by Ashley
“Last but not least, we have Brick. He has a following like no other.” The slim man looked over at the well-built man, who remained quiet and observant. He had a real intense look, and his stature and strong facial features made him intimidating. “He owns the streets and has the muscle to handle whatever needs to be handled if a problem arises. His connections with the GDs and the Bloods will be instrumental. We need his followers to follow us. With that, we will be strong and have a street presence.”
The room was quiet, and everyone looked at one another, trying to feel one another out. Most of the people had either done business together or heard about one another through the underworld’s grapevine. So no formal introduction was needed. They all had one thing on common: they were successful drug dealers with power. They couldn’t believe what was happening, but they all wanted in. One by one, each of them began smiling and slowly nodding, as if saying, “It’s time to get money.”
“Well, I guess there is nothing more to say. Anybody up for a trip?” the slim man asked as he rubbed his hands together, smiling.
“Absolutely,” Anari said as she looked at him with her piercing eyes. “One more thing. Where are we? It’s beautiful,” she said, looking around at the gigantic room and its artwork.
“We are in Rome. This is inside the Vatican,” the man said.
“You got to be kidding me,” she said. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. They were talking business at the world’s most religious place. This institution was more powerful than all of them combined. It was eerie.
“No lie. I will let you guys catch up and mingle. I will be outside waiting. Everyone has a car waiting for him or her outside. From here, we will go to the jet strip and head out. I will explain everything you need to know on the trip there.
“White people have been doing this for years. It’s our turn. We don’t even have to name this thing of ours; the public has already done that for us. Might as well accept and roll with it. Welcome to the Illuminati,” the man said as he fixed his tie and cufflinks. He headed out of the room, leaving everyone in awe.
“What’s your name, by the way?” Baron asked just before the slim man exited.
“Lazarus, but you can call me Ghost.” he said smoothly, without even turning around. He disappeared into the darkness, leaving them alone.
“Lazarus?” Baron repeated with a frown. “From the Bible?” He had never heard such a peculiar name.
* * *
An hour later, they were all on a private jet, preparing to take off. Ghost was the last to board. The jet was by far the most luxurious aircraft that any one of them had ever been on. The plush interior was comfortable, and everyone sat around the small table in the middle of the floor. Ghost grabbed a bottle from the small fridge and began passing out glasses. He looked at the pilot and nodded. The sound of the propellers cranked, and Ghost began pouring everyone some of the bubbly.
“Here’s to the new regime,” he said as he raised his glass.
“To the new regime,” everyone said in unison.
But just before they downed their drinks, Ghost leaned over and lifted the curtain so they could see outside. “I’m glad you all decided to get onboard. Because this was the alternative.” He looked out the window. Everyone’s eyes focused on the limo that was parked a few yards away from the jet. A man stepped out of the car while holding a woman who was beaten badly. He held her roughly by the back of the neck. As they looked closer, they saw that it was Dahlia. The man stood behind her and tossed her around like a rag doll as she cried in pain. Her lip bled, and both eyes were swollen. Ghost nodded, and the man pulled out a gun and sent two bullets through the back of her skull. Dahlia dropped, lifeless on contact. Those on the jet grimaced in disgust and turned their heads to avoid seeing the guts and brain matter splattered on the ground. Ghost closed the curtain and held his glass up. Karma was real. Dahlia’s greed had led directly to her demise. In the end, she was her biggest enemy. Liberty did not have to pull the trigger on her, because Dahlia had destroyed herself.
“Welcome to the Illuminati,” Ghost said, just before the jet took off and headed into the clouds.
It was the beginning of a new era.
EPILOGUE
RELIEF. LIBERTY WAS FLOODED WITH IT AS she emerged from the airport. After bidding farewell to Baron, she had quickly caught the first flight back home to Detroit. She felt as if all of the weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Finally, there was no looking over her shoulder, no fear, and no burden. Liberty had always stayed in her lane when it came to Dahlia. The pecking order had been established early on, and she never challenged it—until today. Now she realized that she was not the weak one. Just because she couldn’t murder someone in cold blood or rule over an empire of men didn’t make her weak.
