2 Timers

by Amaleka McCall

  “Where is this place? Please tell me you know something more!” Harmony said, her voice rising with urgency.

  “I’m still working on finding that out. I haven’t gone to the police yet, because that might make things more difficult for Lyric. I thought maybe your other sister could—”

  “She won’t help us. I don’t even speak to her,” Harmony interjected. She started pacing too, her insides were churning.

  “I’m going to try to save her, Harmony. I heard this punk prince frequents a club in the city on Wednesday nights. I plan to pay him a visit. Only thing is, he rolls with a tight band of security, so if you’re not a hot woman, you’re not getting near him. That’s why I came to you. I was thinking that maybe your sister or one of her dancers . . . We need someone to get close to Khalil. We need someone to help us from the inside,” Rebel proposed.

  Blake approached them cautiously.

  “Everything all right here?” Blake asked with a look of concern in his eyes.

  “You should leave. This doesn’t concern you,” Harmony snapped. Upset, she pushed past him and headed toward her house. She had to change her clothing and come up with a plan to save her sister.

  Blake spun around, stunned by her cold dismissal.

  Harmony glanced over her shoulder and could see the disappointment on Blake’s face. She felt terrible that she had stood him up again, but her sister’s situation was dire and required her immediate attention.

  Blake snagged Rebel’s arm before he could follow her inside.

  “What’s going on? How can I help?” Blake demanded.

  “It’s her sister. She’s in deep trouble right now, and we’re going to have to come up with a plan to save her. They’re pretty close. Thanks for your help, man, but we have to figure this out on our own. I appreciate the offer though,” Rebel said before he followed Harmony inside.

  Harmony had failed Lyric once—when she let Ava practically sell her sister to Andrew Harvey just to get Sista Love a record deal. Harmony closed her eyes and remembered how powerless she felt that day and how much of a disappointment she had been to herself and her sister.

  * * *

  “We got a deal. We finally got a deal,” Harmony and her sisters squealed in excitement.

  “Lyric, baby,” Ava had interrupted their little party, “Mr. Harvey wants to show you something in his office. He sees something special in you,” Ava said, struggling with her words. Ava looked at her youngest daughter with a strange expression on her face.

  Lyric’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Me?”

  Almost at the same time, all of the girls turned and looked at Andrew Harvey, and then back at Ava.

  “Go on,” Ava encouraged, her hands shaking.

  “Can I go with her?” Harmony asked, suddenly fearful for her little sister. She had always taken care of Lyric, and she didn’t trust her mother’s plans.

  “He asked to see Lyric. Alone,” Ava repeated firmly. “Now go,” she hissed.

  Harmony watched Lyric walk gingerly toward Andrew Harvey. He put his hand on Lyric’s shoulder and welcomed her with a quick squeeze. “This won’t take long,” he assured. “You’re a very special girl. I could see that the minute I laid eyes on you. You’re a star.”

  Lyric looked at Harmony, terror dancing in her eyes. Harmony turned toward Ava, a plea on her lips. There was a clarity in her mother’s eyes that had not been there before. A cold calculation

  When Andrew Harvey’s office door opened minutes later, Harmony saw her sister emerge, eyes vacant and lifeless. She moved like a robot, stiff and with precise movements. Gone was the lighthearted child with a gleam in her eye and bounce in her step.

  “Lyric?” Harmony embraced her sister. “Are you okay?” she whispered. Lyric didn’t answer; instead, she looked wide-eyed over her shoulder at Andrew Harvey in fear. Her sister trembled in her arms. Something was terribly wrong.

  “Lyric, are you okay?” Harmony pressed. Her sister didn’t utter a word. She was in a state of shock.

  “She’s fine. I’m her mother, not you.” Ava wedged herself between Lyric and Harmony. “Let’s go celebrate now. We must not forget you girls just landed your first deal. Today, you can have the rest of the day to yourself—no more work.”

  That evening, Harmony snuck into Lyric’s tiny bedroom and found her balled up in the fetal position on the floor, sobbing into her knees.

