“Nah son. I choose to live,” Dame said
“Then don’t get in the way and die, son.”
“Die. Are you threatening me, Scar?”
“Whateva, B.”
“Whateva B my ass nigga. If you eva come out yo mouth like that at me again, its gon be some problems kid,” Dame countered with his own threat. “She was a woman, you coward muthafucka!” He continued screaming at Scar, unable to control his own rage.
“Fuck you Dame. That black bitch is the reason why I got one arm son. That’s why I killed her and that mangy ass dog!!”
Killed her? This nigga doesn’t know that Van is still alive.
Scar had made one of the most crucial mistakes a predator of the streets could make. He went on the hunt, but didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to feast on his prey.
Dame smiled a thin, grim lined smile before responding.
“Look Scar, as of this day, this hour and this time,” he paused, then continued, “Our friendship is over, son.”
“It is what it is then, B,” Scar quickly responded.
“And remember what I said Dame, stay out tha way or—”
“Or what Scar? Son let me make myself perfectly clear to you for the last time. Don’t threaten me nigga, and you remember this, I never was afraid to kill and I’m not scared to die!!!”
After that, Dame simply hung up the phone. His entire body tensed as his beautiful wife Gazelle walked up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Are you okay baby?” she asked him softly.
“I’m cool, Gee.”
“What’s going on, Dame?”
“Come over here,” he said leading her to their sofa.
Dame sat down next to Gazelle. For a few moments, he said nothing. Just gave her a blank stare. Finally, he inhaled, then exhaled a long breath, and began telling her about Scar. When he finished, Dame fell back against the soft pillows on the sofa, as if the story itself had nearly drained the life out of him. Gazelle reached out and rubbed his arm.
“What are you going to do?”
“I…I don’t know what to do Gee. Me and that nigga been through a lot. Did a lot of grimy shit together, ma.”
“But you’re not that person anymore Dame. You have a beautiful family now. Three women that love everything about you,” she continued drawing a hopeful look from him.
“Damn Gee, how can I face Q after this? I mean, this wouldn’t ever have happened if I hadn’t brought Scar down south.”
“How you face him? With the truth Dame,” Gee spoke, answering her own question.
“Quentel almost lost one of the most important things in his life. Are you listening to me Dame?”
“Yeah…yeah I hear you Gee.”
She continued, “this is the same man that risked his life to save not only my life, but also our beautiful little girl.” Gazelle stood to her feet.
Looking down at him, she spoke again.
“You have to tell him Dame. And I trust that you will make the right decision.”
She turned and walked back into the kitchen, leaving Dame alone to think. He knew that Gee was right, but how would Q react? Would he think that he was involved?
Would he think I knew Scar’s intentions all along? I have to tell him.
He gave one short glance towards the kitchen where Gazelle was, then snatched up his keys and rushed out the door.
Chapter Seven
“How Far Will You Go?”
Undercover Officer Vie waited until the young nurse’s assistant turned back towards the small file cabinet, before she attempted to walk unnoticed by the desk leading to ICU.
“Eh hmmm… excuse me miss, may I help you?” the young lady asked before she could make her getaway.
Vie didn’t panic, she’d learned in her line of work that being prepared for any type of situation could easily separate life from death.
“Oh, excuse me…pardon my manners. I’m a private investigator for the Parker family.” She said, handing the young nurse a business card.
The young lady looked at the card for about three seconds before passing it back to her. The Parker family had been dealing with the brutal attack of their eighty-eight year old grandmother, who the doctors had given very little chance of survival.
“Room #703,” the young nurse said, her eyes filling with tears.
“Thank you.” Vie said, giving her own rendition of a sad face.
After leaving the nurses’ station, Vie walked to the far end of a hall with room numbers beginning with sixes. She quickly changed directions to the opposite hall.
“710, 709, 708,” she mumbled to herself as she moved down the long hallway.
Room 704 could have been located in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean and I would’ve found it, she thought as she took in the large number of flowers, bouquets, get well cards and several small teddy-bears lying all around the entryway of the room
Several voices could be heard coming from inside. Vie picked up one of the small bears; a white one. She opened the small card attached to its neck.
It read: Van, self-pity is not a viable option. You always told me that there are a lot of things that will be beyond our control; things that we are going to have to face with dignity or fear. You are my soul-mate, and I do not want to live the rest of my life without you. We are one… Q.
