Rozalyn 6: The Finale

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Rozalyn 6: The Finale Page 3

by Shan


  “Oh, yea, so what’s the plan?”

  “Now that Donald is out the way, them Italians real antsy because they ain’t got nobody they can trust to move weight for them down south and on the east coast either. A couple of them hit me up on the fly tryin’ to see what was what, but I told them be patient and I’ll get back with them. That was months ago and I ain’t said shit. They getting real impatient.”

  “Yea, cause Donald was their cash cow and Dmitri was their eyes and ears to the streets. And you know niggas ain’t trying to fuck with no new niggas.”

  “Definitely not. But me and that nigga Chalo, Dmitri’s right hand, have been talking a lot lately. I guess now that he see I wasn’t the one responsible for Dmitri’s death he wants to mend the relationship. He said he put in a good word with his people and they ready to hand over the fields that Donald used to own because they people don’t know what to do with them. Donald was the brains behind everything and he had been so selfish that he had only shared everything with Dmitri. Of course Dmitri schooled me and they said if I can promise to do for them the same thing that Donald was doing I can have that shit. I’ve been thinking about starting up this shit called The United Nations Cartel being I’ll have control over several coca fields now. Remember how I said before if somebody could bring everybody together; the Blacks, Mexicans, and the Italians then they would be a force to be reckoned with. That’s what I want to do.”

  “Damn, then what the fuck is the hold up, bruh? This what the fuck you’ve been talking about. This what you worked your whole life for,” Black said. He was hype as hell as he fired up a Black ‘N’ Mild and backed a couple of feet away from me. I could see the joy in his eyes and knew that no matter what we’d gone through, he truly had me.

  He was never on no hating type shit and was the type to enjoy a nigga’s success as if it was his own. Niggas like him were hard to find. I only knew one cat like him in my lifetime, that was Keylan, and of course he was no longer with us.

  “Think about it. If Rico is out the picture and I got the fuckin Italians, I can get the Mexican Cartel on my side, too. Get rid of Rico and his whole muthafuckin’ crew and they ain’t got shit left linking them to the streets. We rock them niggas and the shit is ours for the taking.”

  “But, what about your girl Keysha? She got Atlanta on lock right now with that shit she been bringing in and I hear it’s making its way through the boot all the way to Texas.”

  “Oh, don’t worry about her. Her pops, Jessan, can be bought out. Believe that. Take care of Rico and ask Jessan his price. Tell him I’m willing to pay whatever to have control of everything over that operation them Jamaicans trying to build. They got it, but I want it. Keysha’s reign was over before it even began. Ain’t no way in hell, I’m a let a bitch run shit.”

  Black chuckled. “Straight up. Well looks like I got work to do. I’m a get at you bruh. Give me a few days to get in position to take care of all this.”

  “I ain’t worried. I know you got me.”

  A smile crossed my face because Black made that shit happen. I expected everything to at least take a few months or even a year to pan out, but when I was on my way to check on my moms and Taylana that nigga hit me with a text saying everything was done.

  I didn’t believe him until I pulled on the side of the road and googled Rico’s name and saw the story of the gas explosion that occurred at his estate, leaving him dead and three other very important men.

  Jessan had cost me twenty-five million dollars with the promise of twelve percent profits over the next five years. That was very doable and I made sure to have my accountant cut a check for him immediately.

  The UNC was about to be something big. The plans I had for it brewing in my head would make me the most hated man in America; by the streets, the government, and everybody else that wanted to touch me but couldn’t. I was about to form a cartel so fucking strong that soon muthafuckas would be declaring a New World Order. Shit was about to get crazy and good at the same time, but the only muthafuckin’ thing that I felt could possibly stop me before I even got started, was if Rozalyn was actually down in the interrogation room ratting a nigga out. I had to get her the fuck up out of there.

  “Tamar!” Keysha yelled, rattling me from my thoughts. I brushed the tears away from my face and turned to look at her.

  “What?” I answered.