  “Lyric?” Harmony whispered, trying not to startle her and wake Ava. “Lyric, please tell me what happened. How can I help?” Harmony begged, trying to pull her sister’s arms away from her face. “What did he do to you?” she asked, her own tears burning the back of her eyes.

  Harmony scooped her sister into her arms and rocked her like a child until her sobs turned into sniffles, and then snores.

  Over the years, her mother would wake Lyric several times in the middle of the night for scheduled visits by Andrew Harvey. On each occasion, Harmony died a little inside.

  * * *

  In the past, Harmony had been powerless to protect her sister from harm. Tonight, Harmony vowed that she would never let her baby sister get hurt again. If it meant sacrificing her own happiness to save her sister, then so be it.

  * * *

  Two days later, Harmony sat in the backseat of a rented SUV. The tension in the air was so thick, it was palpable. Her nerves were on edge, and the silence was making it worse. Rebel’s friends, his backup crew, all seemed to be in different stages of contemplation. Even Kimmy was quiet, which was a first. Harmony had asked Kimmy to join the group as the decoy; they needed a young, attractive female to get close enough to Khalil, and she fit the profile perfectly.

  Rebel barely waited for the SUV to stop before he opened the door and hopped out. He was laser-focused on finding Lyric; hell-bent on saving her.

  “C’mon!” one of Rebel’s friends shouted as they scrambled out of the vehicle.

  “Are you sure I’ll be safe?” Kimmy asked Harmony again. She had good reason to be worried. From what Rebel had described, Khalil sounded like a dangerous character.

  “All you have to do is get close and tell us what’s going on. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Trust me, I can’t have another thing on my conscience,” Harmony assured, squeezing Kimmy’s shoulder.

  The scent of marijuana filled the air in the club. Rap music pounded in her ears. Harmony had never been part of the club scene. It was all too overwhelming for her senses.

  Women and men swayed to the music, some close to one another and others apart. Harmony took a seat at the bar like Rebel instructed. She watched as he and his crew moved deep inside—slapping backs and pounding fists in greeting. After about twenty minutes or so, Rebel sidled up to her with an update.

  “We don’t even need your friend. My boy said one of his chicks told him Lyric is here,” Rebel relayed. “This sick bastard brings a certain number of girls with him to parties so he can entertain his so-called friends. Sick fuck.”

  Harmony’s eyebrows shot up into arches, and her back went stiff. “But I thought . . . you said she was . . .” she stammered, the nervous energy coursing through her body nearly rendered her incoherent.

  “I’m only telling you what I heard. The girl said it seems like Lyric is here on her own free will, and that she’s so high out of her mind she can’t even speak clearly.”

  When Harmony heard that Lyric was high, her eyes narrowed in anger.

  “So we wasted our time coming here trying to save her? Instead, she’s here on her own free will and back on drugs?” Once again, her family managed to disappoint.

  “I don’t think she wants to be here. I know her better than most,” Rebel insisted. “I’m going to try to talk to her and convince her to leave with me.”

  “Not without me,” Harmony asserted, climbing down from the barstool. She was going to give her sister one chance to explain herself before she gave her a piece of her mind.

  “Private party,” a tall man with a barrel chest and
big beer gut grunted in Rebel’s face.

  “I’m invited. That’s my girl over there,” Rebel pointed at Kimmy. She waved. The man whispered something to a smaller man standing nearby. Harmony’s heart raced.

  “Five minutes to get your girl and leave back out,” the big man warned, cracking his knuckles.

  “I’ll take only three,” Rebel assured, grabbing Harmony’s arm and pulling her into the crowd.

  “I’m going to go over and speak to that punk-ass dude. He’s Khalil’s flunky. You run over to Kimmy and find out if she knows where Lyric is located,” Rebel whispered in Harmony’s ear. “Remember, we came here for one reason, so don’t lose focus. It could mean life or death—for her or us.”

  Harmony’s entire body trembled as she rushed to Kimmy’s side. Kimmy flagged her down, her hands waving urgently.

  “She’s here,” Kimmy whispered as the two embraced. “They have her in the back.”

