tiffany. You’ll never get far off blood money!’
Tiffany rubbed her legs hard, fighting back tears. Trying to muzzle the pain of so many lost opportunities.
I was too busy chasing that money … chasing a lifestyle that protected me from really getting to know myself. I could have become the opposite of what I really was … be a big deal instead of someone nobody paid attention to, no longer shy and quiet, dull and boring. I was now using my brain to destroy the naysayers, but I destroyed myself in the process. Look at me now! In some man’s big house, a guy who can make things happen—terrible things—and walk away without getting a wrinkle in his damn shirt. And why? So I can die in some place like Cozumel? I’ve been running my whole damn life. Now I’m chasing time, but I’ll never catch up. It’s gone…
Her mind had always been on the almighty dollar; business never ceased. She was in it deep, and then it hit her why she felt so forlorn and out of sync. Since she’d reached the age of sixteen, not a day had passed that she hadn’t been doing something linked to the dope game. Whether it was a simple marijuana drop off when she was wet behind the ears, a talented runner, or calling the shots behind a few dozen burner phones to arrange a four-digit deal, she always had herself enmeshed in the street life.
Fast forward to the present when she’d been taken by Phoenix, forced to stop, cold turkey. Reality sank in, and boy did it descend deep. Now that she was emotionally sober, the realization of her muddled life, choices, and consequences began to play tricks with her mind … or maybe she’d just been fooling herself the whole time.
She no longer had her fancy clothing, couldn’t hide behind her piles of money, flaunt her furs during brutal Chicago winters, flash her pink and yellow diamonds, parade her shiny, new cars and demand respect as soon as she stepped foot in any Chicagoan establishment. Tiffany McCall wasn’t just her name; it was a well-known brand in the streets of Chitown. Her product was pure, her reputation stellar, and she handled her business in an enviable fashion. Her cousin Gable was feared and respected as the front man. While she was obliged to play behind the scenes, she sparkled too bright to be ignored. A bitch with brains and beauty … unfuckwithable.
Grasping the ridiculous wig, she ripped it off, tossing it to the side as if it were some creepy crawly thing that had settled atop her head. Running her fingers through her wild hair, she stood to her feet and viewed herself in the mirror above the fireplace.
I’m not putting that wig back on right now. I can do my own hair tonight. Do I even still know how to braid? It’s been so long…
She was going to try her hand at it. Besides, it would be a good way to spend some of the time. Returning to the bed, she regarded the cameras, sighed, then slid off her clothing before making her way to the bathroom. So, he could be watching her; she didn’t give a damn. Her life had been uprooted; she wasn’t about to walk on eggshells because of that motherfucker. Screw him.
She looked up at the camera jammed near the shower, noting the little red light wasn’t lit. Closing and locking the door as a force of habit, she opened the faucet to fill the tub, taking note of a large bottle of bath gel, battery operated candles, and several bath bombs in a glass jar. She removed one from the container, sniffed it, and smiled.
