by N'Tyse
“So, I see we have dumber and dumbest,” Fantasy mused.
“Shut the hell up!”
“Ty, come on. What do you think you’re doing, huh? Do you really believe that Chyna’s just going to let y’all waltz up in here and get away with this? You must be outta your mind.”
Ty stood quiet with the gun aimed at Fantasy’s torso.
“I never had the chance to tell you, but, you know you were my favorite. I treated you like a sister, Ty,” Fantasy lied. “I don’t know what the hell Sand calls herself doing, but if you wanna play a part of it, Chyna will know that you participated every step of the way, and I won’t be able to save you then.”
Ty listened, pretending to think it over. “Oh really? So you’ll just tell Chyna I sat and watched you get yo’ ass whooped too then, huh?” she smirked.
Fantasy shook her head. Ty was making this more difficult than it had to be. “Chyna doesn’t let anyone run up in her spots and not get dealt with. I’m your only hope to save yourself. Fuck Sand! She’s dead after this shit. I can guarantee it,” Fantasy spoke with assurance. “Just untie me, Ty. You don’t even have to stay to watch what happens.”
Ty wasn’t falling for it. She grabbed Fantasy by the hair. “Aggghh!” Fantasy winced.
Ty’s left fist gripped every strand of the weave that was sewn in Fantasy’s head. “Chyna fucked up my life! Do you see my face? Take a real good goddamn look!”
Fantasy could barely keep her eyes open with the amount of pressure Ty applied to her scalp. It felt like Ty was squeezing her brain. Fantasy tried pulling away, but was still within Ty’s grasp.
“All y’all in this motherfucka can go to hell!” Ty roared. “She made a goddamn whore out of me!” She pushed Fantasy’s head back and watched her almost flip over in the chair. Ty was tired of talking, tired of explaining. She aimed the gun back in Fantasy’s direction, this time at her face.
Fantasy’s heart didn’t miss a beat. She flung her hair back. “I remember the day you first stepped foot in this house. Up all night from bad dreams of your stepfather raping you,” Fantasy teased, “and your mama not believing you ‘cause she knew her daughter was a whore! You seduced him, didn’t you?” Fantasy smirked.
Tears flooded Ty’s face. That bit of information Ty confided in Fantasy had come back to haunt her.
“You wanted it, didn’t you? Just admit it, Ty. You wanted to fuck your mama’s husband.”
Ty shook her head, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Say it, Ty. You liked it when he ripped off your panties, stuffed his dick inside of you and fucked you like you were his woman, his pussy, his ho! Didn’t you, Ty?”
“Stop it.” Ty panted.
Fantasy went on. “We helped you. We restored you and we supplied you with a fucking roof over your head. You owe Chyna your life!” she proclaimed. “If you were still on those streets, out there all by yourself, you’d be in the grave by now pushing up weeds and daffodils.” Fantasy let the words sit before she went on. “Chyna took a chance on you because she felt sorry for your ass. You were already hoing, Ty,” Fantasy reminded her. “She just made you better at it!”
Ty realized that she was shaking and the gun she held tightly became unsteady. Then as if her fingers had a mind of their own, they began sliding over the trigger.
“There’s no going back, Ty. We are what we are, so deal with it!” Fantasy fumed.
Ty wanted to shut Fantasy up. She wanted to disfigure her beautiful face the same way hers was now. Ty closed her eyes, not wanting to watch. It’d be too unbearable. Suddenly, she could hear the creeping echo from Fantasy’s heartbeat, but the longer she listened the faster it pounded through her own chest. The images of her stepfather climbing on top of her, breaking through her innocence, began to bombard her final memories of those days back at home. She could feel the tip of her index finger pressing into the belly of that gun. She inhaled, ready to release the pressure of destruction.
“I’ll be taking this back now,” Sand said, clawing the gun from Ty’s grip.
Ty opened her eyes. The whole room was spinning.
Fantasy was quiet. She swallowed hard, visualizing her life flashing before her eyes.
“Are you okay?” Sand asked Ty.
