Green Eyed Monster

by Ashley Antoinette

  She located the pill bottle and unscrewed the top. The more often she took them, the shorter her high lasted. It was as if she could never get the same high that she had gotten the very first time she had taken them. She needed something stronger, something that lasted longer, so that she didn’t have to take them so frequently. She popped two into her mouth and swallowed them dry, forcing them down her own throat. “I didn’t know you were still taking those.”

  Indie’s stern voice startled her and she jumped, causing the bottle to spill out over the floor. She turned to him and immediately got defensive.

  “I didn’t think you had to know,” she snapped back, with a little more bite to her words than she intended. She bent down and began to pick up the pills. Her mood had changed just that quickly. She was coming down from a high ride, and her irritation caused her to mistake his concern for contempt. She was on the defense because she knew that she was wrong.

  Indie was hit with her sarcastic comment as if it were a slap in the face. He peered at her in concern.

  “Yo, hey, ma, come here,” he said as he went to her side and knelt to help pick her up off the floor.

  She exhaled and came to her knees and rested in the space between his legs as he sat on the bed in front of her. Her head hung low.

  “Are you okay?” he asked simply.

  “I’m fine,” she replied. She wanted desperately to tell him that she felt empty inside . . . that despite all of the positivity around her, she couldn’t stop thinking of Leah. It was as though the tables had turned. At first it was Leah’s obsession that kept them linked, and now it was YaYa who couldn’t let go. She couldn’t release the hatred that dwelled inside of her, and it was slowly beginning to rot. The power. The hustle. The money. The love. It was all just a distraction from the vendetta she harbored against Leah. She knew that she would have to let it go in order to move on with her life, but it was so much easier said than done.

  “Should I be concerned about this?” Indie asked as he pointed at the mess she had made.

  She shook her head. “No. I just have pain some days. It’s not as bad as it used to be, but sometimes I do need to take something for it. That’s all. I promise,” she lied.

  Indie pulled her close and held her tightly, hugging her as if he were afraid to lose her once again. “You will tell me if you’re in over your head, right? You can talk to me about anything. You do know that, right?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I know.” She said it, but she didn’t really believe it. How could she tell him that she thought about killing Leah every second of every day? What words could she use to make him see that as long as Leah breathed, she would never be able to truly live without fear? And even if she could tell him those things, she would never have the courage to tell him that she really felt no physical pain. She had healed from the fire. It was the emotional pain that she was trying to numb by taking the pills.

  “I want you to do me a favor and stop taking these,” Indie said. “If you’re in pain, we’ll find a doctor here in New York. This is Oxy, ma. That shit is just as bad as taking heroin. The dosage is too high for you now. You shouldn’t be on the same dosage as you were right after the fire. I’ve seen pill heads, YaYa, and I know the damage that these can do to you, ma. Stop taking them, and I’m not asking. I would never tell you anything wrong.” His words were stern, chastising, but also caring.

  She wanted to open her mouth and have the truth spill out of it, but she wasn’t ready to stop. So instead she told a lie. “I will, Indie,” she said. She touched his face lovingly. “I’m so lucky to have you.”

  YaYa had been through so much in such a short period of time, and Indie could see it taking its toll on her. Life had beaten her up, and a lot of times the recovery was harder than the actual circumstance. “Nah, you got it wrong, ma. I’m the lucky one.” He stood to his feet. “You stay up here. I’m going to go clear everyone out. Then it’s me, you, and Sky, a’ight? Our family is back together again, and nothing or nobody—not Leah, not the game—will ever tear this apart.”

  She nodded, and he planted a soft kiss on her forehead, causing her eyes to close in appreciation.

  She watched him leave the room then looked at the pills on the floor. She bent down and picked them up. Get yourself together, she thought. He loves you. Sky is healthy. They are all you need to take the pain away. Get rid of the pills, she thought, silently scolding herself for being so weak.

  YaYa had never cracked so badly under pressure. She had raised herself since childhood, and her path had always been hard. Allowing herself to break now made no sense. She walked into the bathroom and emptied the bottle of pills into the toilet, flushing them and her fears away.