  “Then let’s go,” Harmony grabbed Kimmy’s arm, ushering her toward the back of the room.

  “Wait. No. If we go alone, they’ll snatch her away. Or worse, they may try to take us. We’ll have to sneak in there,” Kimmy said nervously. “I don’t even know what I’m doing here. These people are rich and dangerous. We are out of our league.”

  Harmony couldn’t argue with Kimmy. She felt the same way. But every minute that went by was another minute that could be spent looking for her sister.

  “Tell me where to go and you stay behind,” Harmony told Kimmy. “There’s no point in both of us risking our necks. She’s my sister, and my responsibility.”

  Harmony gave the girl a quick hug. “Go act like you want to kiss Rebel and tell him what’s going on. If I don’t come out in ten minutes, call the police.”

  Harmony forged ahead, interrupting a few intense drug and grind parties that were transpiring in random corners of the room. She wasn’t leaving until she found her sister. Dead or alive, she was determined to get her sister out of this hellhole.

  Harmony pulled the black curtain back to reveal a door and two men standing at either side, like sentries.

  “Shit,” Harmony huffed under her breath. She turned to leave, but one of the men grabbed her arm.

  “What the . . .” she started.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at the party in the back?” the man growled. Harmony quickly nodded. She would agree to almost anything to get into that back room. The man opened the door and pushed her behind the curtain.

  “Lyric,” Harmony gasped, her legs suddenly weak. Lyric sat with a rubber tightly wrapped around her arm and a needle full of heroin, ready to jam into her vein.

  Lyric looked up at her sister, confused.

  “Hey? Who are you?” Khalil snarled. “Who let this bitch back here?” he demanded.

  “Oh, shit,” Harmony panted, racing toward her sister.

  “Lyric! C’mon, we gotta get out of here,” Harmony urged, shaking her by the shoulders.

  “Harmony?” Lyric said in stunned recognition. She dropped the needle to the ground and unwrapped the tight band from her arm. She embraced her sister tightly; she would never let her go.

  A thick arm wrapped around Harmony’s middle, lifting her straight into the air.

  “Lyric! Run!” Harmony screamed as a man carried her roughly toward the exit.

  “Harmony!” Lyric cried, held down by another of Khalil’s thugs.

  “No! You cannot have my sister!” Harmony screeched.

  Rebel burst into the room, a 9 mm in hand.

  “Let her go,” he demanded, pointing the gun at the man who dragged Harmony across the room.

  Khalil stepped out of the shadows. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t my old friend, Rebel. So you came to save your lady?” he asked. “I thought you’d never come.” Khalil laughed.

  “Look, dude. I don’t want no trouble. I’m sure I’m outgunned. I just want to take her home,” Rebel said, turning his gun on Khalil.

  “Go ahead. Take her. She’s useless to me now. All of my servants have fucked her. Please, you’ll be doing me a favor,” Khalil said cruelly.

  Rebel swallowed hard, trying to hold onto his composure.

  “Take her,” Khalil said again. “It saves me from having to dispose of her myself. She’s already done everything you can imagine.”

  “A’ight, then, let us just leave,” Rebel said, his jaw rocking.

  “I’ll let you, your bitch, and the sister all leave under one condition,” Khalil rubbed his chin. Rebel’s eye twitched, and his nostrils flared.

  “Agree to be on my next four mix tapes for free and she’s all yours,” Khalil said, a sinister smile on his face.

  “That ain’t about shit. Done,” Rebel snarled.

  Khalil put his hands up. “Good. You must really love that dope fiend whore, huh? In my country, after everything she’s done, we’d put her in a hole in the ground and stone her to death,” Khalil said maliciously.

  In one swift motion, Rebel hoisted Lyric onto his shoulder, caveman style.

  “No! Don’t touch me! No!” She was kicking, screaming, spitting, and scratching at him. “You hurt me. You betrayed me. You did this to me,” she hollered, pounding her fists against his back.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Harmony barked. They all rushed toward the exit.

  “Rebel, let me go! I hate you,” Lyric howled in anger.