Ty hesitated before answering her. “Yeah. I guess so.” She was still trying to shake off what almost happened. “Find it?” she asked Sand.
“Nah, but I found these.” Sand tossed a pair of jeans into Fantasy’s lap. “There.”
“What you expect me to do with these?” Fantasy snapped. “Put ’em on. You taking a ride with us.”
“I’m not going nowhere!”
“Oh, you ain’t?”
Sand gave Ty a look. Ty was ahead of the game. She stormed for the kitchen, returning with a box of matches. She walked over to the windows, pushed back the curtains.
Sand looked at Fantasy and then around the house.
Fantasy rolled her eyes. “You won’t get away with this!”
Sand bent down and began untying the curtain tie-backs around Fantasy’s ankles. When she was done, she eased the pants over Fantasy’s legs. Standing her to her feet, she guided Fantasy out of the house and into the passenger seat of Chyna’s Lexus.
Ty stayed behind for a few additional minutes before she came sprinting out of the door. “Wait a second,” she told Sand once she jumped in the back with Fantasy, nearly out of breath.
All eyes were on the mansion. They waited and within a few seconds, several of the downstairs windows were clouded with smoke. Flames flickered and danced through the house to make their call for help. Sand sped away with Ty laughing hysterically in the backseat.
“I told them hos!” Ty shouted. “Now who the hell laughing?” she celebrated.
“Where are you taking me?” Fantasy asked, worried as they drove away from Chyna’s multi-million dollar home.
“Don’t worry ’bout it. Just ride.”
“What do you mean there was a fire at my house? How? And why the fuck y’all just now notifying me?” Chyna drilled the representative on the other end of the line.
“Ma’am, again, we were alerted because the smoke alarm sensors went off, setting off your security system. It’s standard protocol for us to send someone out in response to any situation in which the alarm is triggered. Now the only information that I have for you is what I’ve already given. You will need to contact your local fire station at the number I’ve provided, if you would like further details on your property. All I can do, and have done, is alert authorities.”
Chyna didn’t want to hear anymore. She felt like snatching the insensitive bitch through the phone line. She ended the call and quickly phoned her house. Once the voicemail came on, she hung up. For a second she thought about Fantasy and wondered if she got out okay. But Fantasy wasn’t as important as the millions of dollars hidden in the hardwood planks of her bedroom closet, nor the bricks of cocaine stashed in her bathroom ceiling.
The operator had mentioned that the response time was fairly quick, which Chyna hoped may have prevented any major damage. On top of that, the mansion was equipped with ceiling sprinklers throughout in the event of a fire. But even that wasn’t enough insurance to bank on.
Chyna finally pulled alongside the curb of Rene’s friend’s house and unlocked the passenger door. She had worked her enough. She’d let her go inside and rest that body of hers.
Rene reached for the door handle until she felt Chyna’s hand touch her shoulder. She slowly turned back around to face her.
“I know you may not think much of me, but Sand really is a lucky woman,” Chyna said.
Rene felt uneasy. She hardly knew how to respond to that. She pushed open the door, slid out her feet. She let the door close behind her as she took baby steps toward Shun’s front porch. When she looked back over her shoulder, Chyna was still watching her. Rene headed back toward the car. “Where is she?” she asked. “Please.”
Chyna licked her lips as
she lowered the volume on her radio. “Where’s who?”
“Sand! I want to see her. Now. Tonight. I … I … can’t do this shit anymore,” Rene said, stammering over her words.
Chyna shook her head. “You can’t quit just like—”
“If Sand wants me to trick for money and do all this nasty shit you got me doing, then maybe I’m not so damn lucky after all,” she said, raising her voice some. “Why is she using me like I’m some ho?” Rene stopped, breathed life into those words. “Is that what I am to her now?” she asked Chyna, hoping she would give her something to go on. Rene felt light on her feet. If the wind blew any harder she’d be whisked away.
Chyna didn’t utter a peep. She just sat and watched Rene take herself in circles.
Rene took the envelope of money from her purse and held it out in front of her. “Here’s the money back you gave me. Just take me to her. I’m begging you.”
