Crooked G's (26 page)

“I do too,” Eric said as he handed her more tissue, while unable to hold back his tears any longer.

“I really wish I could talk to her one last time. There's so much that I have to say. We left each other on such bad terms and I could've done more to stop her.” Latrice cried even harder as Eric turned her around to comfort her with his embrace.

“I know how you feel,” Eric said softly in her ear. “I wish I could change the result of my last meeting with her, too. There was so much I could have done,” he said, shaking his head wishing he could have been better to her. “I should have helped her.” He began to whimper.

Eric's frustration with himself was starting to get the best of him. He cried even more thinking about all the damaging actions he'd put Shakita through. He felt terrible about the foul deeds he allowed Shakita to do at the spa, but at the time, he had justification for all his actions. Shakita had inadvertently broken his heart shortly after they'd met, and he had never been able to get over his emptiness. There was something about Shakita that caused an unexplainable effect, which drove him to the critical point in his life where he had been unable to erase. Eric felt as if he'd placed his heart in her coffin right along with her. He then realized that was the only way he would be able to move on. He had to give her his old heart and get a new one. They both slowly walked out of the cemetery not knowing how they would be able to move on without Shakita.

•  •  •

“I'll only be a minute,”
Latrice said as she got out of Eric's car so she could go into Cap Cap's store. She walked through the door and saw Cap Cap behind the counter watching TV as usual. Latrice stepped to the counter and Cap Cap continued to watch his movie.

“Here's the money I owe you,” Latrice said as she laid a stack of money on the countertop.

“I'm sorry to hear about your friend,” he said sadly, finally giving her eye contact.

“Thank you, Cap. I appreciate it.”

“You know. It don't matter how much you plan shit out. Sometimes it doesn't always go our way. I'm glad it wasn't both of y'all. But let me ask you this, young girl.” Cap Cap stared into her eyes, hoping to get the truth as Latrice listened. “All that money y'all got, was it worth it?”

Latrice paused before she spoke. “I don't know yet.”

Cap Cap didn't know how to respond, so he didn't say anything. Latrice felt like she had said enough and needed to go. “I gave you a little extra on top of what I owed you. I'll see you around, Cap.”

“You take care of yourself.”

“I'll try,” Latrice said, looking back at him before she hit the door. She hoped she never had to go into his store again, and if she did, it would only be for some candy.

After leaving Cap Cap's store, Latrice felt for some odd reason she should go see Fantasy. She hadn't thought of her since the last time she'd been to her club and didn't know why she had come across her mind all of a sudden. Latrice had Eric turn onto K Street, and when she got down in front of the Fantasy Lounge, she was totally stunned.

Latrice got out of the car and walked over to the Fantasy Lounge
and saw a sign on the door that read “Bank Foreclosure.” She didn't understand how Fantasy had allowed the bank to take away her club when she was making so much money on concerts every week. She thought there had to be a good explanation as to why Fantasy had let herself get in that situation.

“I guess you're going to have to find somewhere else to party because that shit hole is no mo'.”

Latrice looked to her left and saw a skinny man holding a beer can in one hand and a cigarette in the other, while wobbling trying to maintain his balance.

“Did the club move? Do you know who Fantasy is?” Latrice asked without thinking about who she was asking.

“Yeah. I should know her. That's my sister.”

“What happened? How come the club's not open anymore?”

“ 'Cause us crackheads can't keep shit open,” the man said as he took a sip from his beer. “Do you know where she is now?”

“Yeah, I know where she at. She's getting us some shit. She was supposed to been back,” the man said, checking his surroundings for her.

Latrice still couldn't believe the man knew what he was talking about and was about to leave when she saw a shabby-looking Fantasy coming around the corner.

“Did you get the shit?” the man asked Fantasy.

“Yeah, I got it. Just calm down,” Fantasy answered, not even noticing that Latrice was standing there.

“Fantasy.” Latrice called out her name so she could get her attention.

