Riding Dirty on I-95

by Nikki Turner

  “Listen, boo,” Mercy said as she barged into the bathroom.

  “It's cool. Keep your little secrets and I'll keep mine. I know how I'ma carry it. It's cool.”

  “Nooo …,” she whined.

  “Shut the door, so I can shit in peace,” Cleezy ordered, and shot her an evil look.

  She didn't follow his cold orders. She stood there as tears came to her eyes. She could hear the frustration in his voice, a feeling that was mirrored in her heart. “Look, my story ain't pretty, but I'll share it with you.”

  “I'm listening,” he said. He looked up at her. “You know what? Wait a minute, let me finish this here.”

  Mercy waved her hand across her nose, then exited the bathroom, closing the door behind her. She went back into the bedroom and sat down on the bed to try to gather her thoughts.

  Her heart started beating fast when she heard the toilet flush and even faster when she heard him washing his hands. She didn't know if she should walk away and let their night together be just that, one night together, or if she should just come clean about who Mercy Jiles really was. That she wasn't the superstar success he thought she was, but that she was a broke bitch getting raped by some broad, her sister at that, who'd sold her a dream. A dream that she'd bought. That she wasn't a strong stallion at all, but instead some fuckin' mule, a workhorse. It had been a long time since Mercy had given herself to a man, not just physically but emotionally as well, and Cleezy was indeed a mind trip. Did she really want to risk having him think that she was just another chick hiding a shovel behind her back, ready to go diggin' for gold? Mercy decided that she was going to have to tell him the truth. If Cleezy wasn't all talk and really wanted a real relationship with a down-ass chick—not just any chick, but her—then she was about to call his bluff.

  Cleezy came out of the bathroom and sat down beside Mercy on the bed. She took a deep breath, then started her unrehearsed, from-the-hip spiel.

  “Look, my daddy always told me to never confess to anything in this lifetime,” Mercy spoke.

  Cleezy chuckled. “Word?” Mercy nodded. “That's the same shit my daddy told me.”

  “For real?”

  Cleezy nodded. “Okay, so continue.”

  “Well, first let me say this: My daddy was my everything. He died when I was little, and my whole life changed.”

  “I feel you,” Cleezy interrupted. “Mine was too. He passed on when I was little, but I remember everything—every single thing he ever told me.”

  “Me too. That's sometimes what keeps me going. I know he's watching over me.” Mercy knew she had to change the subject because she was already on an emotional roller coaster. “Like I said, I don't confess to a damn thing. But since I'm trying to build something with you, I guess there can't be any secrets, right? But at the same time I don't want you to take what I'm saying to you and try to use it to your advantage.”

  “Come on now, be real!”

  “No, I'm just saying.”

  “A'ight, well, just say it then.”

  “Look, the people I signed the deal with, my script and all, they just basically fucked me. I'm broke. It's plain and simple. The fame always comes before the fortune. And with that being said, I had to do some things that I had no business doing in order to eat, you know.” A weird look passed across Cleezy's face. Mercy sucked her teeth and said, “No, nothing like that, nasty.” Cleezy let out a sigh of relief. He wasn't trying to get caught up in no déjà vu mess that would make him reminisce over Paula.

  Mercy continued to speak, telling Cleezy the story about her dealings with Tallya and Benjamin from start to finish. He listened attentively as Mercy told him everything from the hotel scene with Raheem and him snitching, to the whole hotel episode when they tried to rob her.

  Cleezy sat for a minute trying to take everything in. Mercy didn't know what to think. She didn't know what was running through his mind about her. After she was done, to Mercy's surprise, Cleezy took her into his arms. His embrace seemed to say: “Don't worry about it, ma, I'm going to take authority over the situation” and let her know he had her back.

  “Look, baby,” Cleezy said, releasing her and looking in her eyes. “This is how it's got to go down. Both of us can't be on I-95. If anybody is going to get their hands dirty, it's going to be me. Not you. You have a dream, you have a career, a way out. That's what I need you to focus on, your craft. Your talent. I need you to be legit—if not for you, then for us.”

