No, wait, these weren't Milo's people, I realized as the group bogarded past us. This was Yayo Love and his security team. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Clear the bathroom," one of the big security guards said.
"We're leaving," I said back, trying to look around him at Yayo Love but he had already went into his stall and shut the door. It would have been nice to sell Yayo a pound of OG. I knew he smoked, and I had three sealed purchase-ready pounds of it stashed in our dressing room.
"Get out," the security guard said with authority—and I could have sworn he flinched at us. "Let the man take a shit. No autographs."
Gee flinched back, and I pulled him out of the restroom before we got jumped.
But obviously I wasn't fast enough. We didn't get halfway to our dressing room when I heard my name being called in the hallway behind me.
"Coras, hold up!"
Me and Gee turned. And we saw four people in dark hoodies—two of which I knew for a fact worked for Milo—walking toward us. I tensed.
"Stay right there," said the one leading the pack. He was the tallest, and I was almost certain his name was Oyeah Mason. "Yall know what time it is."
How the fuck did they get backstage? I wondered.
Oyeah had his hands in his hoodie pouch. I didn't know if he was holding or not. Another one of the brothas walking with him pulled out a camera phone and held it up to film us. He was grinning. I knew then that they planned to jump us and record it, to later show it to Milo and, who knows, maybe they'd post it on The Site to embarrass us. Gee took a small step back and I didn't know if he was feeling lightheaded again or if he was about to run.
I whispered to him, "Stay with me, Gee. Follow my lead."
"I'm feeling sick again."
"Don't pass out."
Oyeah Mason got in my face. He pulled his balled fists out of his pouch and showed me his dark, calloused knuckles. "One hit, and you're gone. But I'ma give you a chance to apologize on camera. Milo said if you apologize, not to touch you. But yo boy Gee right here is getting roughed up no matter what. He shouldn't have put his hands on my nigga's sister."
I knew why Milo decided to give Oyeah orders not to touch me. I was Milo's bread and butter, just as much as he was to me. I sold his drugs faster than anybody he fucked with, whether he admitted it or not. But to show his so-called authority, or to scare me, he was trying to demonstrate on Gee. I wouldn't let it go down like that.
Oyeah told the camera man to step back and get a wide shot.
"This ain't the time or place," I said to Oyeah. "We gotta be on stage in like ten minutes."
"Nigga, I don't give a fuck!"
That was when my right fist came across and slammed into Oyeah's jaw. It was probably the most accurate, most powerful punch I'd ever thrown in my life. I put my whole body into it, and I saw Oyeah's eyes lose focus before he hit the ground.
Gee attacked the person nearest him, reaching out and grabbing the man by his face with claw-like fingers to poke his eyes out. I tried to get to the camera man, but the fourth guy, who was smaller than me, grabbed me around the waist to pick me up and slam me. He lifted me off the ground only a few inches before my weight got the best of him and he gave that idea up.
I punched him twice.
He ducked lower to pull my legs from under me but I had them spread too far apart for him to grab both. I brought hellish elbows down on the back of his head and one-two'd him until his neck got weak and he collapsed at my feet.
But he was still of conscious mind, enough to grab and hug my leading leg to keep me from moving. Monifa had done this to me once—but she had started biting into my calf until I bled and she tore my plantaris tendon located just below the gastrocnemius muscle (the bulging shape of the calf). This guy was just hugging, but it was still hurting.
"Hey, break that shit up!"
I looked and saw one of Yayo Love's security guards—the same one who nearly threatened me and Gee in the bathroom—yelling at us from down the hallway but coming our way with the rest of his team; well, minus two members—one security guard stopped with Yayo Love to keep him away from us. I kept trying to pull my leg free to go after the camera man when I turned and saw two things: (1) the brotha who Gee had clawed laying on the ground unconscious, and (2) Gee approaching the backpedaling camera man who had just stuffed the camera phone in his hoodie pouch, only to retrieve a gun.