  Chapter 19

  Leah had been unresponsive since she was transferred to the mental hospital. If she hadn’t been crazy before, the padded room that they kept her in would have surely driven her insane. She had seen countless therapists, had been doped up on antidepressants, and still she hadn’t spoken to anyone. She was far from stupid; Leah knew what game she was playing. It was called survival of the fittest. If she showed that she had the smallest ounce of good sense, then they would put her on trial for her life. They couldn’t prosecute the mentally ill, so Leah kept up the charade day and night. What she didn’t realize was that it wasn’t so farfetched.

  She lay on the white bed with her eyes locked on the wall in front of her. Since the fire, she had been experiencing a confusing mixture of emotions. Resentment had built up inside of her, and she secretly wished that she had died in the blaze. Her entire existence would never be the same now. Leah knew that it was vain, but she would rather be beautiful and dead then ugly and breathing.

  A nurse came into the room and said, “Leah, you have your very first visitor.”

  Leah didn’t respond. She didn’t even sit up because there was no way that anyone was coming to see her. There wasn’t a soul on earth that cared enough to visit her.

  “Get up. Maybe this visit will snap you out of your funk. It’s your father, and he came here all the way from New York,” the nurse said.

  “My father?” she whispered. Her raspy voice could barely be heard, and the nurse looked at her in surprise.

  “So she does speak?” she asked. “The doctors will be so glad to hear about your progress.”

  Leah stood to her feet and walked out of the room. Her lace-less shoes slipped off her feet with every step she took. She didn’t know who was playing such a cruel joke on her, but curiosity drew her toward the visiting room all the same. She stepped into the crowded space and immediately felt insecure as all eyes fell upon her. Insecure in her own skin, Leah felt cornered. Her eyes cut through the crowd with precision, and when they fell upon Buchanan Slim, the man whose love she had always yearned for, her heart began to spasm as she fidgeted.

  “He only likes the pretty girls.”

  The words that her mother had spoken to her as a child echoed in her head and she knew that if that was the case, then there was no way that he could possibly love her in her current state. Leah took a deep breath and approached Slim’s table. He didn’t flinch when he saw her. He had gotten used to her burns when she was trying to pass for YaYa. It wasn’t Leah’s physical health that disturbed him; it was her mental health that was hideous.

  “Now that you know who I really am, what are you doing here?” she asked defensively.

  “I’m here to make amends, to make things right. The things that you’ve done are ugly. I can’t imagine what you must have seen or lived through to make you hate another human being so much. I know that you feel jealous of YaYa because of the relationship that I had with her. I was young and I was irresponsible. I don’t know if you are my daughter, but I don’t know that you’re not either. This fight over me, this war you’ve waged on YaYa over me . . . it makes me believe you when you claim to be my daughter. I’ve denied you for a long time, and because of that you lashed out at YaYa. Your hatred for her landed you both in a bad place.
You’re locked up here, while YaYa lives in fear,” Slim said sincerely.

  Leah looked up but hid her shock. YaYa is alive, she thought in disbelief. I thought she died in the fire. I’m locked up here and she’s out there living free.

  “I know that what I did was wrong,” she lied. “I just wished that I could have you in my life the way that she did. She wasn’t even your real daughter, and I felt cheated . . . robbed. But I took things too far. I hurt a lot of people. I’d give anything to be able to make things right.”

  “You need to let the past go. I’m willing to do my part and get to know you, but your vendetta against YaYa has to end. It’s a dangerous and unhealthy fixation. If you looked through YaYa’s eyes, you might realize that you didn’t miss out on much. I was a ruthless man. I was a pimp who disrespected and manipulated women, including your mother, including her mother. I wasn’t the best father. In fact, I was the worst kind of father,” Slim admitted.

  Leah felt the tears accumulate as she thought of how rejected she felt as a child. So many bad things had happened to her because she felt that she had no father to protect her. She had been raped, neglected, beaten, when all she had ever wanted was her daddy’s acceptance and love. Now he was sitting in front of her, within arm’s reach, telling her that he accepted responsibility for her pain.