Liberty had compassion, she possessed loyalty, and she had forgiveness in her heart. Liberty was twice the woman Dahlia would ever be, and she was proud of herself for ending that chapter in her life. Finally, the feud was over. She now had one last thing that she needed to handle before she could move forward.
She saw the white Cadillac pull up curbside as she exited the airport. The bite of the cold winter nipped at her skin through the thin fabric of the elegant dress. The temperature changed drastically from L.A. to Detroit, and she shivered as she walked through snow and ice to get to her ride. Rocko emerged from the driver’s side and met her halfway, taking off his coat to wrap it around her shoulders. He opened the door and tucked her safely inside the warmth of his car before joining her inside. He pulled away from the airport smoothly. They rode in silence for a while, neither of them knowing what to say. It had been so long since they had been alone together. Since they’d fled L.A., Po was always the buffer between them. They had played nice, remained neutral, distant friends since the three of them had reunited, but as Liberty sat beside him, she knew that she wanted more. The racing of her heart was indication enough.
“Why did you call me, Liberty? Po would have scooped you from the airport,” Rocko said.
Liberty fiddled with her fingers nervously. “I don’t want Po.”
Rocko scoffed and shook his head as he turned the steering wheel smoothly to the right to merge onto I-75. “You don’t know what you want, ma.”
“I want you, Rocko,” she replied, her eyes large and honest.
Rocko was silent as he processed her words. He had tried his hardest to ignore his feelings for Liberty. He didn’t want to be the snake nigga who got involved with his best friend’s girl. Since coming to Detroit, he had acted so distant from Liberty that he sometimes came across as cold. It was all business between them, but here she was laying her feelings out in front of him. She was putting it all on the line.
“You know that can’t happen, Liberty,” he replied.
“I know you love me, Rocko. No matter how hard you try to hide it, no matter how much you force yourself to call me sis or treat me indifferently. I can see it in your eyes. It emanates off of you. I feel it even if you don’t want me to,” she whispered.
Rocko knew that he couldn’t allow this to go further. He had to dead her feelings for him. No matter how much he wished that he would have met her first, he hadn’t, and for them to be together would be wrong. It went against everything that he stood for as a man. His heart was begging him to accept her love. Rocko, a motherless child who was deficient in affection, needed her. He craved her like she was an addiction, but his mind was telling him no. His strong will was making him remain loyal to a friend who had already showed that he didn’t deserve it. Rocko cleared his throat and opened his mouth to tell the biggest lie he had ever told.
“You’re misreading things. If I haven’t been clear, let me be now,” he said. “I . . . do . . . not . . . want . . . you . . . Liberty.” He was firm. His voice was cold and full of disgust, as if the possibility of him being attracted to her was preposterous.
Her mouth fell open in shock, and she blinked tears away. It literally felt as if her hear
t had been torn in two. Her face turned red, and she felt her skin flush with heat. Embarrassed, she sat back and folded her arms across her chest. “Understood. Please, just take me home,” she whispered as she looked out the window to avoid him seeing the tears that fell down her face.
Rocko heard the hurt in her voice, and he bit his inner cheek. He hated to be the one to cause her pain, Lord knew she had been through enough, but it wasn’t his place to soothe her, either. She’s Po’s girl, he thought.
Finally, he pulled up to her home. He didn’t even pull into her driveway. “Call Po the next time you need something, a’ight?”
Liberty didn’t even look at him before she got out of the car and walked into her home.
As soon as she disappeared from sight, Rocko hit his steering wheel in frustration. He couldn’t bring himself to pull away from her house. He had spoken the words to her, but when it came to reinforcing them with his actions, he was unable. He got out of the car and walked up to her door. With a heavy heart, he knocked.
She pulled open the door, her eyes filled with tears and her face wet with emotion.