Chyna looked condescendingly at the woman.
Rene shook the envelope. “Here. Take it. I don’t want anything to do with it.”
“Rene, you earned that,” Chyna finally said. “It was an agreement, and that’s your payout.”
“I said I don’t want it!” Rene backhanded her tears away.
Chyna shrugged. “Humph. All right. Suit yourself.”
Rene jumped back in the car, strapping herself in.
Chyna took off down the dark street, heading to her place. About a mile away, her phone rang again. This time, it wasn’t Fletch or one of her hos clocking in. This number she didn’t recognize.
“All you need to know right now is that I got your bitch,” Sand said firmly into the receiver the second she could hear life breathing into the other end of the line.” She put the phone to Fantasy’s mouth.
Fantasy tried screaming through the duct tape but couldn’t get a word out.
Sand pulled the phone back to her own ear. “Now, I’m gon’ make this real short and sweet. I got your bitch and your money. And if you want it all back, you better be hearing what the fuck I’m ’bout to say!”
Chyna couldn’t believe how Sand had the nerve, the audacity, and the balls to pull a stunt like the one she was pulling now. “I’m listening,” Chyna said calmly, occasionally glancing over at Rene who was looking in the mirror, trying to fix her hair and face. Sand called out the location while Chyna made a mental note. “I’ll be there. Just be cool and we’ll settle things like two grown women.”
“Nah, fuck that! We gon’ handle this shit your way. Like two niggas off the street,” Sand said. “So don’t come at me sideways if you wanna ever see this ho again.”
“Where did I go wrong with you?” Chyna asked. “You used to follow by example and now you’re just … lost.”
“Chyna, that sixteen-year-old hustler you knew retired. You talking to me now, baby. Sand. Now get to know me.”
A smile came to Chyna’s face as she remembered that fight Sand put up. “Humph, have you forgotten? I’ve already gotten to know you.”
Sand’s heart pumped with anger. “Nah, all you know about me is that I ain’t got shit to lose. Because of you, I’m wanted for murder! So whatever I do right now won’t even fuckin’ matter. They’ll just add the shit to my rap sheet.”
“Maybe you should watch how you talk to me. I don’t take lightly to threats.”
“You’re confusing me again,” Sand pointed out. “I don’t make threats.”
Click.
Chyna flipped her phone closed. Sand was holding hostage the two most precious and important things in her life—her bitch and her money. She had to think strategically. She could have made a call easily, but there was no need for added involvement because things would only get messier than they already were. She was going to handle this one alone.
When Chyna started this, it was all business. She had employed Sand to work out of a Super 8 motel, moving money back and forth between her accounts every time a wire would hit, which was daily, sometimes hourly. She did this for two and a half months without giving her any problems for only one reason—she didn’t want Chyna to lay a finger on Rene like she worried that she would. But it was too late. Chyna had her own intentions the moment she discovered Rene was a former employee of Albery Johnson’s law firm. The man she had been hunting down since she was eighteen years old.
“If someone stole half a million dollars from you, what would you do?” Chyna asked Rene out of nowhere.
Rene was caught off guard. She took her time answering. “It depends,” she said.
“And on what might that be?” Chyna wanted to know.
There was a brief pause as she eyed Chyna curiously. “On the reason they stole it,” Rene offered, clearing her throat.
“So there has to be a reason? Well, I guess I’m one ruthless bitch, because you know what I’d do?” She looked over at Rene and her glossy eyes had every bit of Chyna’s attention. “I’d kill ’em. No questions asked.”
Rene quickly turned her head and faced forward. She grew nervous and beads of sweat broke out on her forehead. “Where’d you say Sand was staying?”
Ignoring the question, Chyna reduced her speed and pulled into the abandoned, unlit parking garage. Immediately, a pungent smell hit their nose at the entrance. Chyna circled around and around until she came to the twelfth level, all while thinking how clever Sand had been for suggesting such a place to meet.
Rene stared out of the window, trying to read all the graffiti that covered the expanse of the cemented walls. As she took in her surroundings, she noted there were no other vehicles present. “Where are we?” she asked. “Is Sand here?”