  “The things that you are blaming YaYa for is really my fault. I ask you not to hurt her anymore. Don’t hurt yourself anymore,” Slim said.

  Leah’s expression changed when the conversation went from “I’m sorry” to defending YaYa. He’s not here for me. He’s here for her. He doesn’t want me to hurt her. It’s always about YaYa.

  Leah wanted to let her rage show, but she stayed reserved and turned on her sympathy. Before Slim’s visit, she hadn’t even known that YaYa was still alive. She had figured her for dead. Now she was going to play a role to find out where to find her.

  “Hopefully one day I can look YaYa in her eyes and,” slit her throat, she thought bitterly, but aloud she said, “say I’m sorry.”

  “You just focus on getting better and maybe one day you will get that chance,” Slim said. He knew that it would never happen. YaYa would never forgive Leah for the things that she had done, but he didn’t want to make his visit a negative one.

  “Can I write to you? I don’t know how long I’ll be in here. They act like they never want to let me out, but it would be nice to send you a letter every once in a while,” Leah said.

  “Sure. I don’t see why not,” he said.

  Leah slid him a piece of paper and Slim wrote down his address. Leah knew that she would never lift a pen to a piece of paper to start one letter. She had nothing left to say. Now that she knew where Slim lived, it wouldn’t be hard to find YaYa. They were all in New York together, and the first opportunity she got, that’s where she would be as well. Leah’s hatred for YaYa was just as deep as YaYa’s hatred for her, and both of them were too obsessed with each other to let go.

  YaYa awoke to the soft kisses of her daughter, and she smiled as she noticed that Indie was still asleep. It should have been the perfect awakening, but the pounding headache that she had distracted her from the bliss. This was the scene that she had pictured in her head for so long—comfort, security, and happiness with the two people that she loved most in the world. But now that she had it, she couldn’t appreciate it. YaYa hated to be out of control, but she had to admit to herself that she had an issue with prescription pills. She had become dependent on them for emotional stability. Her happiness had been superficial, and now she was so far in that she was craving something stronger.

  She was grateful that Indie had left to handle business. He had been up in her shit ever since he asked her not to take the pills anymore. He thought that he was discreet, but she saw him checking her purse when he thought she wasn’t looking, to see if she had refilled her prescription. The first few hours had been easy. She hadn’t even noticed a difference, but by day two YaYa’s body rebelled. The bouts of diarrhea were enough to send her running right back to the pharmacy, not to mention the intense stomach pains, cold sweats, and irritability.

  She grabbed Skylar and quickly threw on their clothes. She grabbed the keys to her brand new car and rushed out of the house.

  Her eyes were barely on the road as she dialed the number to her doctor while she drove. To her dismay, the number had been disconnected. What she didn’t know was that he had been commissioned by Zya to render his services for her treatment. When the job was done, he had severed all ties. Unless she picked up the phone and called Zya herself, then her prescription had just been canceled.

  “It’s so damned hot in here,” she yelled as she blew out a breath of air and rolled down the window. “Damn it!” She had tried her best to keep it together, tried to walk a straight line, but not only did she need the medication to keep her out of the threshold of depression, she now needed them physically.

  She took a deep breath and calmed her racing heart. She really didn’t want her thoughts to drift in the direction they were going, but she couldn’t help it. If she couldn’t get what she wanted, then she would get what she needed. She turned the car around and headed toward the city. YaYa was about to pay an unexpected visit to Chase.

  When Chase opened the door to the trap house and saw YaYa standing on the doorstep, he was thrown off guard.

  “You looking for Indie?” he asked, puzzled.

  “No, umm, I’m looking for you,” she said. “Can I come in?”

  He held open the door for her and moved aside as she and Skylar entered. He felt awkward being alone with YaYa, and he had no clue why she was there. He folded his arms across his chest as he observed her. She seemed nervous as she stood bouncing Skylar on her hip and patting her back. “I need to speak with you about something, but first I need to make sure you know who you work for,” she finally said.