  “Here, you left your phone in there and it kept ringing, so I answered it. It’s the hospital. They said that Rozalyn came in about 30 minutes ago.”

  “For what?”

  I snatched the phone and placed it to my ear listening as the hospital staff told me that Rozalyn was brought down with a broken nose and two fractured ribs. My face frowned up in confusion as I listened to the details. That nigga Stone never mentioned anything about Rozalyn being hurt and if she was, why the fuck were they just now taking her to the hospital?

  4: Rozalyn

  My eyes fluttered open, and I could immediately tell that some of the swelling of my right eye had already gone down. I cringed at the pain as I tried to move and adjust my position in the hospital bed. Clinking noises alarmed me when I attempted to roll over onto my side. These muthafuckas had me locked down to the bed like I was a terrorist or some shit.

  Reality hit me hard as hell, because for a moment, as I laid here sleeping peacefully, I’d forgotten all about Latoya and her mom. It didn’t take long before the guilt came pouring back in, though. The shit was already weighing heavily on my mind and I hadn’t even been woke for more than a minute. Part of me wanted to go back to sleep and never awake up again, but I knew I couldn’t go out like that. I still had my kids to live for.

  No matter what happened at that house and in that bedroom, I couldn’t take full blame for that and I wished my mind would feel the same way I felt in my heart. I hated that it had to go that far, but it was either my life or Latoya’s. The only thing I really, really felt horrible about was her mother. I had pulled the trigger on her out of reflex and fear and because of that she was dead.

  I was only sad because Keymani didn’t have a father or a mother now, and the new baby would never get a chance to even know her parents. But no matter how much I know I made the right decision, I had a feeling that this wasn’t going to be some easy shit to get over.

  “Baby?”

  I jumped at the sound of Tamar’s voice. I had been so deep in my thoughts and guilt ridden that I hadn’t even noticed that he was in the room with me. I hadn’t even noticed the fat ass cop that stood by the door with his back against the wall either.

  I looked up at Tamar and couldn’t help but to roll my eyes at him. This nigga had the nerve to be standing over me calling me baby. I shook my head and once again attempted to roll over onto my side, just so I could give this fool my back. Unfortunately, the shackles and the stabbing pain in my rib cage wouldn’t allow that to happen. For now, I would have to just close my eyes and pretend that Tamar wasn’t about to sit here and play me for a fool like he had been all these years.

  Agent Stone told me all about the beauty that accompanied my husband to the police station while I was in an interrogation room getting my ass beat, in my plight to be the good, ride or die chick that never croaked on her man. I already knew without a doubt that the chick that was with him was Keysha; of course it was her.

  I thought about how beautiful she was and that instantly brought tears to my eyes. I don’t know why because I had accepted this. I was over this. And I knew that I had had enough of this, and of all the things I could be crying about right now, I really hated that I was wasting my tears on this. This nigga; my so-called husband.

  “So, you don’t wanna look at a nigga? Come on ma’, don’t be like that. You know if anything, I ain’t gonna let shit happen to you. I got you,” Tamar told me.

  I scoffed because it was obvious he hadn’t noticed my condition. I hadn’t even had a chance to look in a mirror and I knew that I was fucked up. My face felt heavy and I felt as if there was a
knife being pressed into my stomach over and over again.

  Something had already happened to me. I had been deprived of food and water for over twelve hours and interrogated about everything from the fucking Mexican Cartel to the Italian Mafia and even questioned about Tamar’s involvement in Rico’s death. I didn’t even know that Rico was dead, but I didn’t flinch when I heard the news. That muthafucka’ deserved it because he was the piece of shit that started the ruins of my marriage.

  Even with what everything that happened in that interrogation room; from Stone and the white boy that stood by with a smirk on his face watching as I was nearly beaten to within an inch of my life, I didn’t fold. I stood my ground and kept my mouth closed unless it was to ask for a lawyer. Every now and then they would throw out a question about Latoya and her mom and what happened there, but they made it very obvious that they could give two fucks.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? You gonna sit here and act like you don’t hear me talking to you?”