  “You hate me, but I love you, Lyric. I love you more than anything in this world,” he said as he deposited her into the back of their waiting SUV.

  Harmony pulled Lyric’s head onto her lap and stroked her hair. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you now. I love you, Lyric. Don’t you ever forget that, sister.”

  Chapter 19

  Melody

  Melody stretched her arms out at her sides and yawned loudly. Her private jet had finally landed back in New York. Those two weeks at her house on the white sand beaches in Barbados had been much needed. She looked at her watch. Gary better be waiting for her with a long list of things he accomplished while she was taking her mental health break; most important of which should be her tour schedule.

  “Thank you for such a smooth ride,” Melody nodded to the pilot of the small plane. She stood at the top of the portable steps that had been propped against the jet’s door and looked down.

  “What the hell is this?” she whispered, flashes of red, blue, and white zipping down the runway. Detective Simpson exited one of the vehicles, meeting her as she stepped onto the tarmac.

  “Melody Love, we have a warrant for your arrest,” Detective Simpson said, his tone serious. Melody laughed.

  “You’ve got to be joking. Detective, I really don’t have time for your shenanigans,” she said, waving him off dismissively.

  “Ms. Love, please be cooperative. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be—” he began to Mirandize her.

  “Under arrest for what? I have a right to know what I’m being charged with,” she shouted.

  “For the murder of your mother and as accessory to the assault of Terikka Felix,” Detective Simpson rattled off a list of laws that she supposedly broke. Melody snatched her arm away and pushed him in the chest.

  “You have the wrong person! I hadn’t seen my mother in almost a year before she died! And I haven’t gone near that homewrecker, Terikka! Have you lost your mind, Detective?”

  Detective Simpson stepped aside and a small army of uniformed police officers rushed at her.

  “Get your hands off of me! I will have every single one of your badges,” Melody squealed as she was slammed to the ground and cuffed.

  “Don’t resist or you’ll make this harder on yourself,” an officer announced as he pulled her arms behind her back to place the cuffs on her wrists.

  “Get off of me!” she growled, frantically twisting her arms away from the officers. “When I get ahold of my lawyer, I will own the NYPD! You have no idea who you’re messing with.”

  “We got a fighter here! She’
s resisting,” the handcuffing officer announced, his knee pushing painfully into her back.

  Melody switched gears, trying to reason with the detective. “Okay, okay,” she acquiesced. “Detective Simpson, I want to talk to you. Clearly, there’s been some kind of mistake. You could not possibly have evidence that suggests I had anything to do with those crimes,” she said, her voice quivering in fear.

  “Trust me, Ms. Love, if we didn’t have evidence and at least one witness, we wouldn’t be arresting you today,” he replied dryly.

  “But I didn’t do it. Get off of me. I will have all of your jobs. Do you know who I am? I am Melody Love. I don’t lose! You have no right!” She shouted insults at the officers holding her down. They had found her guilty without trial or jury.

  Right before Melody was loaded into the waiting police car, she saw Gary standing near the line of police cruisers.

  “Oh my God! Gary! Please tell them that they have the wrong person! You know me! Tell them I didn’t do it,” she pleaded with her friend. Gary quickly turned his body and averted his eyes. Melody’s heart sank, and her entire body went cold as comprehension washed over her.

  “You bastard! You lying bastard! You set me up! This is all your doing! I was so good to you. I always looked out for you. I brought you up from nothing to something! You won’t get away with this, Gary! I swear that when I get out, I’ll be coming straight for you. I will kill you myself—then they can rightfully arrest me for murder!” Melody hurled her threats like hard stones. She had trusted Gary with every aspect of her life, including her mother. And now Ava was dead, and she was going to jail for her murder. She should never have let that weasel into her life. He had been the one to bring her the news of Ava’s death.

  * * *

  “It’s your mother . . . Ava Love . . .” Gary stuttered.

  “Ava? What now?” Melody sucked her teeth. “Is that what you interrupted me for?” Melody had told her mother six months prior that she didn’t want anything to do with her, although Melody still sent Ava a monthly allowance. Melody didn’t send the money out of the kindness of her heart, but to keep her away.