Still intrigued after forcing the moisture away from her eyes, Vie found it hard to contain the curiosity of wanting to meet the person behind the writing on the card. Shaking the revelation from her thoughts, she allowed her police instincts to take over. She strained her ears as she tried to filter the voices from inside room 704.
“Can I help you?” a voice said from behind her.
“Oh aah…I... I was just looking. Just looking for room 703,” Vie was finally able to get out.
She turned, and at five feet ten inches tall herself, Vie had to look up into the face behind her.
“703 is right there,” he pointed. His voice was mellow, but direct.
“Tha..thank you,” Vie said, still somewhat speechless.
She moved over towards the door of room 703, when his voice stopped her again.
“Do you know them?”
“Pardon me?”
“The Parker family, do you know them?”
“Only through dealing with the situation involving the attack on the elderly Mrs. Parker.”
“So you’re a PI?”
“Yes I am,” she answered somewhat impressed at his quick wit and equally sharp intellect.
As he continued to speak, Vie took in a complete inspection of him. Tall, with beautiful skin, and a well-toned body that would be impossible to go unnoticed. He was ruggedly good-looking.
“She was a first lady, you know?”
“A what?”
“I said, she was a first lady.You know, married to a preacher,” Vie nodded in understanding.
As they talked for a short while longer, Vie found that there was something about him; a certain aura. She had never seen or crossed paths with a man with this type of charisma and style. He had a sympathetic heart, and a swagger that could charm a woman long before they would engage in any type of conversation. With a smile that was almost intoxicating, their brief encounter came to an end, but not before nearly giving Vie heart failure.
“Well it was nice meeting you.”
“Do you have a name?” he asked her.
There was that inviting smile of his again.
“Please forgive my rudeness. I’m Joan,” she said, extending her hand. Like I said, it’s nice to meet you.”
“I’m Quentel…Quentel Jackson.”
Then, instead of shaking her hand, Officer Vie was introduced to a pair of the softest lips on a man that her neatly manicured hand had ever felt. For a moment, she just stood there with a dumbfounded expression.
“Is there something wrong?” he asked.
“No…no…” Vie answered quickly, stopping herself from staring too long.
>
“I was just thinking, that’s all,” she said, instantly regretting her words.
“What were you thinking about?”
Think fast, she silently scolded herself
“Well Quentel, I was just thinking that I should be getting inside.”
She nodded her head towards the door, indicating what she meant.
“Alright good luck with the case.”
“Thanks Quentel.”
“Just call me Q.”
She smiled and turned to leave.
“Joan...”
“Yes,” she said facing him once more.
“Ahh... the teddybear,” he said.
Vie looked down at the small bear. She was so caught up in the moment, that she’d completely forgotten that she was holding it. The embarrassment of the situation filled both her cheeks with blood.
“Oh. Sorry,” Vie said, unable to keep herself from blushing like a schoolgirl.
She sat the teddybear down, looked into his eyes once more, smiled, and then quietly stepped inside room 703.
Chapter Eight
“Better Believe It”
Quentel stepped into Van’s room, and immediately, his heart sank. Most of the crew was there, including some of the girls. Each of them was standing around Van’s bed with bleak expressions on their faces. All except Van’s mother, who was pounding on the chest of Van’s doctor with a clenched fist. It was easy to see that she had been crying.
At that very moment, Q knew that his life was over. There was so much he needed to straighten out with Van; so many promises that he needed time to make good on. Immediately, he closed his eyes and began praying to God, asking him not to spare his life, but to allow his soul-mate easy passage.
“Quentel” Van’s mother’s voice reached him, snapping him out of his temporary reverie.
He solemnly raised his head, meeting her gaze. The doctor began speaking before Van’s mother could continue.
“Mr. Jackson, may I have a quick word with you?”
He paused and looked over at Van’s mother once more, then proceeded.
“Miss Ellerbe has awakened from her comatose state.”
“Wha…what?!!!!” Q said in a shocked tone.
“Calm down, Mr. Jackson. Please, you have to stay calm.”
“But I…I thought she was…” He let the last of his words dissolve on his lips.
“No son, Miss Ellerbe is ….Hmmm excuse my language, but she is one hell of a fighter.”
Q felt as if his entire body was going to overflow with joy.
“Thank you Doc…”
He paused, as if contemplating his own thoughts, then asked.
“But what’s next?”