“Hey. How you doing? Long time, no see.”

“Yeah. What happened to your club?”

“Awe, it ain't nothing,” Fantasy said as she brushed it off her
shoulders. “I owed the bank a lil' money. It'll be going up for auction next month. I'mma try to get it back then.”

“Try to get it back, my ass,” the man said, interrupting her. “You done smoked all your damn money up with me. That shit's gonna go to someone else. Now come on here, so we can get high,” he said, nudging her.

“All right, girl. I got to go. But don't believe what my stupid-ass brotha says. I'm gonna be back on top. You wait n' see. Ol' Fantasy gonna be back,” she said convincingly as her brother pulled her away.

Latrice couldn't believe that Fantasy had been a crackhead all along, but when she thought back to all her strange behavior, everything started to make sense. Latrice figured that Fantasy was never going to be able to get the club back, and thought that it was so unfortunate for someone to lose everything they had over crack. She never understood what was so important about the drug that caused people to lose their damn minds. Latrice watched as two lost souls wandered down the street not knowing if it would be their last time getting high. Latrice realized that drugs were Fantasy's addiction and gambling was Shakita's, and she eerily wondered what she was addicted to.

Later on that evening, Latrice didn't want to be bothered with anybody, so she had Eric drop her off at her apartment where she could be alone. She was tired and wanted to relax, so she decided to pour some wine and lay back on the couch. With the television off, it made her surroundings extremely quiet and she was about to drift off to sleep when her house phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and saw that it was a county jail number. She was convinced it could only be one person: Bay.

“Hello,” she answered, waiting to accept the call.

“Hello,” Bay said after the automated system went off.

“Yes, Bay. I'm here,” Latrice said despairingly.

Once he heard her voice, he busted out in laughter. “Yo! I saw the news, young! Your girl went out like a mothafucking gangsta!”

“Bay, could you please not talk about her like that. Her funeral was today. Please have some fucking respect for her.”

“Damn. You a sensitive-ass bitch, ain't you? I was actually glorifying her ass. You need to lighten the fuck up or something. What's wrong with you? You need some dick?”

Latrice rolled her eyes. “No I'm good. Is that the only thing you think about is pussy?”

“Hell yeah. What the fuck you think? I've been holding my dick for three months in this bitch. Besides my money, what else is there to think about?” Latrice didn't respond. “I know you're going to give me that pussy soon as I get out, right?”

“I don't know. I haven't thought about it yet.”

“What the fuck you mean, you haven't thought about it yet? You better get that motor running under that bald-ass head of yours and stop playing with me.”

“You know you really need to learn how to talk to women.”

“Well, when you find one, let me know. Then I'll try.”

“You are such a fucking asshole. I'm about to hang up. Do you have anything else you have to say?”

“Girl, if you fucking hang up on me, I'll wreck ya lil' ass when I get out. Don't forget who the fuck I am, girl.” Latrice realized that she had stepped over the line and decided to watch her tongue. “I'm ready to get off the phone with your lil' dumb ass anyway. But I'm going to need you to be up here early as hell on Friday, so you can pick me up. Can you do that?”

“Yeah. I'll be there,” Latrice said, sounding defeated.

“All right. I'm 'bout to be out. Make sure you keep that pussy tight for me. You know I'll be able to tell if you been fucking anybody.”

“I hear you, Bay.”

Bay hung up first and Latrice held the phone to her ear as tears streamed down her face.

She hated the way Bay talked to her and wanted the grasp he had on her to be ultimately lifted. She so badly wanted to leave him alone, but there was still unfinished business that had to be handled. There was no way Bay would get out and let her live the type of life she wanted. He had to have complete control over her. Latrice slammed the phone on the floor and then balled herself up on the couch and cried dramatically. Latrice decided she didn't want to be involved with Bay anymore, but since she wanted into the music industry, she had to hold out a little bit longer.