  “No, I’m hoping that you see that I don’t wanna talk to you and you leave me the fuck alone.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. Where is Keysha? Do you have her out in the waiting room while you in here acting like you give a damn about me?”

  “Why would you even say some shit like that? You know I give a damn about you and Keysha is in Atlanta. Why would I bring her here with me?”

  I placed my hand over my chest and laughed a little. The first time I found any type of humor with all this shit that was going on.

  “Nigga, Stone told me you had Keysha with you when you came down to the police station to check on little ol’ me. It’s all good, I’m not worried about it.”

  I watched as Tamar’s facial expression changed from a look of confusion to one of anger. I knew that look all too well. It was one that he used to give me quite often right before he beat my ass for whatever reason. I knew he wasn’t about to hit me in this hospital room with that cop sitting less than ten feet away, but I knew some heat was about to spit from his lips.

  “Bitch, you and that nigga Stone friends now? That’s how the fuck you do me?”

  I shook my head at his foolishness. He should know damn well I ain’t said shit to them people about him. Hell, what did I know any damn way? It wasn’t like I knew much about what Tamar did every damn day with his drug operation. He should know that I wasn’t too informed about his shit when I couldn’t even pay Rico off to keep him from coming after me while he was away. Yea there were some things that I had overheard over the years and even things that I had inadvertently witnessed, but most of that I pushed out of my mind because it wasn’t my business.

  “Oh, that’s why you here, huh? You wanted to make sure I wasn’t down here snitching you out. You would think that you knew you ain’t have to worry about that with me, but I forget that you don’t know what type of woman you have otherwise you wouldn’t be running around sticking your dick in the next bitch. And you definitely wouldn’t have sent me in that damn house—”

  I stopped myself before I said too much, but I couldn’t stop the tears that seemed to fly out of my eyes. They poured down my face like a drizzle of raindrops and I brought my free hand up to wipe them away.

  Tamar took in a deep breath and sat on the side of my bed. He pulled loose strands of hair from my face and kissed me on the cheek. The guard standing by the door cleared his throat, but Tamar ignored him and placed another kiss on my forehead. He then leaned over and whispered in my ear.

  “Where’d you put it?” he asked me and I wasn’t quite sure if I knew what he was talking about.

  “What?” I asked as he pulled back and looked me in my face.

  “The gun,” he mouthed.

  That damn gun. The baby’s bag was the smartest place to put it at the time, especially when the cops came rolling in. I acted like I had just walked in on a crime and was treated like a surviving victim. They had placed the infant and Keymani on the back of an ambulance and had them sent to the hospital and me in the back of a squad car to have me transported to the station so that they could get a formal statement from me.

  They searched me up and down before they placed me in an interrogation room all alone, but luckily they didn’t search the baby’s bag. In the midst of waiting on someone to come and take that statement, I was able to sneak off to the restroom, and dropped the pistol in the back of one of the toilets. It was the only thing I could think of at the time. I knew eventually that they would notice that I had the baby bag with me and want to take a look inside, and I wasn’t wrong.

  The minute they realized that I wasn’t an actual victim and possibly a suspect they searched me once again, took the bag from me, attempted to swab my mouth which I wouldn’t allow, and started in on me with their questioning. It wasn’t so bad at first, but I guess when word got out that they had the wife of the infamous Tamar “Tae” Andrews in custody on possible murder charges, things had gone downhill from there.

  I didn’t know if I wanted to give Tamar that gun, though. I didn’t know if I wanted to ever tell anyone where it was. Part of me was hoping that I could leave here, get to it, and properly get rid of it, but I knew that was farfetched. They didn’t have any plans of letting me go anytime soon.

  I looked over at the fat ass cop standing in the corner, doing his best to hear everything that Tamar and I was talking about. I didn’t want to say too much and then he took the info and ran with it, but I did needed to make sure they had nothing to tie me to the crime. Fuck it. No matter how bad I felt for killing Latoya and her moms, I loved my life more, and I didn’t wanna sit behind bars for the rest of it.