  Chase and YaYa had never spoken more than pleasantries to one another. He had nothing but love and respect for her off of the strength of Indie. “I don’t know what you mean,” he replied.

  YaYa sighed and looked over her shoulder. “I mean you work for me, Chase. The cocaine that you move comes from me. So what I’m about to ask you cannot leave this room. I need you to keep it between us. Not even Indie can know,” she whispered. It wasn’t until she said those words that she knew how awful she truly was. She was about to make Indie’s most loyal confidant become disloyal just to get high. She was caught in a web of lies and didn’t know how to break free.

  “Whatever it is, I’m sure you don’t got to hide it from Indie,” Chase said. He was completely uncomfortable with the position that she was putting him in. It was true that YaYa was the boss, but it was Indie who had saved him from a life of poverty. It was Indie who had put him on and showed him the rules to the game. It was Indie who he owed his life to, not YaYa. Telling her no was like a catch-22, so instead he said nothing.

  “Indie can’t know,” she barked. “I’m still in a lot of pain from the fire.” There it was . . . the excuse that she used to justify it. She knew that she was wrong, but it didn’t stop her from continuing. “The doctors won’t refill my prescription. I need something.”

  “Maybe you should talk to your doctor, ma,” he said. He frowned.

  I know she’s not coming here to cop. She know what I deal in: cocaine and heroin. She can’t be asking me for that, Chase thought.

  “I’m asking you because I respect you, Chase. Do you know anybody who sells pills or anything similar to it? I just need it this one time,” she said. She tried her best to sound normal, but she was giving off all the signs. Chase’s mother was addicted to drugs, so he knew what to look for. YaYa was jonesing, and it may not have been for crack, but a jones was a jones.

  “Nah, I don’t know nobody like that,” he replied. “Let’s just call Indie together. If you need help, he can—”

  “Forget it,” she said. “Let me just use your bathroom. Hold Sky.” She handed Chase her daughter and then
went to the back of the house.

  Chase couldn’t believe what was happening. The pit in the bottom of his stomach made him feel like he would throw up. “Damn,” he muttered. If he told Indie about this, YaYa would undoubtedly cut him off, but some things were deeper than money. This is when loyalty came into play. If YaYa had been a busto or one of Indie’s little side chicks, Chase wouldn’t have given two fucks, but she wasn’t. YaYa was Indie’s rib, his everything, his future wife, and this was a problem.

  He picked up his phone and shot a text to Indie.

  Big homie I need you to swing by here like right now. It’s 911. I’ve got to talk to you about something.

  –C

  He didn’t know how YaYa had gone from boss chick to this, but he suspected that the prescriptions she had been taking were the spark that started the fire.

  That’s why I don’t fuck with it. A drug is a drug. All of that shit will fuck up your life. Don’t matter if it comes from the dope man or the doctor, he thought.

  YaYa emerged from the back of the house and grabbed Skylar from Chase’s arms. He wanted to let her leave, but he couldn’t.

  “YaYa, why don’t you let me drive you home,” he suggested.

  “Mind your business,” she said, looking him dead in the eyes. “And keep your mouth shut.”

  She stormed out quickly. Chase didn’t have to help her. She had gotten what she had come for. She couldn’t find any pills in the house, but she had grabbed a sandwich bag full of cocaine off of the kitchen counter. She was so desperate that she didn’t even care that she was graduating to illegal drugs. She just needed to shake the kinks off. She would think about the consequences later.

  Chapter 20

  There was nothing like New York City, and being back home lit a fire in Indie. He had come up on these streets, hustled its blocks, chased its bold women. Indie was East Coast through and through. From hopping the gates in the subway to shooting cee-lo in pissy halls in the ghetto, Indie was bred in the greatest city in the world. Clad in Versace slacks and matching vest, he fit in nicely as he walked into the Empire State Building where Frank Needleman’s office was located. The finest CPA in the city, he kept the books for every major businessman in Manhattan.