by Shan
The FBI was involved and doing what they could to find her. An Amber Alert had been issued and Ashley's face was everywhere, but everything seemed to be for nothing. He needed some kind of idea, some kind of clue as to what was going on. All he knew was that he'd taken something from someone and they were now having a great time taking from him. It was a torturous game that they were playing. Had they told him who they were or just what he had taken, he would gladly replace it. Nothing was greater than the life of Ashley. Not one thing.
Yamin placed the key into the lock and twisted it until it clicked. He turned the knob and pushed the door open. The cool air that hit him caused his body to tremble as he looked around in sadness. He'd spent plenty of time at this place and had a great deal of memories to last him a lifetime. As he stepped further into the townhouse, he could swear that he heard Cortez’s laugh. He could surely smell him.
He walked over to the fireplace and picked up a picture that he and his brothers had taken the last time they were all together at Cortez’s place. He remembered that night the picture had been taken clearly.
“What you mean you missing a hundred stacks? Where the hell is it?” Aasir asked with raised brows. He took a tug of the Kush and blew out a thick cloud of smoke. He was sitting in Cortez’s recliner with his legs propped on the table, enjoying the night. He felt good since The Versace League had just completed another successful job that garnered them over fifteen million dollars for a few day’s worth of work. They had been hired to steal a safety deposit box from inside of a federal bank. None of them knew what the safety deposit box held, but knew that it had to be something valuable. It took ten of the players to pull it off leaving them each with one and a half million dollars.
Aasir wasn’t computer savvy like Cortez, nor was he as street savvy and sophisticated as Yamin. He was just him. Everyone had a role, or had something they were good at, but Aasir just got in wherever he fit in. So he was happy to have just made a million and a half to just watch Yamin and Knox’s back as they pulled the heist off. It was easy money.
“Shit it's gone. First I noticed a few stacks here and there were missing and then a couple of months ago, I noticed that it increased dramatically. When I added it all up it came up to like a hundred and twenty-two thousand,” Cortez said, and looked at Yamin. He waited for Yamin to say something or even make a facial expression to let him know what he was thinking, but nothing. “I don’t know what to do. I asked her about it and she said she needed it to give to her grandma to pay for her chemo treatments and didn’t think I would just give it to her. So, I handed her another hundred thousand and I thought she would stop and just come to me, but I checked last night and a few extra thousand was gone.”
“She asks you for everything else! Shoes, cars, clothes-and all the rest of that bullshit but she can’t ask you for money when it fuckin’ matters,” Yamin yelled. He’d tried his hardest not to show any emotion for the situation, but he was sick of Patrice using Cortez. She was a money hungry peasant that claimed she came from money that only she has seen.
Yamin was sick of seeing Cortez being used when he had the potential to do so much better. He had a baby mama that had been there for him since the two of them were in grade school and she was a true rider. She didn’t care if Cortez lived in a shack and would happily live there with him without one complaint.
“Damn, here you go. She was just scared to ask me for that amount of money at once,” Cortez asked. He grabbed his bottle of beer from the table and took a swig. He knew that Yamin couldn’t stand Patrice and he regretted that he ever brought the subject up.
“So, what the fuck you bring it up for and ask us what you should do if you’re just gonna take up for her?” Yamin asked.
Cortez sighed.
Patrice was his soul mate and the two of them would eventually marry and have kids. He had never met anyone of her stature. She had her own and could bring just as much to the table as he could. He didn’t understand why Yamin insisted that Patrice was a lying gold digger. When he’d met her she was driving a red Mercedes Benz, and lived in a hundred thousand dollar condominium downtown. Yamin’s judgment of her was off and he wished that he would show Patrice the same respect that he’d shown Jessica.
“I think Patrice is cool, but I don’t know bruh, sometimes I feel like she is after you for your money,” Aasir inserted.
“Patrice doesn’t even know I have money bruh. Her condo cost more than this shit I’m living in. She thinks I work as a computer specialist by day and sell dope by night,” Cortez argued.