  I glanced in the cop’s direction once more and then looked back at Tamar. I held my free arm out so that he could hug me and when he did, I whispered in his ear and told him where I’d left the deadly weapon. Tamar pulled back away from me and glared at me as if he was shocked that someone like me could be so clever. No lie, I was a little surprised at myself, but a bitch’s life was on the line.

  “I’m about to take care of this shit, and work on having you home by time they discharge you. Don’t worry, I got you,” Tamar said to me.

  I shrugged my shoulders not really believing the words that poured from his mouth. I mean I knew he had me in a sense that he was gonna do what it took to get me out of this jam, but part of me only felt like he was gonna do what it took because he was scared if I spent too much time with these pigs that I would snitch on him. I hated to feel that way about my husband, but how else was I supposed to feel? He’d let me down one too many times, and I was just ready to let this shit go and move on with my life.

  “Gimme a kiss and stop playing with me, Roz.”

  “Ain’t nobody playing with you. Damn, get away from me. Ain’t no telling where them lips been, sadly.”

  “Better be lucky that fuckin’ pig over there or they’ll be over you, my lil gangsta.” Tamar licked his lips and I couldn’t do shit but roll my eyes. Why the hell this nigga had to look so sexy right now? “I love you ma. For real, you know that. Don't be acting like this with me ‘cause you making me feel like you thinking some real negative shit. Like leaving me and you know I can’t handle that.”

  He knelt down again and started kissing all over my face. I tried to resist his touches, but it wasn’t like I could go anywhere. I allowed him to kiss my swollen lips, and then allowed him to slide his tongue into my mouth. It felt good, damn good, but this wasn’t enough to get me to change my mind. Keysha could have him. I was done. For good this time.

  5: Rozalyn

  6 Months Later…

  She don't wanna be a freak no more, Freak!

  She don't wanna take molly, get geeked no more, Geek!

  She don't even wanna strip no more

  She don't wanna see the pole

  “Ayyyye! Turn the fuck up!” I yelled twerking my hips from side to side at the Migos’ banger Freak No More. It was live as hell up in Club Mansion that was located out in South
beach of Miami. I was on my third drink for the night and couldn't nobody tell me shit. My hair was laid thanks to my girl Starr, and I had on a bad ass red Guiseppe dress with the some matching Guiseppe Zanotti heels on my feet. I was on my single bad bitch status tonight and was looking to make one helluva statement.

  These last six months of my life had been a roller coaster of emotions. First, I had been dealing with the trial from where the punk ass Miami police had charged me with the murders of Latoya and her mom. I was facing two first-degree murder charges, and the outlook didn't look too good. Since they couldn’t get me to roll over on Tamar, they had came down on me hard and was trying to make sure that I went down for those murders, but I ended up getting this bad ass attorney Kimani Kilpatrick on my team.

  Kimani aka Kim was a beast. I had seen her on TV defending an actor that was accused of killing his whole damn family. He’d gotten away with that shit, and Kim had several other people looking suspect, and him looking like a saint in the end. She charged a whole helluva lot of money to work the case, and since Tamar wanted to be so helpful; I made sure he secured her for my defense. He tried to argue me down and use his dirty ass attorneys that he had been using forever, but I wanted Kilpatrick on my team, and so far she had proven her worth.

  She was able to get me house arrest, the kids remained in my custody, found several reasons to push my trial back, and I made her find a reason why Tamar couldn't be around me. Although the feds had left me alone, I told her to somehow use the fact that they had harassed me to get the judge to draw up an order for Tamar to stay away from me during the course of the trial.

  She told the judge that she felt that due to the dislike that the government had against Tamar that it would be in my best interest and the best interest of my case that he and I had no contact to ensure that I was given a fair trial and that the DA didn’t try to use my connections to him to convince the jury to convict me. It had worked too.

 

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