“Willow, sweetheart. I want to do right by you,” I tell her. “I hope that you understand and believe that.”
I grip her hand and will her to open those big brown eyes. “I could use a sign right about now.”
Beep! Beep! Beep!
Crestfallen, I leave the room and search for Mason. I pass the Vice Lord soldiers keeping watch outside Willow’s room and make a beeline to NICU. It’s the only other place we split our time. But I don’t see Mason. The floor is quiet; two nurses are stroking the backs of babies in the incubators.
“Are you looking for Mason’s daddy?” a nurse inquires, approaching me.
“Yes. Is he around?”
“You just missed him. Said that he was going out to take a walk. He seemed a bit distracted.”
He’s mad. He’s done this a couple of times in the past two weeks. “Thanks,” I tell the nurse, and then go downstairs in search of my daughter’s fiancé.
The moment I exit out of the hospital doors and into the cool night air, I see an SUV speeding toward Mason’s back.
“Mason! Look out!”
The vehicle’s revved engine must’ve caught his attention. Mason spins but doesn’t dodge out of the way in time.
I scream as Mason is knocked back a good five feet, where he crashes into a parked car.
I rush forward as three big men jump out of the SUV and race to grab Mason.
“Hey! What are you doing?” I sprint, but my knees are bad. “Help!”
Regardless, the three suit-wearing thugs punch Mason, drag him to the Mercedes SUV, and toss him in.
I’m able to make it to within ten feet of the SUV before they pile back in and peel off.
“Stop! Wait!”
Tires squeal and the engine is gunned. Before I know it, the SUV is gone.
61
Cleo
I can’t get my mind right. I’m a tough girl. I’ve always been tough, but something happens to you when a man violates you as if your humanity is of no consequence. It makes you feel so low that you want to crawl under a rock. What am I going to do? Who is going to believe me? How am I going to get out of my contract with Diesel Carver?
My family has been wonderful. Even my little cousins Jamie and Kay are in on the comfort train, bringing me hot tea and Granny’s delicious pecan pie. In between those treats, I’m in the shower scrubbing myself raw but never getting clean.
Kobe is angry. Angrier than I have ever seen him. Yesterday, he paced around the house like a caged tiger. I have no doubt that if my rapist had been a random brothah on the street, Kobe would’ve murked the guy without a second thought—but Diesel isn’t some random. Depending on who you ask, he’s the third most powerful man in the set here in Memphis, not to mention the resources he controls from Atlanta. Toss in that he’s also the man holding the golden ticket to take my career to the next level, and we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.
Diesel doesn’t give a damn. He called my cell phone several times earlier today. In each message he stated how he’s only checking up on me and asked me to call him back. Does the muthafucka really believe that I don’t remember what he and his Amazonian bitch did to me? Did Bullet and Beast also get in on the act?
I block that thought from taking root in my mind.
I haven’t seen Kobe today. Maybe he’s tired of watching my ass mope around this house without being able to do anything. I shouldn’t have told him. It’s another regret that I’ll add to the list of regrets in my life. In addition to dealing with the rape, I’m still weeping for Kalief. I’m confident that his life was snuffed out because of me. Of all the vices he had, I’m the reason that he’s no longer drawing breath.
Sleeping in fits, I wake up late and find Granny in the living room, stressed out.
“What are you still doing up?”
Granny sighs and turns away from the window. “Kobe isn’t back.”
“Where did he go?” I ask, continuing on to the kitchen to check whether we have any ice cream. There’s a half gallon carton of butter pecan left, and instead of grabbing a bowl and scoop, I select the largest spoon in the dish holder and dig right in. When I return to the living room with my soul-soothing ice cream in tow, I realize that Granny hasn’t answered my question. “Granny, where is Kobe?”
She avoids my gaze as she settles into her La-Z-Boy.
Alarm bells go off. “Please tell me that he hasn’t gone and done something stupid.”
She shrugs.
“Granny!”
Her gaze snaps up. “He’s simply being the man of this house and protecting those who live under this roof.”
“Oh my God.” I stumble backward.
Granny refuses to look cowed.
“What have y’all done? Do you know who Diesel Carver is? Do you know what he can do to Kobe without hardly lifting a finger?”
“I don’t give a damn who he is. Nobody comes after ours. We take care of our own. What happened to Essence will not happen again.”
I shake my head, wondering how I’d forgotten that my granny has a strong thug streak in her. Kobe going after Diesel could be as much her idea as his.
“Oh my God.” I spin around and drop the carton of ice cream in the kitchen sink before racing to my bedroom to throw on some clothes.
“What are you doing?” Granny asks, reaching my bedroom with remarkable speed.
“What do you think? I’m going to stop my brother from committing suicide.” Jeans on, shirt on, I drop to the floor and search under the bed for my sneakers.
“You’re going to do no such thing,” she snaps back. “You let your brother do what he has to do.”
“My brother doesn’t need to die for me. That would make this a whole lot worse. Can’t you see that?” I cram my feet into my sneaks and try to race past her.
“No!” Granny latches on to my wrist with surprising strength. “You stay here. I mean it.”