“She might think that you got a nine to five and hustle, but she knows you have money Cort. I don’t know how many times I gotta tell you to keep your shit more private. You got bank account statements sitting on the table. I saw a file with a client’s name on it sitting on your fucking bed when I went to take a piss. What are you doing?” Yamin asked disgustedly.
“Patrice was claiming I hadn’t been at home lately so after we finished that bank job, I decided to do some research from the house. It’s nothing. She didn’t look at it,” Cortez explained.
“Man you better hope not,” Aasir passed the blunt to Cortez and shook his head at his little brother.
“Why would you leave the wifey type to be with that mutt bucket?” Yamin asked, not hiding his displeasure one bit.
“Come on man, you know I hate when you call her that. You act like she can help the fact that she’s mixed,” Cortez exhaled.
“You know I have no problem with her being mixed. I’ve dated plenty myself. I just think she a lying, gold digging-“ Yamin sucked his teeth. “See, I don’t want to disrespect you by calling her out her name, so that’s why I call her a mutt bucket.”
“And y’all know what it is with me and Donica. We just grew apart,” Cortez said.
“But you still fucking her though,” Aasir asserted.
“Man, y’all be easy on me. I know I be fuckin’ up sometimes,” Cortez laughed. “I’m a leave Donica alone eventually. Me and Trice gonna be getting married a few months after you big bruh.” He took a puff of the weed, held the smoke in for a few seconds, and then blew it out. He sighed heavily and stared down at the floor wondering about his relationship with Patrice. Just as he told himself that Patrice loved him for him and that his brothers were full of shit, she walked in with at least four shopping bags in each hand all from high end department stores.
It pissed him off that she spent the day shopping but at least he could see where the few thousand dollars had gone. He was hardly hurting behind money and he was sure Patrice didn’t know about his true finances. As much as he wanted to ball all out over the city and stunt on niggas and bitches with Patrice, Yamin wouldn’t allow it. He didn’t want any unnecessary attention being brought to The League and insisted that they kept it calm until they were out of the game. The bank account that Patrice knew about never went over a quarter million dollars so it was impossible that she was just with him for his money. He knew of plenty niggas that kept that kind of cash lying around like it was nothing, so why was Patrice there with him and not with one of them?
“Hey y’all! Why y’all looking at me like that?” Patrice asked as she peered through her Dolce and Gabbana shades.
“What’s up Trice? You bring me something back?” Aasir asked with a smirk.
“Hell no! Baby, look….” Patrice placed her bags on the floor and reached into the bag that came from Best Buy. She pulled out a digital camera and a huge smile crossed her face. “….I did buy you a new camera. I already took it out the box to check it out. I didn’t want to get the wrong one.”
“You mean he brought him a new camera,” Yamin said.
“Oh shut up, Ya! Let me take y’all a picture,” Patrice smiled. She pulled her shades off and held the camera to her face. “Come on, stop acting like you’re too tough to smile Cort.”
Since the beginning of his relations
hip with Patrice, Yamin never once gave him his approval and that bothered him. Yamin's okay meant everything to him just as much as his father's approval did before he died. Most of the time he would allow it to roll off his back thinking Yamin was being mean because he didn’t approve of him leaving his family, but now he truly wondered if Yamin’s suspicions were right. Looking at the bags Patrice brought in now had him considering his brother's allegations.
Normally Cortez would use his computer skills and connections to research any woman he dated before he ran into Patrice, but it always ruined his relationship when the woman found out what he'd done. When he’d met Patrice, he decided that he would do the one thing his father and older brothers had taught him not to do-trust a woman.
Cortez leaned back on the sofa and looked Patrice over. She was definitely a bombshell and it blew Cortez’s mind each time he looked at her. She was mixed with Puerto Rican and black and had and amazing shape. Her exotic features were breath taking from her soft brown skin to her hazel eyes. She had long black curly hair that she kept in a bun most of the time and she was exceptionally thick in all the right places. Cortez loved his women in all shapes and sizes, but he had to admit that Patrice's looks were the only reason he'd even approached her. He was looking for a quick fuck, but ended up falling in love. He only hoped that it was as real for her as it was for him.