“Come here, ma,” he whispered. He pulled her to him, and their lips met. She melted into his embrace as he grasped the hair behind her ear and kissed her passionately. “I love you. Shit ain’t right, but it’s real.”
“What about Po?” she asked.
“Yeah, Rocko, what about Po?”
Po’s voice came from behind them, and both Rocko and Liberty turned around. They were caught red-handed, and neither of them had wanted Po to find out in this way. It made it look like betrayal when in actuality it was fate. There was an attraction between them that could no longer be denied. Fire burned in Po’s eyes.
“Po, bro, I didn’t want you to find out like this,” Rocko started.
All Po saw was red. He swung, hitting Rocko across the jaw with a right hook.
“Po, stop!” Liberty screamed as the two men began to brawl.
In all of their years coming up together, they had never come to blows. It was always the beauty of a woman that divided men. Rocko sidestepped one of Po’s lefts and then hit him with a powerful jab. Both men fought full force, as if they had always been enemies.
“Rocko, no! Po!”
Liberty’s voice may as well have been a whisper, because it was no longer about her, it was about the win, about the pride of men. They soon tired, but neither of them would give up. Finally, Rocko tied Po up in a firm hold.
“Listen!” Rocko roared. “I’m going to let you go, but you gotta chill out, my nigga.” He pushed Po off of him and nursed his nose, which he was certain Po had broken.
Liberty stood in between them, shaken and confused as she looked at them both.
“Let her choose,” Po said as he sucked blood off of his busted lip and wiped sweat from his brow. His chest heaved as he caught his breath and glared at Rocko. “Who you rocking with, Liberty? Huh?”
Liberty could hear Po’s anger, and she was filled with guilt.
“Don’t think about us, ma,” Rocko said. He could see her turmoil. It was written all over her face. “This is about you.”
Liberty paused, and Rocko grew frustrated. Love don’t hesitate, he thought. He shook his head and walked past her, right out of the house.
Po walked over to Liberty and pulled her into an embrace. “I forgive you, ma. Let’s just start over. Fuck Rocko, fuck L.A., fuck the past.”
Liberty pulled away from him. “Fuck you,” she said. She headed for the door. Po grabbed her elbow, pulling her back to him. “You should have taken care of home when you had the chance. You fucked my family. You threw me away like trash. You can hate Rocko all you want, but he didn’t take your girl, Po, you gave me away.” She snatched her elbow away harshly. “Now, let go of my arm so I can go get my man.”
Po’s face fell in shock and disappointment as Liberty sprinted out the door.
“Rocko!” she shouted. “Rocko! Please, wait!” Rocko turned around, heated, eyes ablaze, but she didn’t care. She jumped into his arms and kissed his lips. His hands cupped her behind as she wrapped her legs around his body. “I want you,” she whispered.
Po came out onto the porch and shook his head in disgust as he made his way to his car. When he reached the couple, he stopped to look Rocko in his eyes. The men squared off as Liberty clung to Rocko’s shirt. The tension was thick, and Liberty didn’t know what to expect next.
“Take care of her heart,” Po said, his thoughts drifting to Scarlett.
“I plan to,” Rocko replied.
Po smirked and retreated to his car before driving away.
* * *
Peace. It was something that had been so elusive to Liberty her entire life, but on this day, as she sat underneath the golden sun, she felt released—released from the fear, from the stress, from the chains that had bound her ever since she was stolen from her village all those years ago. She could feel the kisses as the heat from the rays kissed her light skin. It would undoubtedly leave a darkened tan. Her bare toes curled, squeezing the freshly cut grass as she lay on her back. Her delicate fingers gripped the pen as she thought of the note that she wanted to write. The white pages of her journal were filled with love quotes from her favorite authors and poets. Whenever she heard one that reminded her of A’shai, she wrote it down and then visited his resting place to leave a love note on his grave. Her fingers moved, writing in fancy cursive as she spoke the words aloud.
“Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark . . .”