It pains me, but I rip my arm out of her grasp and keep heading toward the front door. I sprint past the sleepy faces of Jamie and Kay, who’ve awakened to the sounds of my and Granny’s arguing.
Granny, on her bad knees, hobbles after me out the front door.All the while, she demands that I get back in the house. For once the car starts right up, but as I peel away from the curb, I have no idea where I should go. The club? Diesel’s house?
I have the option to call Diesel just to find out where he is, but realize that doesn’t solve our main problem. We need help. We need power. There is only one place where I can get both of those things: King Isaac.
62
Nefertiti
In the SUV
Listening to Diesel and Beast land one punch after another on this Fat Ace character has my stomach rolling. It’s bone crushing bone, and wet sounds signal that our victim is bleeding all over the backseat.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
How do I let Diesel talk me into these illegal capers? But after a solid five minutes of this, I figure I have to remind them. “Don’t kill him yet.” That translates in my head to mean don’t kill him around me. If they are going to make another muthafucka disappear, I’d prefer to know close to nothing about it. At least my reminder gets the punches to slow down. Hell, I’d be surprised if the man is even conscious. I didn’t intend to hit Fat Ace with the car, but Diesel reached over, took control of the wheel, and pressed his foot on the accelerator.
“Y’all muthafuckas have picked the wrong brothah to mess with,” Diesel sneers. “Where’s that other little nigga at? Your brother Profit,” he shouts.
Fat Ace grunts.
There’s another hard punch across his jaw.
“We can do this shit all muthafuckin’ night if you want to. Y’all niggas thought it was fuckin’ cool to roll y’all’s asses down to my club and take money out of my pocket? Y’all sloppy muthafuckas don’t know who the fuck you’re messing with.”
There are a few more punches, but I keep my eyes on the road.
Twenty minutes later, I pull behi
nd Club Diesel. Before I can even shut off the engine, Diesel and Beast are dragging Fat Ace’s big ass out of the vehicle.
I remain in my seat.
When the men reach the back door, Diesel turns around and hollers, “You comin’?”
It didn’t really sound that much like a question—more like an order to get my ass in the building. As always, I pop out of my seat and rush to the door.
Once we get into the building, Madd and Matrix join in and the interrogation begins. “Just tell me where he is,” Diesel repeats. “I understand that you don’t want to rat out on fam. I understand your dilemma, but I know that nigga was here—I recognized him and your boy Tombstone on the tape. Tombstone did my ass a favor in committing suicide by cop. But your li’l bro’s ass got to go, too. Bet that shit.”
Silence.
Diesel whips out his .45 and blasts a hole into Fat Ace’s left foot.
Pow!
Fat Ace’s body jerks but he doesn’t make a fuckin’ sound. The second bullet blows open a kneecap.
Pow!
“Grrrrr!”
“Oh. Do I now have your fucking attention?” Diesel asks, nostrils flaring. Nobody expects this man to talk, so I can only guess that Diesel has only one real plan here: murder.
63
Cleo
Shotgun Row
My heart is in my throat when I knock on Momma Peaches’s old home. It’s strange to be over here when she’s no longer here to hold down the fort. Memories of the block parties and barbecues that I’ve attended over the years flash in my head, but I remain focused on the current problem.
“Heeey, Cleo,” Chantel greets, waving from her front porch. “Whatcha doing over here?”
Nosy ass. “I need to speak with Isaac.”
Chantel looks me up and down. “Making a play for the crown?”
“What?”
She waves me off. “I don’t blame you. Every bitch on the block is throwing their hat into the ring.”
I roll my eyes and bang on the door. The idea of the neighbor keeping tabs on King Isaac’s supposed booty calls is more than sad. After the banging grows desperate, a shirtless Isaac snatches open the door.
“What the fu . . .” He looks me up and down and a grin hugs his lips. “Li’l Ms. Cleo. What brings you to my door?”
My heart bobs in the center of my throat.
He lifts a curious brow when I remain mute. “Well, I don’t believe in keeping a beautiful woman out in the cold. Care to come in?” He steps back.
Despite Chantel staring a hole in the side of my head, and my sudden terror at being around such a large and imposing figure, I step inside.
King Isaac’s smile spreads as he closes the door. “I have to admit that I’m surprised to see you. Can I get you a beer?”
I shake my head. It’ll probably be a long time before I accept a drink that I haven’t poured or bottled myself.
“All right. Mind if I grab one?”
Again, I shake my head.
“It’s a good thing that you can sing well. You’re not much of a talker, are you?”
I flash a nervous smile. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” He strolls toward the kitchen, and though I’ve sworn off men, I note the impressive prison muscles and smooth swagger of the OG. Momma Peaches was a lucky woman.
Seconds later Isaac returns, taking a drink of his chilled bottled beer and staring at me.
I look around, nervous about how to go about this.
“Soooo . . . ,” Isaac begins. “Would you like to join me in the living room? I’m in the middle of binge watching Game of Thrones.”
“I . . . I . . .” My throat squeezes shut. I march into the living room and plop down on the sofa.