It had already been cocked and loaded. Bang! Bang! Gee went down after the first shot, but the camera man kept firing.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Then he took off running.
I was speechless.
GabbyTV: I've just received confirmation that there was a shooting at a Yayo Love concert in Kansas City, Missouri! We're still waiting on further details, but it apparently happened backstage at the Sprint Center arena in the city's Power & Light District. This isn't the first time there's been a shooting at one of Yayo's concerts, but this is the first that has taken place backstage, which leads us to believe that he was the target this time. There's no word yet if Yayo Love was hit, but you know I'll find out. After all, this could have been a publicity stunt to bring attention to his downward spiraling career. STAY TUNED, my little Gabblettes!
Chapter 11
Kirbie Amor Capelton
I couldn't see a thing because of the blindfold, but as Mark helped me out of the backseat I could tell by the sounds in the air that we were in an alley.
"Kirbie, are you okay?" asked Archie, who was somewhere nearby blindfolded too.
"I'm fine," I said.
"Sorry, yall," said Mark. "Yall know I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't have to. And just so you guys know, right now I'm holding each of you guys' hand as we walk. Don't pull away from me and walk carefully. The concrete's not good back here. You'll be going into a restaurant the back way through the kitchen. It's closed to the public today, so you'll be having dinner with the boss alone."
"Will we be able to take our blindfolds off once we get inside?" Archie asked.
"No. You'll be wearing them the whole time."
I coughed out a sigh. "Are you serious, Mark?"
"Very serious. Julian Beltrán doesn't want you to see his face."
Mark led us forward. Every step I took was uncertain; I wasn’t sure the ground would still be there when my heel landed. I thought I heard Archie trip, and I was sure he did when Mark accidentally tugged on my arm to accommodate Archie's misstep.
"Be careful, you guys."
Then, several feet later he let my arm go, and I assumed he let Archie's go too.
Mark knocked on a screen door. It sounded like it had metal bars attached to it also. The door creaked open and I heard a new voice speak Spanish, and Mark spoke it back. Then Mark said to us, "Okay, yall, this is as far as I go. I'll be waiting here when yall get out."
He's not coming with us? I thought with a pinch of worry. I wondered if Archie was as concerned as I was.
Suddenly, I felt hands grab my arms from behind and guide me inside the restaurant. I was already missing Mark's style of leadership; this guiding me from the back shit was scary—I felt like I was about to run into something. And with the guy behind me gripping my upper arms so tight, I could only hold my hands out halfway from the elbow down.
And even scarier was the changes in lighting from dark to darker to not as dark and back again, as we made our way through the kitchen—where I heard plates shuffle and people speaking Spanish and an oven door slam so hard it startled me—and into a hallway and ultimately into the eating area.
My guide sat me down at a table.
I heard Archie being seated next to me. At least I hoped it was him. It smelled like him.
"Archie?" I said.
"I'm here." He grabbed my hand under the table.
This was one of the many reasons I never wanted to deal with cocaine. There was so much secrecy that was involved, so much more of a heightened sense of danger because more money was at stake, that it was almo
st not worth the migraine. I felt like someone was going to walk up behind us and shoot us both in the back of the head.
Then I heard footsteps. From behind. Several people casually walking closer. I actually turned my head as if I could see who was coming. Soon, those footsteps came around us and ended up in front of us. Three chairs were pulled out, and then they sat down. My nose caught whiffs of new body odors.
"Do you two speak Spanish?" said a male voice.
Me and Archie both said no.
Same voice: "You need to learn then." A pause. "My name is Julian Beltrán and I am the man behind the cocaine you wish to purchase. You'll be dealing with my nephew Mark Beltrán directly, but every now and then I like to meet our partners to get a sense of who we deal with on every level."
"Thank you for having us," Archie said.
