Games Women Play

by Zaire Crown

He opened up the small refrigerator where a bottle of Cristal Rosay was being chilled. He offered her a drink but Tuesday refused.

  As he was putting the bottle away Tuesday noticed his stylish leather gloves. She knew it was the same hand that held the pistol that killed Slim and had most likely killed Brianna and Baby Doll.

  “So I guess I owe you thanks for that little assist at the club?”

  “Of course we were keeping a close eye on that situation,” he said, brushing a piece of lint from his fine cashmere overcoat. “I stopped by earlier that day looking for Dani. At the time she wasn’t there but two of the co-conspirators were. My apologies for ruining the ambiance of your lovely establishment.”

  Behind his articulate speech and white-collar swag, the old man was a killer. This made Tuesday reflect back on what Agent Jackson said about them not leaving loose ends.

  “I didn’t tell them anything!” she blurted out nervously. “I don’t know shit and didn’t tell ’em shit.”

  He smiled at her. “He already knows. Our sources inside the DEA said that you were being less than cooperative.”

  Tuesday stared the old man directly in the eye. “So is this the part where I die?”

  He laughed. “Nobody’s going to kill you, Ms. Knight. In fact, we’ve taken steps to make sure no charges will be filed against you for that little incident that happened at your building nor the situation that transpired at the club.”

  Then a realization dawned on Tuesday that made her mouth sag open. “He knew who I was from the jump, didn’t he?”

  He now gave her a serious look. “Ms. Knight, there’s nobody or nothing my boss doesn’t see coming from a mile away. It’s this unique ability that has kept him ahead of the game.”

  “Then why did he go along with it?” she asked, confused. “If he had me smoked out, then why did he keep seeing me?”

  “Maybe it was just to play the game.” He gave her another smile. “Or maybe he saw something special in you.”

  “But why would he just let me take the money? How did he know I would do the right thing and get Danielle back?”

  He shook his head. “Do yourself a favor and don’t waste your time trying to figure out his thinking. Not only will you never be able to do it, the effort will most likely drive you crazy.”

  She said, “I’m sorry they took the money.”

  He waved it off. “Don’t worry about that. We’ve already reclaimed our property. The DEA was kind enough to return the five million dollars they illegally confiscated from us.”

  “But it was only three,” Tuesday said, puzzled. “Actually it was two and a half, because I spent a little.”

  “Well, our records indicate that it was five million.” He winked at her. “It was his idea to make them pay for inconveniencing you.”

  He inquired about how Tuesday was treated during her detainment and when she confessed they hadn’t fed her, he ordered the driver to the nearest fast food restaurant. They swung through a Wendy’s and got her a double with bacon and fries. Tuesday smashed it as soon as the driver passed her the bag.

  Then from the surface streets they ultimately found the freeway. The driver took them to the far lane and pushed the Maybach up to ninety-five. Tuesday sat back in the plush leather recliner silently admiring the luxurious interior and smooth ride.

  Now that she knew she wasn’t about to die, Tuesday felt relaxed enough to accept that drink. He passed her a champagne flute and filled it before pouring one for himself.

  “So what happens now? I just go back home to my normal life? My friends are dead and I’m done with the game. I don’t even want the club anymore.”

  “I’m afraid we can’t allow you to do that anyway.”

  She looked at him confused, and started to get a little nervous again.

  He smiled when he read the fear in her eye. “No, it’s not like that. I think it’s best if he explains this part to you himself.”

  He reached down for a thin laptop that was on the floor. He opened it, typed a couple keystrokes, then passed it to Tuesday.

  Marcus’s face was on the screen via Skype. She could tell by the background noise that he was on the private jet, the one he had lied and said was his father’s.

  “How you doing . . . Sebastian?”

  He gave her a half smile. “Actually I prefer Marcus . . . Tuesday.”

  She smiled back. “I guess we both just a couple of lying muthafuckas, huh?”