Latrice tossed and turned all night on her couch in a cold sweat. She had nightmares about the days when Bay used to beat on her severely. She replayed in her mind the day that Bay punched her in her mouth for turning up the volume on the stereo in her car while he was on the phone. The strike to her mouth left a small gash on her lip that didn't go away for weeks. She then pictured the night Bay beat her down for not wanting to have sex with him while he was drunk. The battering caused her eye to close up and left her with several engorged ribs. Latrice told Shakita at the time she had been in a car accident. She continued to relive several more incidents when Bay would choke her while she slept and she would wake up fighting for her life.

Latrice jumped up on her couch as she held her throat. She heavily gasped for air as the thought of Bay choking her felt so real. Her heart raced as if she had finished running a marathon. She
was extremely shaken as tears penetrated her eyes. She tried not to have those same bad dreams about Bay, but the closer it got to his release date, the more frequently they occurred. She hated the constant battle of having to deal with a man that was so physically abusive to her, but at the same time trusted her with everything. Bay was getting out of jail in one more day, and she hoped that they both would be able to be on better terms where she wouldn't have to fear him.

“I got one more wake-up and I'm out of this bitch!” Bay shouted, trying to taunt the passing officer.

“Don't be so fucking happy, punk. You do so much as hug a bitch too tight, and your ass will be right back up here for good. You fucking woman beater,” the officer threatened before walking away from Bay's cell.

“You fucking cocksucker,” Bay said under his breath.

Any other time he would have put up an argument with anyone who called him a woman beater. He had one more day of lockup and decided to give the officer a pass without giving him a beat down. Bay lay back on his cot and started thinking about Latrice. It'd been three long months since the last time they'd had sex, and he couldn't wait to get inside her chocolate thighs. He hadn't jerked himself off to any magazines lately, so he really couldn't wait to bust a big load on Latrice's plump ass. Bay's thoughts of fucking Latrice were suddenly cut short when his celly on the bottom bunk started rapping out loud.

“You ain't got no flows, nigga, so shut the fuck up with all that bullshit,” Bay said jokingly.

“All, nigga, quit playing. You know I'm the best you ever heard,” Love Boat Brad proudly stated. Love Boat Brad was a tall, overweight dark-skinned cat with a thick beard. He called himself
Love Boat since he was a big PCP dealer in Southeast D.C. and Bradley was his real first name.

“Yeah, you like the best I heard. I got plans for you when you get out.”

Love Boat Brad stood up beside Bay's bunk. “So you really trying to get this music thing cracking, huh?”

“Yeah, man. I'm going to be big out here and you are, too. I know you got another year up in this bitch, but we gonna make sure you hella known before you even get out. You're gonna be a guaranteed platinum artist before your record is even pressed. Believe that.”

Love Boat Brad was feeling everything that Bay was spitting to him and couldn't wait to tell the world what was on his mind. By the time Love Boat Brad finished his bid, he planned on having at least fifty songs already done to give the streets. His thoughts of success were quickly interrupted when the sounds from an officer's baton rattled the bars to his cell.

Love Boat Brad looked out his cell, then over at Bay. “Yo, Bay. It's ya boy.”

Bay lifted up his head and saw that it was Officer Stevens. He was expecting his visit and got up to go holler at him.

“What up? You do that thing for me?” Bay whispered to the officer.

Officer Stevens looked around to see if any other officer was near before he started to speak. “Yeah, I did it. I put it right where I told you I would,” he said in a murmured tone.

“Good. So what are you gonna do about the diversion?”

“I got Pam and Glow to take care of that.”

“Why you get them two faggots? I don't want them up in my shit.”

“It's going to be cool, man. They don't want anything from you.
They want to have a place to fuck each other without being bothered. I can take care of that for them.”

“How did you talk them into gettin' involved?”

“They only want to see some drama. You know how it is.”

“All right, man. Those little gay hoes better not fuck this up.”

“It's already fucked up. They're trying to make sure your ass doesn't get caught. Nigga, be thankful.”