I started to say the same thing as Archie, but I didn't want to sound like a parrot so I said, "Nice to meet your acquaintance, sir."
"Likewise. To the both of you." There was a smile in Julian's voice. Then: "I don't make it a habit to meet everyone, of course. Some people don't deserve my presence. But Mark's had a lot of good things to say about you two. He's been selling you pills for years, apparently, and not once has he had any hiccups with timely payments or dishonor. I expect the same respect with the powder, nothing less."
I nodded, and I hoped Archie did too.
Julian went on to explain to us that he and the people in this room knew what we looked like. Indirectly, he had threatened to kill us if we ever did him or his nephew wrong. Meal time was the weird part (if being blindfolded wasn't already weird). When our plates arrived, I was having trouble getting the fresh seafood soup—someone in the room called the dish caldo de mariscos—in my mouth with my fork because I no longer had hand-eye coordination. A few of the unseen men laughed every now and then, and I knew they were laughing at me. But all in all, the food was delicious; it was loaded with spices, and the steaming fried rice was one-of-a-kind.
I heard Julian's chair scoot back, and from the sound of his voice I knew he was standing. "Dinner was a pleasure," he said to us. "But I must go. My men will lead you out back and Mark will take care of you from there. He'll let you know when you can remove your blindfolds."
I thought Julian had left, but then I felt his hand touch my chin and it jolted me. He nudged it—and then I felt his lips press against mines ever so gently.
"Farewell, novia,” he whispered to me. His breath was cool and inviting. His presence was as big as life. "En otra vida ..."
Then he was gone.
"Bye," I said softly.
***
We were on our way back to Missouri with kilos of cocaine in the trunk. Archie was driving, singing along to a Jazzmine Short throwback playing on the radio. He was happy.
He had his coke.
I was in my feelings. I had my window down, and the wind was blowing my hair as I stared out at nature as it passed me by. I was thinking about music and I was sulking a little bit because that life was behind me now, but I was also thinking about the kiss Julian laid on me. It was sweet. But there were no fireworks like there was when I kissed Coras. I nearly melted into a puddle after feeling Coras's lips. But Julian's kiss did feel good, just different.
I was trying to understand the feelings I was going through right now, the inappropriate way in which my body tingled pleasantly from the lips of other men, both Coras and Julian. I had never strayed from Archie, but I was wondering if this strange desire to be touched by someone new was a sign that I wasn't ready to marry him. Was 19 years old too young? But I really did want to be married to Archie.
I loved being loyal.
"What's wrong?" Archie asked me.
I turned. "Huh? I look upset?"
"No, but I know something's on your mind because you're not on your phone."
I sucked my teeth. "Real funny, Archie." But he was right.
"Are you worried about whether or not we can get rid of all this cocaine?"
"No. I know we can. We never have any problems hustling together. True hustlers can hustle any product and I'm motivated."
He smiled. "I raised you well."
"The only thing I'm concerned about is how long is our run gonna last. The coke game is wide-open now because the Feds just swept the city in another mass drug conspiracy ... but will we be round up in the next sweep? Seems like every three or four years in Kansas City there's a new team that gets taken down. I don't wanna get caught up in the next indictment handed down by the federal grand jury."
"The law only catches wind when you involve too many players," Archie rationalized. "It's just gonna be me and you at the top. Same program as the pills, and look how many years we went without getting caught. If you want, in four more years we can switch up the hustle again."
"I don't care what we sell. I just wanna win, Archie."
"And we will. We are! See, those public indictments don't talk about who got away, who beat the system. There are people in the city that have hustled cocaine through many indictments. And I'm not talking about snitches. I know a few real ones still doing well. I know what I'm doing, Kirbie. Have I ever steered you wrong?"
I thought about the fake robbery and how he allowed a man I never met in my life to put his boot on my face.
"Have I?" he asked again.
"No," I said.