It was from one of Shakespeare’s sonnets. She tore the paper from her book and folded it in half. She kissed it and placed it, along with a bouquet of flowers, on A’shai’s grave.
“I miss you, Shai. I will never love anyone the way that I loved you. You can rest peacefully now. I’m safe, and I’m finally happy,” she said. This visit was much different from her previous ones. She had finally accomplished what A’shai had always tried to give her. Freedom. She knew that he would be pleased. She stood to her feet, scooped up her small blanket and sandals. “I’ll come here every year, A’shai, until the day we are reunited.” She leaned over and kissed the cold brick, then turned to leave. The roundness of her belly caused her to waddle through the grass. She smiled when she saw Rocko pull out right on time. He parked on the dirt road of the cemetery, then got out of the Mercedes S-class to open her door. They were doing well. Liberty had given Rocko the connect that Baron had introduced her to at the Gentlemen’s Ball a year ago. Rocko was slowly building an empire that spanned from Flint to Detroit. He was her provider, and as they got to know each other more every day, he was slowly becoming her very best friend. They hadn’t heard from Po since the day she had chosen between them, and it was fine by them. Every relationship had a reason and a season. They had both concluded that Po had served as a bridge to bring the two of them together. Without Po, they would have never met, and now that they had, they no longer needed him around. All they wanted was each other.
“You have a good visit, ma?” he asked as he kissed her cheek.
She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek, and the stubble from his five o’clock shadow tickled her palm. She kissed him gently, and he instinctively placed a hand on her growing belly. “You are a good man,” she whispered. She loved the fact that she didn’t have to hide her love for A’shai from him. He understood her past, and he accepted it. He was unlike Po in so many ways. Po wasn’t even half the man Rocko had turned out to be. He was her support. Rocko renewed her faith in love when she was sure that she would never find it again. Yes, she would always acknowledge A’shai as her first love, but she appreciated Rocko because he was her second great love, and he had been able to love her pain from previous relationships away. Liberty didn’t want to fight her feelings for him any longer. She deserved a love like his. She realized that it wasn’t her fault that she and Po hadn’t worked out. He had given up on her. By thi
nking that the grass was greener with Dahlia, he left room for another man to make her happy; that man just happened to be Rocko. She was glad that Rocko was finally choosing love over loyalty. He had picked her, throwing all of the G codes he had learned coming up to the wind. He was living by his own rules.
“I’m good to you, Lib; everybody else don’t see this side,” he said with a crooked smile, one that she had grown to adore.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” she said playfully. She entered the car and waited as he walked around and slid into the driver’s seat. He held one hand out for her, and she laced her fingers between his. He used his left hand to turn the wheel and steer the car out into traffic. She couldn’t believe how her life had turned around. With the love of one man, she had been renewed. Now here she was, eight months pregnant and completely smitten. She had never expected Rocko to be the one she would end up with, but God had a way of showing her that her plans were not always the same as His. With Po, she always felt guilty, as if she had been trying to replace A’shai, but with Rocko, she felt she was exactly where she was supposed to be. He felt familiar, and in a lot of ways, he reminded her of A’shai. They were built the same. They both possessed a rare characteristic: loyalty. Liberty was addicted to a rare breed, and she was lucky to have found two in the same lifetime.
The light kicks of life thundered in her stomach. She had gotten used to the movements of her child as it grew inside of her. She shifted slightly in her seat as she felt another kick, this time much stronger than the one before. “Hmm,” she moaned as she closed her eyes. There was a brief pain.
“Everything a’ight?” he asked.
Liberty sat upright in the car and gripped the side handle as another kick occurred. This time, the pain jolted her forward. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I’ve never felt this pain before, and there is so much pressure.”
“I’m not taking any chances. I’m heading to the hospital,” Rocko stated, turning the car around immediately.
Liberty rubbed her stomach gently and tried to calm her baby. “No, I don’t want to overexaggerate. I’m not due for another three weeks. This is probably just those Braxton Hicks I told you about. My body is supposed to go through this. No need to panic over a false alarm.”