  “I know, but I-95 has been my only means of survival for so long. I finally thought I was going to be able to leave that life behind me when I hooked up with Tallya, but then when she did that shit to me, I had no choice.”

  “I feel you, but peace this, you throwing in the towel.” She tried to speak, but he cut her off. “You got me now, and I'm going to make sho' you a'ight. That's on everything I love,” Cleezy said sincerely.

  Mercy didn't know what to think. Everything Cleezy said sounded good. She felt the chemistry—she knew there was something there—but was it enough for her to cut off the hand that was feeding her, the hand that had seemed to come swoop her up just when she was about to fall? She really didn't want to break off the relationship with Hyena. Although her work was done, she had been waiting around to see if she could pick up another job on the way back. But instead she called Hyena right there in front of Cleezy. She told him that she had a family emergency and had to go back home so that the meeting had to be canceled. After Mercy hung up with Hyena she flopped down on the bed, not knowing what her next move would be, realizing that she had taken her fate out of the hands of one man only to give it to yet another. It seemed to be a cycle Mercy had no control over.

  “Look, I want you to focus on your new movie and continue to create larger-than-life scripts, a'ight,” Cleezy said. “The public loves you, and you have to be able to be in the public eye.”

  “Without a doubt, I am going to always write, but I'm not going to be in the public eye no more.”

  “Why?”

  She didn't answer at first, but then Cleezy gave her a look and reminded her to “keep it real.”

  “Because I'm just not what people are expecting. I mean, look at me. Do I look like the success story everybody kept hearing about at first? Look at me. I mean really look at me. I'm too damn fat to be on anybody's red carpet, and image is everything,” Mercy admitted.

  Cleezy looked her up and down for a minute. Yeah, she was thick, but for some reason, until she'd pointed it out, he had never thought twice about it. She was phat but not fat, and very sexy to him. It didn't matter to him. “Well, we gotta get a trainer then, and we'll work out together. Me drinking and eating good got me getting a little pudgy.” He patted his stomach.

  “I been damn near working out for years and it don't work. I need a quick fix.”

  “Like what?”

  “I need some plastic surgery.”

  “I don't really agree with that mess. That's white people's shit.”

  “Well, I do, and that's what I want.”

  “Look, I don't want you cutting on yourself.” He took her hands and continued. “You cool just the way you are, and for real, don't nobody want no skinny broad.”

  “I ain't trying to be skinny. I just want to be happy with my body and my weight. I have been struggling with my weight for so long.”

  “I understand.”

  “Really, do you?”

  “Yeah, I do. Are you sure this is going to make you happy, though?”

  “Yes, I am really, really sure. A flat stomach and a small waist would be great for my self-image.”

  “A'ight, well, we'll make an appointment and see what the doctor is talking about.”

  Mercy was shocked. “Are you serious?”

  “Why not?”

  “But I told you I ain't got no money for that. The money I have is for paying my bills.”

  “Don't worry. Didn't I tell you I got you? I got that. I'm serious, Mercy. I ain't about talk. I'm a man who knows what h
e wants off the bat. I don't have to go through all the pleasantries of dating and all that bullshit. I just know.”

  “You just know, huh?” Mercy said, feeling good as she heard the sincerity in Cleezy's voice.

  “Yeah. And if this is going to make my baby happy and help enhance your image, then it's done. Look, don't worry about the money—just focus on your career.”

  Although Cleezy had never been the type to take care of any woman besides his scandalous mother, he was willing to have Mercy's back without a doubt.

  “Okay,” she agreed, and gave Cleezy a hug. “Just promise me something: Don't leave me.”

  “Just don't ever cross me.”