  “Artists use lies to tell the truth,” he said. “Besides our names and the characters we were playing, everything else was totally real between us. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Still smiling, Tuesday nodded. “I would. Do you hate me now for stickin’ you up?”

  “I know what it’s like to be trapped in a game you’re trying to get out of. Plus, I love you for what you did afterward.”

  “I promised you I would get her back and I meant that. So where are you going?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t say out loud, but a smart girl like you will probably figure it out.”

  Tuesday understood why he couldn’t tell her, but wasn’t sure what he meant about her figuring it out.

  “I’ll bet they said some pretty nasty things about me in that little room.”

  Tuesday nodded. “They did.”

  He looked at her, his dark eyes just as penetrating on screen as they were in real life. “Does that change how you feel about me?”

  “It scared me a little bit,” she confessed. “But it didn’t change anything.

  “We both have a past. It’s our past that shaped us into the people we are today. I love the man you are right now, so as a result, I must love everything that happened to make you this man. The good decisions, the bad decisions, and the lessons learned from those mistakes.”

  His facial expression revealed how impressed he was with her response. “Once again you prove that your beauty is only surpassed by your wisdom.”

  Tuesday beamed another smile. “And once again you remember that I run on compliments. Next time just make sure you sprinkle in something about my fly style and good sex.”

  He laughed but then was quiet for a moment, just staring at her. When he spoke again there was a much more serious tone to his voice. “Remember that little game we played at Chuck E. Cheese with the five questions? Now I gotta call in that favor you owe me.”

  Tuesday knew this was about to be important. She leaned forward in her seat and adopted the same tone. “You know I’ll do anything for you, babe.”

  “I knew for a while now that I would have to make this move and been preparing for it. I knew when they were going to be coming for me, almost down to the hour and minute.

  “I’ve always tried to give Danielle as close to a normal life as I could. Because of what I’ve taken from her, I felt I owed her that. Until I can get this situation fixed, I have to disappear for a while and I can’t take her with me.”

  Tuesday knew what he was hinting at. She also realized that he’d been planning this the whole time. “How long do you want me to keep her?”

  Marcus used no words but gave the answer with his eyes. He intended for this to be a permanent arrangement.

  He explained, “The problem is that she only knows you as Tabitha Green. So that’s who you have to be from this day on.”

  Marcus’s associate pulled out a manila folder and passed it to Tuesday. “Everything is in there. New driver’s license, Social Security card, birth certificate, voter’s registration card, medical and dental records. The IRS has tax records for Tabitha Green that go back fifteen years. She even has a Facebook page.”

  Tuesday switched on the interior light to inspect the documents. Percy, the person who usually did her fake ID’s, had nothing on their people.

  Marcus continued. “I don’t care what you used to do or how you used to do it. Your old life is done! Danielle is your number one priority now and I’m counting on you to do right by her.”

  Tuesday had never heard him boss up on he
r before but liked it. “I’ll give my life for her.”

  “I have to go now but my father will tell you everything else you need to know.”

  Before he signed off, Tuesday said, “Wait! When will I get to see you again?”

  He smiled. “Not soon enough, but before too long.”

  Tuesday kissed her fingers and touched the screen right where his lips were. He did the same and then he was off-line.

  She gave the computer back to the man Marcus called his father. She asked, “So where are we going from here?”

  “To the airport,” he explained. “Considering what she’s been through, he figured that Danielle could use a change of scenery. She and her new mother are about to move to California with her grandfather.”

  Tuesday couldn’t believe it. “You mean me and Dani are moving to your mansion in Beverly Hills?”

  “Well, yeah, but technically it’s not my mansion. My boss is an extremely wealthy man; he just preferred to live modestly.”

  “Goddamn, is anything what it seems with you people? Is Brandon King even your real name?”

  The old man just smiled. “It is now.”

  This whole thing had been dropped on her fast, but Tuesday was down for it all: raising Danielle, the move, and the new life. She only had to tend to a few pieces of unfinished business before she left.

  She put all her new documents back in the folder and cut off the light. “Two things,” Tuesday said, holding up her fingers. “First we need to swing by my condo and find my cat.”