We were driving in peace for a while when I finally decided to pull my phone out. Archie tossed out a slick comment about me being a social media junkie and made a playful grab to take my phone, but actually I wasn't logging into The Site right now. I was doing an internet search to find out what Julian Beltrán had said to me. Farewell, novia ... En otra vida. I learned that novia meant "fiancé" and en otra vida meant "in another life." I was confused. Did Julian tell me he'd marry me under different circumstances? Or was the kiss a customary sign of respect and he was simply congratulating my engagement to Archie?
"Did Julian kiss you?" I asked.
Archie's face was weirded out. "What did you just say?"
"Did Julian kiss you? You know, like a sign of respect that mafia people do."
"Fuck no he didn't. I would've flipped the table over and went Denzel on them niggas. Did he kiss you?"
"Yes."
"On the lips?"
I should have kept my mouth shut. Archie was really starting to grow upset.
"No," I lied. "Just on the cheek."
"Oh okay. If he had, I would've whipped this bitch around so hard and shot back to that restaurant so fast ..."
I giggled. "Assuming we know where the restaurant is and they're there, what would you have done?"
"Broke a couple arms. Maybe a leg or two."
"You would've took on all those Beltrán cartel members by yourself? Really, Archie?"
"For my fiancé and future wife, I'll take on the world. Seven billion people, three at time, Crouching Tiger style. Line 'em up!"
"That's sweet. Thank you, Archie."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
I said the words, and I meant them, so why was I logging into The Site a few seconds later to check on Coras's profile? Something was wrong with me. I was starting to think that I wasn't as loyal as I thought I was.
As my thumb went up to the app's searchbox to type in "Coras," I noticed a trending topic in my newsfeed. The hashtag of choice was currently #SprintCenter. I tapped the link quickly and started reading the comments.
Wendy 'youlovetotaste' Hartley: A shooting at the Sprint Center??? C’mon, this can’t be real smh
Thorton Jones: Niggas can't do shit right. That's why famous people never wanna perform in Kansas City #SprintCenter #Hoodlums
Problem Child: I heard Yayo Love is dead! Good riddens. He was washed up and overrated anyway. #SprintCenter
Makea WorkingWoman Price: Yayo love is not dead. Those are fake sites publishing that shit. Stop re-posting it! #negativity #SprintCenter
Bobby Mason: I heard it was some local
niggas that got popped #SprintCenter
4300Block Keyon: Oh snaps, GabbyTV wrote a story on the #SprintCenter shooting! We're making national news. Kansas City, we on! #global
Natasha YoloLife Anderson: I know one thing. Since the show got canceled, I better get me a refund #SprintCenter #NoGames #iWantMyMoneyBack
RealNiggas Stay Anonymous: Coras Bane got shot. That’s what I heard.
Trillyoung Sav: No, it was his producer.
Coras or Gee got shot?! I immediately put my phone to my ear to call Coras.
"Who are you calling?" Archie asked.
"There was a shooting at the Sprint Center," I said frantically. The call went to voicemail. I redialed. "I'm trying to find out what happened."
"You’re calling Coras?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I just told you why!"
Archie let out a hard sigh through his nose, the same way a rodeo bull clears its airway in preparation for an attack. But he didn't stop me from making my call. There was no way he could have.
Monifa Chavis: I bet that'll be the last time you kiss another bitch in the studio. Don't fuck with my heart. #SprintCenter
Chapter 12
Andre "Coras Bane" McDougald
"Kirbie's on her way up here," I warned Ashleigh. We were sitting in the waiting area of Truman Medical Center's ICU wing. Ashleigh had a magazine in her lap, but she was flipping through the pages too fast to actually read anything.
"Why are you telling me that?" she said with an attitude.
"So you'll know. I don't want you to start nothing with her."
"I don't understand why you even accepted her call and told her Gee was up here. She doesn't deserve to be here."
"Gee is her friend."
"If she was a friend, she wouldn't have canceled on us like that. She should have been there."
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