Chyna slammed on her brakes and pushed the car in park. “We’re in the middle of nowhere,” she spat with attitude. With swift movements, she reached underneath her seat, then opened her car door. She hopped out and circled around the front of the car, her silver four inch Jimmy Choo’s echoing off the rooftop. Chyna took a look down over the ledge, examining exactly how high they were up from ground level. She took a deep breath and walked around to Rene’s side of the car and swung the door open.
“I’d rather wait here while you go get her,” Rene said, not feeling the situation one bit. She could sense that something was wrong, especially now with the way Chyna stared down at her. Her tight eyes were frightening and revealed nothing but sheer anger. Rene tried to keep cool and ignore the fear consuming her. She folded her arms across her chest, her lips pulled tight. Suddenly, she heard voices and began to panic. Her chest rose and fell. “I think you should just take me back to my friend’s house. I’m not up for this tonight,” she told Chyna.
Chyna unwrapped her hands from behind her back, revealing a rose pink and chrome pistol. She aimed the gun directly at Rene, watching her flinch from the sight of it. She cocked it. “Let’s go.”
20
S and sat watching Fantasy squirm helplessly on the cold pavement with her hands tied behind her back and the duct tape trapping her screams for help. She didn’t want to have to do this to her, but she had to. It was the only way out of this mess. She glanced at her watch and estimated the time from when she made the first phone call to Chyna. That was over half an hour ago and she still hadn’t shown up. She considered whether or not she should make one last call, applying a bit more pressure.
Sand was dialing Chyna’s number but stopped when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Someone was there with them. She hurried over to Fantasy and brought her to her feet, gun drawn. Sand tried counting the steps as they grew closer and closer with every passing second. She could tell by the echo of heels that whoever it was knew exactly where to find them. But they hadn’t come alone.
Sand wrapped her arm around Fantasy’s neck in a choke hold. She only allowed enough room for her to breathe comfortably. With her other arm, she raised the gun and aimed it directly at Fantasy’s head. The both of them watched four legs move in their direction. The muffled screams coming from Fantasy kept everyone on guard.
Chyna was righ
t on Rene’s heels as she walked closely behind her, a gun rubbing persistently against her spine. As they moved in closer, Rene broke down in tears.
Sand strained her eyes and hoped that she was losing it. Because every angle and curve of the body moving in on them, she recognized. It couldn’t be, but it was. Rene was standing only a few feet away from her with tears plummeting down her face. Sand started to breathe heavily.
“I see we’re all here like one big happy family,” Chyna grinned, hoping to prove to Sand that she wasn’t the least bit afraid of this little scare tactic she called herself pulling.
Sand never had so much hate for one person in her life. She gave Chyna a hard up, fuck-you stare.
“I think you have something of mines,” Chyna said, glancing down at the loaded pillowcase near Sand’s foot.
Sand was still stuck on the fact that Rene was standing only a few feet away with the bitch that she wanted to make a history lesson out of. “If you so much as breathed on her wrong,” Sand relayed strongly to Chyna.
“Sand, cut the bullshit. You’re wasting my time! If you want to keep this precious jewel of yours,” Chyna said as she slid the gun over Rene’s ass, then again to her back, “I suggest you make no mistakes here tonight.”
Sand pushed Fantasy’s head back further. “I will shoot this bitch!”
Chyna let out a laugh. “You are so fucking predictable,” she smirked. “But I’ll tell you what. Untie my woman, give her the bag, and we’ll call all this even. I’ll even let you make it out of here walking.”
Sand’s mean mug was comfortable on her face. Chyna must have thought she was running this show. “Now, are you finished making demands that you aren’t going to see happen tonight?” Sand had everyone’s attention. She tried not to look at Rene because she no longer saw that innocent, angelic face she once fell in love with. All she saw now staring up at her was a stranger.
“I’ll give you half of your money now and the other half when I’ve reached my destination.” Sand lifted the bag in the air with one hand. It was a lot lighter than it had been earlier.