  Brandon just smiled at her again. “We’ve already been by your apartment.” He nodded to the driver, who reached to grab something from the floor of the passenger seat. It was a small travel kennel, and when he passed it to Tuesday, she saw that Nicholas was sleeping inside. The fluffy white Persian woke up just long enough to glimpse his mistress, then went back out.

  He said, “Eventually you’re gonna learn that he thinks of everything.”

  She sat the kennel between her legs, then turned back to him. “Second, we gotta find a hardware store and I’ll need to borrow a little bit more of the cash.” She looked at his long cashmere overcoat and stroked his sleeve to admire the fabric. “I’ll need to borrow this too.”

  “My coat?” the old man asked, puzzled. “What are you up to?”

  “Nothing,” she said with a mischievous smile. “I just wanna say good-bye to an old friend.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  It was two in the morning when Dresden arrived at the motel on Telegraph. Tuesday had left an urgent message for him to meet her in their room. All she said was that she had something for him and this would be his only chance to get it before she left town.

  Dresden stepped into Room 304 and found a pile of cash waiting for him on the bed. There were seventeen of those 50K bundles totaling $850 thousand. Tuesday was sitting next to it with a smile.

  “Didn’t I tell you that the next time you saw me I was gone have enough money for you to retire on? Did I come through or did I come through?”

  Dresden wore the face of a kid on Christmas morning. He closed the door, then rushed over and scooped up two arms full of the cash bricks.

  “You beautiful black bitch!” he gasped, staring at it, mesmerized. “You did it! You really did it! I knew you would.”

  “You can finally start treating that pretty li’l wife of yours the way she deserves to be treated.”

  Tuesday gave him a garbage bag that he began to load up. It wasn’t until he filled it that Dresden even really noticed her.

  “What’s with that?” he said, looking skeptically at the long black overcoat she was wearing.

  “No disrespect to your wife but—” Tuesday opened her coat to show him that she was totally naked underneath. “I was thinking since we probably not gone ever see each other again. What’s up?”

  If Dresden was leery, it was only for a split second. The sight of those round hips, smooth thighs, and pretty shaved pussy instantly made his tiny dick swell with desire.

  “All this time you’re pretending like you didn’t want it!” He snorted. “You never had me fooled.”

  She teased, “Well, you know what they say: once you go white!”

  He took two steps toward Tuesday, but froze when he heard the hammer click and felt the cold steel of a barrel on the back of his head. It was then that he knew he’d fallen for the okie-doke.

  “You stupid bitch!” he roared at Tuesday. He instinctively reached for his holster, then thought better of it. Instead he put his hands in the air.

  “Don’t let this bitch get you killed!” Dresden said, speaking to the unseen gunman standing behind him. “She probably didn’t tell you this, but I’m a lieutenant with the Detroit PD and I’ve got some very powerful friends.”

  Brandon King stepped into view with the silenced pistol still aimed at his head. “I already know who you are, Lieutenant Kyle Dresden. And I’m willing to bet that all of your so-called powerful friends probably take orders from mine.”

  There was a knock at the door and Tuesday let the driver in. He was carrying a bag of tools and supplies they picked up at the hardware store.

  Tuesday ushered Dresden to the door of the bathroom so he could glimpse what was in the bathtub. He frowned when he saw Tank’s bloated, naked corpse. Tuesday had offered Face an extra hundred grand to store him on ice then have him delivered here. Face had honored his agreement just hours before trying to rob and kill her.

  Dresden looked confused. “Is that Humphries from the last one?”

  She said, “No, that’s the lover you set up to be robbed and killed in a jealous fit.”

  Dresden let out a dry laugh. “Is that what this is supposed to be? Do you really think you can frame me for murder? Nobody’s gonna believe this shit!”

  “I think they will.” Tuesday pulled out the recorder she used on their last lick. Dresden just smirked when she pressed play and he heard his own gravelly voice ordering Tank to open his safe and give up the money.