"Baby, smile!" Patrice hissed. She had taken several pictures, but Cortez had been too deep in his feelings to smile. She walked over to him and sat on his lap. She could see that something was bothering him. "What's wrong boo?"
"I'll holla at you later baby bruh. Get at me in the morning," Yamin said as he stood to his feet. He yawned and stretched his arms out before walking toward the door.
"Yea, I think I'm a be out too," Aasir dapped Cortez up and followed behind Yamin.
That had been 3 months ago. Yamin placed the picture frame back onto the fire place and let out a wearied breath. He could feel the tension in his shoulders and reached in his pocket for a lighter. He removed the blunt he had resting on his ear and quickly fired it up. He intentionally hadn't come to Cortez's home before because he knew it would cause him further pain, but he promised Donica that he would come to retrieve Cortez's financial information. Whether Cortez had been with Donica or not, he knew his brother would never leave her hanging.
He took the stairs two at a time, and took the first right that led him to Cortez's office. Yamin smiled at the setup. Cortez was a true computer geek and he was glad that he'd forced him to go to college. Cortez obtained his bachelors in computer science this past fall and Yamin had been like a proud parent. He didn't have the time to go to school and Aasir hated school, but he didn't give Aucelie or Cortez a choice in the matter. It wasn't that they needed the education, but to Yamin it would make them that much better than they already were.
He hoped for his siblings to leave The Versace League alone and live normal lives. They had the potential to be anything they wanted and seeing Cortez's degree on the wall proved that. It proved that they had risen above the hood they were from and that the criminal life was just a choice. Unfortunately for Cortez that choice had led to his death.
A tear slid down Yamin's face as he walked around the desk and sat in the huge chair. He melted comfortably into the cushion and was hit right in the face with a picture of Ashley. His heart skipped a beat and his chest felt like it would cave. She was sitting on a swing and was wearing one of the most beautiful smiles Yamin had ever seen. He hadn’t spent very much time with her before the incident happened, but he promised himself that once he got her back, that she would be his number one priority.
Yamin placed the tip of the blunt between his lips and began to dig through Cortez's file cabinet. There were mainly old papers from when Cortez was in school and a few personal items, but not what Yamin was looking for. Donica informed him that Cortez kept a private account that he used specifically for her and Ashley, she didn’t know how much was in it, but that it was what he used to pay her bills and to save money for the two of them.
He also wanted to get a copy of Cortez’s will. The last thing he wanted was Patrice to find it before he did, if she hadn’t already. In due time, he would be contacting their lawyer to ensure Cortez’s funds were appropriately handled in the way he would have wanted.
After not finding the paperwork Yamin closed the file cabinet and wiggled his hand over the computer’s mouse. He waited for the three computer screens to awaken from its sleep and was stopped by a lock screen requesting a password. He sat back in the seat and took a puff of the blunt and then blew out a cloud of smoke. Yamin was stumped.
He had no idea what Cortez’s password was and wasn’t even going to waste time trying to figure it out. He pulled out his cell phone to call someone that he knew would be able to help him. Cortez was a computer scientist and always feared that someone would hack him just like he hacked others. He was sure that his password was not some shit that an average person would’ve chosen.
“Aye, I need a favor,” Yamin said into the receiver of his phone.
“Anything,” Katrina gleefully answered.
“Find me somebody that can break into Cortez’s computer and bring him over here to his place.”
“Alright, give me a few hours.”
“Trina, I don’t have a few hours. I need to get back to looking for Ashley. I’ll see you within the hour,” Yamin hung up. He stood up and walked out of the office. He started to go outside with Manny, when he decided to go into Cortez’s bedroom instead. The fact that whoever had killed Cortez and kidnapped Ashley knew so much personal information about them, he couldn’t help but wonder if this extended passed something that he’d done to someone. He had to consider all possibilities.