Isaac eyeballs me. “Oookay.” He strolls behind me. “You’re going to have to help me out. How am I supposed to play a nervous, beautiful woman knocking on my door at this time of night?”
“I . . . I have a problem that I need your help with, and I don’t know how to ask.”
Silence.
I glance up. Isaac is still sipping and staring. “Is this favor money or . . . ?”
“It’s my brother. He’s about to do something really stupid, and I need your help to stop him.”
Isaac laughs. “Can you be a little less vague?”
I swallow and go for it. “Kobe is going to try and kill your nephew Diesel.”
Silence.
“Kobe . . . is no match for Diesel. I’m hoping that you could step in?”
“And why would I do that?” Isaac takes another drink. “I say good luck to him.”
Stunned, I blink. “I don’t think that you understand what I’m saying.”
“Surprisingly, it wasn’t that difficult to follow.” He takes a seat in an armchair.
“You don’t understand. Kobe isn’t . . . strong. He isn’t . . .”
“He’s a soldier?”
I nod. “But—”
“Then I’m sure that he can take care of himself.”
Tears spring to my eyes.
“Aww. Don’t do that. I can’t stand it when women cry.”
“But you are my last hope. I’ve already lost a sister. I can’t lose my brother, too. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have told him about . . . what Diesel did to me—but I was upset.”
“What did he do to you?”
I keep my mouth shut and fight back a tidal wave of tears. “That . . . that isn’t the point. I just need someone to stop Kobe. He’s no match for Diesel. He’s a monster. I mean, I’m sorry. I know he’s your nephew.”
“By marriage, but frankly I can’t stand the son of a bitch. I’ll send positive vibes in Kobe’s direction. Other than that, I let men settle their own beefs.” He tips up his bottle again.
I weigh my next words carefully. “What if I told you that . . . I think that Diesel had something to do with Momma Peaches’s death?”
The bottle comes down. “What?”
I swallow hard under Isaac’s hard stare. “That day, I found Momma Peaches in the church. Seconds before, I saw Diesel speeding out of the parking lot.”
“Oh. That.” He returns to his beer. “I know about that. It’s not what you think.”
Shit. “So you know about him paying his goons to shoot up her burial, too?”
Isaac’s face changes. “What?”
“After we attended the funeral, he gave some excuse why we needed to head to the studio to work on my demo instead of going to the burial. But after the shooting, I saw Diesel paying one of his bodyguards a lot of money.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.”
“Beast still had a gold flag hanging from his back pocket,” I lie. I hold my poker face while Isaac stares again.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I didn’t think you’d believe me.”
“And you think that I believe you now?”
I fucked up. He’s not going to help. Diesel will kill Kobe. And it will be all my fault. God, I need a miracle.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Someone hammers on the door.
Isaac sighs and turns. “I’m popular tonight.”
I exhale and berate myself for not having a better plan.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Old Ruff Dog! How the hell are you?”
“Good. Good. I hope I’m not disturbing you?”
My head bounces up as I catch the voice of Pastor Hayes.
“No. No. C’mon in.” Isaac closes the door. “I know I didn’t get a chance to thank you for the lovely service you helped me put together for Peaches. Except for the fireworks at the end, I’d say that everything went well.”
Pastor Hayes’s nervous laughter drifts in my direction. “Well, Peaches is why I came over,” he says. “I got ahold of some disturbing information and I’ve prayed about what I should do about it. I went down to the police station, but then . . . the old Ruff Dog came out and told me that I needed to bring this information to you to handle.”
&nbs
p; “Oh yeah? What kind of information are we talking about?”
“Well. A few months back the church installed new security cameras inside the sanctuary. I didn’t know about it at the time. Ms. Josie handled most of the church business and things like that. Since Ms. Josie’s passing, a few things have slipped under the radar. When the security company didn’t get their last payment, they called me. I looked into it and found out that the cameras are set to record anytime someone comes into the sanctuary. Motion detection. Anyway, they were on the morning Peaches was killed.”
I hold my breath as I listen in on the men’s conversation.
“Are you fucking with me?” Isaac asks.
Pastor Hayes shakes his head. “Peaches was a good woman. She may have colored outside of the lines a time or two. But she was a good woman. She didn’t deserve what happened to her.”
The pastor holds up a disc. “I made a copy. You should see this.”
Both Isaac and I stare at the silver disc.
Pastor Hayes finally notices me. “Oh. Cleo. I didn’t know that you were here.” His face darkens.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I want to see the footage, too.”
Isaac takes the disc from the pastor and walks over to the DVD player beneath the large-screen TV. By the end of the recording, we’re all left speechless.
64
Hydeya
At home, I step out of the shower to the sound of a ringing phone in the bedroom. I throw a towel around my body and rush to answer the call, just making it before the call goes to voicemail.
“Hello.”
“Yes. May I speak to Captain Hawkins, please? It’s an emergency,” a frantic woman shouts.
“This is Captain Hawkins,” I tell her.
“Oh. Thank God. You gotta come. Hurry. They grabbed my son-in-law right here in the parking lot.”
Queen Divas Page 26