“Well, like I was desperately attempting to explain to her mother, Mr. Jackson, we’re going to have to force Miss Ellerbe back into an induced coma.”
“Wait. Wait a second Doc, but—”
“Please. Please Mr. Jackson, let me finish.”
“Sure Doc, say your piece.”
“Very well, now as I was saying, it is in her best interest, that we immediately place our patient, into an induced coma.”
“Why?” Q asked.
“Mr. Jackson, the wounds Miss Ellerbe suffered were very severe and painful, to say the least. These types of wounds have to heal internally, first. We will need the least amount of movement from her as possible.”
“Will it put her in any type of additional danger? And what about scars?” Q asked both questions at once.
He knew that it would be impossible for Van not to have any scars on her once flawless body, but he wanted to take every precaution necessary in protecting her.
“I think the real danger is over, Mr. Jackson. Each day we expect her to get stronger. I’m afraid, there will be some scars, but in the same token, the surgery we performed was a success. The scars left will be barely visible.”
“Is she still awake?” Q asked.
“Yes, but only for a few more minutes. We don’t want her having to deal with all the excessive pain for an extended amount of time.” The doctor smiled, then continued. “I must say though, she is a little fighter.”
“That’s right Doc, a pit-bull in a skirt,” Q said.
“A what?” the doctor asked, confused.
Q looked at the doctor, and nearly burst out in laughter, at his ignorance of street slang.
“Never mind, Doc,” Q said.
“Can I speak with her?” he finally asked.
“Very little, Mr. Jackson, and please be as brief as possible. We really need to proceed with her care.”
“I understand doctor.”
The rest of the crew seemed to part like the Red Sea as Q approached Van’s bedside. Although severely weak, she managed a faint smile as he stood next to her. With tears streaming down his face, Q bent over and gently placed his lips on hers. Moving from her lips to her ear, he softly spoke.
“I love you ma. Don’t talk, just listen. I know everything, everything Shawty”
Choking back tears, he continued.
“Scar is mine!!! I promise you that. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you, baby. I will never —”
The soft touch of Van’s hand stopped Q’s words in mid-sentence. She wiped the tears from his cheek, and tried to force words from her lips.
“Ba… Ba… Bear. Help Ba.. Bear…”
“Shssssh, don’t talk baby,” Q whispered.
He knew that he couldn’t possibly tell her that Bear was dead. Not now, not in her condition.
“I... I love you,” she mumbled before the weight of her eyelids became too heavy for her weak body to bear.
“Excuse me Mr. Jackson, but that’s going to be all,” the doctor said as he approached him from behind.
“Alright cool, Doc. Do what you have to do,” Q said.
He gently placed her hand back down, and wiped the remaining tears from his eyes. With anger boiling from deep within, he turned to his number one partner in crime.
“You ready homie?”
After wiping away his own tears, June gave him a murderous stare.
“Let’s do it bro.”
With that said, they turned and walked out the door. Once outside the door, Q stopped and turned to June.
“June, wait a second,” he said as his iPhone vibrated against his hip.
Checking his inbox, he saw it was a text from Dame. He read the message.
“What is it?” June asked
“Dame wants me to meet him at our spot, June.
“Now?”
“Yeah…right now! And, he put our emergency code behind the message,” Q continued.
“Let’s roll,” June said, without asking any more questions. Just as they turned in the direction of the elevator, its doors opened and Tee stepped out of it into the hallway.
“Tee.”
“Quentel!”
They both said each other’s name at the same time.
“What’s up, Tee?” Q finally asked.
“What’s up Tee? Is that all you have to say to me Quentel?” she asked him. Q could tell that Tee had an attitude.
“What more do you want me to say, Tee?”
“Well, let me see,” she said taking another step closer to him, before continuing.
“First of all, I would like to know why are my calls being ignored, Quentel. Secondly,” she went on, without giving him a chance to answer the first question. “You have a son who misses his father. Now tell me why a bitch getting the silent treatment?”
She was so close to him now, that Q could smell her fresh breath. Q’s mind momentarily flashed back to the last day he’d spent with Tee, which happened to be the very same day that his phone had somehow been placed on silent-mode.
Why would she touch my fuckin phone? Anger began to cloud his judgment. How the fuck can she march her ass up in here questioning me, when all this shit is her fuckin fault.
“Yo Q,” June said, jarring him from his thoughts.
“Yeah, what
is it homie?”
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