  CHAPTER 29

  Pretty Woman

  When Mercy and Cleezy returned to Richmond they found themselves in a whirlwind romance. When Cleezy wasn't grindin', he was taking Mercy out to the movies. This might not have been a big deal for most, but Cleezy wasn't the “going out to the movies” type of guy. If he wanted to watch a flick, he just copped the movie bootleg; but the first time he went out and bought a bootleg DVD Mercy clowned. After breaking it down to him how she felt about someone else making money off of something she put her blood, sweat, and tears into while she didn't see a penny of the profit, he had a new opinion about buying bootleg shit. He simply didn't do it. Other than that little incident, Cleezy and Mercy rarely had disagreements about anything.

  They never imagined that they could have so much in common. Within a month, Mercy had used all her movie contract as financial leverge to purchase a nice $500,000 spec home. Cleezy would give her the cash to buy the home outright later, so no questions would be asked about the source of the funds. That sucker was nice, too. The couple who'd originally had it custom-built ended up separating between the time the hole was dug and the time the carpet was laid. Luckily for Mercy and Cleezy, the couple had excellent taste, and since it was a spec home, they were able to move in right away.

  The 5,000-square-foot, five-level split home had two master suites, both equipped with Jacuzzis in the corner of the room. The suite that Mercy and Cleezy shared had a marble shower area that was the size of a walk-in closet. Over their bed was a five-by-eight skylight with an electric shade. Although Mercy couldn't do that much damage in the kitchen, it was full of state-of-the-art stainless-steel appliances. The main attraction was the lower-level entertainment center that had the perfect theater screen they would use one day to view Mercy's movies.

  For the first time ever, Mercy truly felt like she was living the life she was supposed to. Everything seemed to happen so fast. Cleezy deliberately tried not to keep long hours in the streets, but on nights when he came in at the wee hours of the morning, Mercy didn't argue with him about it. Most arguments between drug dealers and their girls were because of the late nights, but Mercy understood that hustlers could actually be out hustling and chasing the block all night long. But Mercy hugged the block herself. It wasn't literally the drug block, but she kept late hours on her computer perfecting her craft, chasing dollars. Then there were his business trips, which she didn't care about either as long as she could reach him. After all, she did the long nights on the computer and traveled herself to promote her project. Their relationship had an easy rhythm, and the communication was on point.

  Other than Cleezy leaving to make that money and her time spent working on her scripts, they spent the majority of their time with each other. They had the same tastes. They could be driving down the street and if an old hip-hop song came on the radio, they both would sing the song word for word. Their theme songs were “Sunshine” by Jay-Z and Foxy Brown, and “All I Need” by Mary J. Blige and Method Man. When “Me and My Bitch” came on by Biggie, he sang the words to her. Sometimes people in the cars alongside them would look at them and shake their heads.

  Cleezy catered to Mercy in every way. He rubbed her feet and always treated her like nothing less than a queen. Cleezy never claimed to be a huge romantic, but he would leave notes for her all the time. One morning she woke up and found a note on Cleezy's pillow that read “I'm downstairs fixing you breakfast in bed.” If they went out and Mercy picked up something to look at twice, Cleezy would often make it his business to go back and get it for her, no matter what the cost.

  If there was one weak spot in the relationship, it was the sex. Mercy had a hard time relaxing around the more experienced Cleezy. It was as if now that she found true love, the sex meant more and she worried she couldn't please him. And although Cleezy couldn't have asked for a more perfect relationship, he knew that he had to do something to help Mercy get her hips and back into the sex. He ended up paying for her to go to belly dancing classes. He told her that it was in order to tighten her stomach muscles, but really he wanted her to get the rhythm and learn to move her hips the way he needed her to. The sex got better and better each time.

  Mercy had found her prince, she lived in a castle, she had the career of her dreams. She and Cleezy were on their way to happily ever after.