He pushed the door opened to Cortez’s room and looked around. The bed was neatly made and only a pair of basketball shorts and tennis shoes sat on the floor. He strolled over to the walk in closet and stepped inside. There were hundreds of tennis shoes lined against the wall and even shoeboxes sitting on a shelf that was stacked to the ceiling. All of Cortez’s clothing was neatly hung on one side and oddly the other side of the closet was completely empty. Patrice and Cortez did not live together, but she kept clothing here just as he did at her place downtown.
“When the fuck did she take her shit out of here?” Yamin asked as he exited the closet. He walked over to a tall dresser that sat against the wall and pulled the first drawer open-it was empty. He did the same for the second drawer and it was also empty. Yamin stood still and looked around the room once more. Cortez hadn’t mentioned anything about he and Patrice having problems and he wondered if all this had happened before or after Cortez’s death.
Yamin began to type a text message to his brother Aasir: Has Patrice mentioned to you that her and the youngn was having problems? As he waited for Aasir to respond, he walked out of the bedroom and went downstairs to join Manny who was posted up outside.
“Hey, did my youngn’ ever mention to you that he was having problems with his old lady?” Yamin asked Manny the same thing.
“Nah, he never said nothing about that bird,” Manny said while puffing on a cigarette.
“Has she asked you to bring her by here, or has she mentioned that she’s been by here lately?”
“Nah, I haven’t seen her since the funeral and she didn’t say nothing bout it before then. Let me ask my bro if he heard anything like that,” Manny said and pulled his cell phone from his pocket.
Yamin paced back and forth as he waited for Aasir to hit him back and for Katrina to show up.
***
“Okay, this should work right here,” the computer tech said as he tapped the keys. Katrina showed up over an hour ago with some guy she pulled out of the West End of Dallas and he had been working for the last hour trying to get into Cortez’s computer but to no avail. Yamin almost wanted to give up, but wondered wh
at he would find if he gained entry.
“Has the FBI or the police not been by here? I’m surprised to see that Cortez’s place looks this damn good,” Yamin wondered, but aloud.
“No, this isn’t the address that Cortez has listed on his driver’s license and I don’t believe that the police knew about it. The FBI definitely don’t have record of it.-I mean I only know about it because of course I’ve been here plenty of times before. He only has Donica’s address listed everywhere,” Katrina explained.
“Mmgh,” Yamin nodded.
“So, it was nice meeting your wife the other night,” Katrina said.
This was the first time her and Yamin were able to speak since a few nights ago when she met him at Red Lobster. She’d gotten the ultimate surprise when she showed up and saw that he was cuddled up having dinner with his wife. The first thought that came to mind was walking out and getting up with him later, but she wanted to see what made Jessica so special. What was it about her that made Yamin completely stop fucking with her without so much as an explanation?
“Was it really, Katrina?” Yamin asked as he placed his hand above his head.
“Yea, she is really, really pretty. She seems very bourgeois though. Doesn’t seem like your type, like you only married her cause it was easy or something. I know that’s why I hadn’t met her before then.”
“She’s very much my type Katrina. She’s smart, sexy, independent, and she has a mind of her own. She doesn’t need me to think for her unlike others I know,” Yamin said. He was beginning to become very frustrated with everyone around him at that moment. His plans were to quickly grab the paperwork he needed and leave. Now he was waiting on Cortez’s computer to be hacked and wondering about Patrice. What pissed him off even more was that he’d sent Aasir several text messages and he had yet to respond.
“Wow, I can’t believe you feel as though you have to think for me. How can you say that Yamin?” Katrina asked. She felt herself about to cry and did everything in her power to hold the tears in. She’d done so much crying behind Yamin that she couldn’t believe she had any tears left for him. He’d hurt her deep when he ended their relationship. She couldn’t understand how he could just move on from what they shared as if it meant nothing to him when it clearly meant the world to her. She loved Yamin and had never experienced the kind of feelings for anyone that she experienced with him. He was so gangsta but yet so smart and sexy at the same time.