  “That doesn’t prove anything. I’m a highly decorated officer with an impeccable service record. Do you really think they’ll believe a black whore thief like you over me?”

  “It’s not about them believing me; they will believe the evidence.” Tuesday made him look closer until he noticed the condom hanging out of Tank’s ass. “That’s one of yours, baby, and your DNA’s still all in it. That’s a little souvenir I kept from the last time we was here.”

  “It’s still not gonna work,” he said, but with less conviction. “I’ll tell them it’s a set-up. I’ll say you’re a prostitute I used it with and you put it there. At worst I only come out looking like a cheating husband. You’ll never get me pinned on a murder rap or linked to some faggot shit.”

  “It will work,” Tuesday said confidently. “Especially since nobody’s gonna ever get your side of the story.”

  Dresden was forced back into the anterior room. They stripped his clothes then tied him up on the bed facedown with his arms and legs tethered to the posts.

  He looked up at Tuesday but it was fear and not the usual contempt in his pale blue eyes. “Tuesday, don’t kill me. I know I’ve treated you like shit; I know I’ve been a bastard, but I don’t deserve to die.”

  Tuesday crossed her arms. “You’re right, you don’t deserve to die. For a long time I did want to kill you, but listening to a friend of mine today made me realize that there are things much worse than dying.”

  Dresden’s eyes went wide when he saw the driver pull a sledgehammer from the bag along with an assortment of other tools.

  Tuesday covered his mouth with duct tape then whispered into his ear, “This is one room you’re definitely not walking out of.”

  The thump from the sledgehammer making contact with Dresden’s back could be heard over his muffled screams. The sound of his spine cracking made Tuesday shudder but she still planned on taking his eyes out personally.

  Epilogue

  During the next year Tuesda
y quickly adapted to her new surroundings and new role as Tabitha Green.

  At first she was intimidated by the big white house with its Greek statues, spacious rooms, high ceilings, and marble floors. For the first few months Tuesday didn’t feel like she belonged in Beverly Hills—she felt like a commoner trying to pass for royalty. The house was fully staffed but Tuesday was uncomfortable with asking the butlers and maids for anything. Even while out shopping on Rodeo Drive, she didn’t walk with the same swag that all the other rich bitches had. She was new to the money life and Tuesday feared that everybody she passed could smell it on her like a stench.

  However, time and actually having money slowly cured those insecurities. Tuesday was given a fake job as a consultant for Abel Inc., so on top of receiving a ridiculous salary for doing absolutely nothing, she also drew a huge monthly allowance from a multimillion-dollar trust account Marcus set up for her and Danielle. Between the two she wanted for nothing. Her walk-in closets were overflowing with brand names and her bag and shoe game was insane. She eventually bought herself another white sedan but upgraded from the Caddy to an S-class Benz.

  Adapting to wealth was not as challenging as adapting to motherhood. Danielle was a sweet, bright, and loving child but it took a while for her to adjust to Tuesday as her parent. She was a good kid but still a kid, and there were times when Tuesday was forced to punish her when she got out of line. These times were seldom and Dani’s violations were never extreme, just her testing the limits of their new relationship.

  Still, their bond was strong and grew stronger with each passing day. Even though the driver offered to do it, Tuesday made sure to drop her off and pick her up every day from her new school and continued the tradition of stopping for ice cream afterward. The Gulfstream was always on standby so the girls were well traveled; they vacationed together in places like Spain, Paris, Brazil, and of course Disney World, where Danielle finally got to meet Princess Jasmine. The two of them were inseparable because if Danielle wasn’t in school, she was usually with Tuesday.

  It was in the tenth month during a trip to the L.A. zoo that Danielle and Tuesday had a major breakthrough in their relationship. Danielle was excited to see the monkeys, so without thinking she grabbed Tuesday’s hand and pointed, saying, “Mommy, look!” Up until that day she’d only called her “Tabitha.” Tuesday blamed it on an allergy when Danielle asked why her eyes had started to tear up.