  CHAPTER 30

  Cut the Check

  Three months later, Mercy flew to Los Angeles to meet with her agent, Davey, and pick up her check. Although he had told her he would overnight the check from the movie company to her, she was so excited to finally get her first huge check that she flew to LA to pick it up and to thank her agent in person. Not only did her agent give her a check, but he also gave her the date when her next movie would be shown on the big screen. Unlike her first, Mercy wouldn't be directing this film, and she was thankful for that. Directing had been fun, but she didn't want to take all that time away from Cleezy or from her writing. However, it was written in her contract that they would call her in as a consultant and she would get an associate producer credit. Davey explained to her that whatever she had experienced with Bermuda Triangle, that was small change and this was big-time.

  “You are about to be larger than life,” Davey said. “And so is this project. You have no idea what kind of press you are about to receive.” Mercy smiled as Davey continued talking. “So you have to prepare your guest lists for your premieres. The studio needs that within the next month or so, so start thinking about that.”

  “I will,” Mercy said as she sat at the table across from Davey in a trendy LA restaurant, getting a glimpse of the paparazzi who flashed their cameras at whichever star they could spot dining.

  “It's only a matter of months before they know who you are, and your life is never going to be the same.”

  “You really think so?”

  Davey smiled. “I know so.”

  Mercy smiled from ear to ear. Davey and she had a great relationship; and from day one, he'd always been intrigued with Mercy, where she came from and her thoughts. It made Mercy feel good that he wasn't just concerned about the money she could make him, but about her as a person. As Davey slid in another comment, Mercy's smile got cut short. “You know we are going to have to really get your situation with Tallya taken care of.”

  “I know.” Mercy frowned. Just hearing Tallya's name made her blood boil.

  “I know she's your sister and all but—”

  “You know what I just found out?” Mercy jumped in.

  “What?”

  “My uncle Roland, who is in the clinker—,” Mercy began, and looked at Davey.

  “Unh-hunh,” he said, nodding.

  “Well, I spoke to him right before I left to come out here.”

  “He called you collect?”

  “Davey, how the hell else you think I am going to speak to him?” she joked, because at times Davey could be so clueless about life outside of Hollywood.

  “I didn't know, maybe you went to visit him or something. Anyway, continue, continue,” he said.

  “Well, he told me that the bitch might not even be my real sister! That she has always been suspect from day one. My daddy was not the type to get no blood test or none of that done. He believed if he slept with a woman and she said the baby was his, then it was. But in my heart I know that bit
ch ain't no sister of mine. My daddy didn't raise us up like that.”

  “Well, sister, mother, or brother, she's going to have to cough up your money. I am going to have my attorney look over your contracts to see if he can find a loophole.”

  “I have my attorney working on it too, but all this legal stuff is taking too much time,” she said with a frustrated look on her face.

  “I know. Just be patient,” he looked at her and said. “So, next week I am going to meet with your friend Kathy She said she met you in the airport and promised you an endorsement deal.”

  “Oh, yeah, she got in touch with me and told me she had tried to contact me through Tallya and Tallya wouldn't give her any info. After a few months she finally got in touch with me, and I gave her your number.”

  “She's probably going to want to do something soon, so that you can wear her cosmetics for the premiere. She knows she's going to have to move fast, because if she doesn't, someone else will.”

  “I really want to deal with her because she kept her word.”

  “And she wants to deal with you, too. Here. Enjoy all this success and know that you are going to make a lot of money,” he said as he handed Mercy a check. As she pulled it out of the envelope, Davey could see the awe written all over her face. “And there's more where that came from. You know that's only part of it.”

  She felt like jumping up and doing the holy ghost dance, but she kept her composure until Davey was gone.

  After lunch, when she was alone, she looked at her check. She had never had that much money in her life. She immediately called Cleezy

  “Baby, I need a Brink's truck to help me carry this big-ass check,” Mercy exclaimed.

  “For real?” Cleezy responded.

  “It's weighing me down.”

  Cleezy laughed. “Congratulations, baby. I wish I was there with you so we could celebrate together.”

  “Me too, but I'll be home tomorrow and we can celebrate then.”