On the Run with Love (11 page)

Four days later, Freddie drove the forty-five minutes from Goldsboro to Raleigh. It took him a few wrong turns before he found the high-rise Radisson Hotel downtown. It fit Gina's style to a T; it was high class, trendy, and urban. The glass elevator floated up smoothly with a view of the large sparkling water fountain down on the lobby floor. Gina's suite was located on the top floor.

Freddie was dipped in a brown, beige, and white linen outfit and a pair of brown and beige mid Gucci loafers. He had to admit to himself that he was nervous. With Gina, he never knew what to expect. She knew he was in a bind. And although he knew in his heart that she would look out, he knew she'd make him sweat it out, one way or the other.

Freddie got off the elevator, walked the hallway to her room, took a deep breath, then knocked on the door. He didn't have long to wait before Gina opened the door.

“Hello, Freddie,” she said evenly, showing little emotion.

Freddie looked her up and down admiringly. Her dress was an auburn brown Versace with spaghetti straps. It had diamond-shaped cuts in the fabric on both sides that exposed the smooth mahogany tone of her firm hips. Her shoes, a pair of crystal-beaded mules with a modest heel, matched her dress. She didn't look thirty-seven; she looked twenty-seven. Her natural hair, straightened and silky, framed her face in an asymmetrical cut.

“How you, ma?” Freddie asked. “Damn, you look good.”

He tried to kiss her but she turned away and replied, “I know. Let me get my purse and I'll be ready to go.” She walked over to the nightstand and grabbed her small clutch bag.

“Ready? Where we goin'?” Freddie asked.

“Oh, you ain't know? You takin' me to dinner, a show, and whatever else I can think of. Just like you do Simone. You done spent enough of my money on her; now it's time for you to spend some of her money on me,” she said as she glided by him and out the door, leaving him no choice but to follow.

When they reached the parking lot, she frowned and asked, “What is that?” She was referring to Freddie's Accord.

“My car,” he replied, now feeling a little self-conscious about the late-model hooptie.

“Humph, we'll take mine,” she said and tossed him the keys. Two rows away sat a platinum CLK 320 gleaming under the street lamp with milk-colored interior. Freddie opened the door for Gina, closed it, then walked around to the driver's side. She unlocked his door and he got in. As soon as he started the car, the sounds of Colonel Abrams blared through the speakers. The club song took him back to Jersey as he put the car in drive and whipped out onto the main road like a typical “up north” driver.

Gina wasn't playin'; Freddie was definitely taking her out. They went to a modern dance exhibition at the Durham Arts Theatre, then to a small and very exclusive jazz club, tucked away on the outskirts of Cary. Then they hit the high-class restaurant Zakia Blue's in Raleigh. Freddie's little stash was shrinking by the hour.

They walked in and were escorted to a cozy corner table overlooking the Raleigh skyline. Once they were seated, it wasn't long before a waitress approached and cheerfully took their order.

“Yes, we'll have the shrimp cocktail appetizer, then the grilled salmon and salad, and crème brûlée for dessert, with coffee.”

“Very good. And to drink?”

Gina smiled at Freddie. “Freddie, what do you suggest?”

Freddie could see it in her pores: she was loving draining his pockets. “Water,” he replied sarcastically.

Gina giggled. “He's so silly. We'll have the best red wine you have in the house. It goes well with fish.”

“Very good,” the waitress repeated, then left them to themselves. Gina had spent the entire evening evading his attempts to talk business, but Freddie thought the time had come to cut to the chase.

“So what's goin' on up top?”

“Later,” Gina answered, quickly sipping her water. “Right now I wanna know if you enjoyed the show.” She smiled at him over her glass.

“Them niggas dance like faggots,” he stated flatly.

Gina laughed. “I should've known you'd say that. I think it was sexy. You should learn how to dance like that.”

“Yeah, psss, picture that.”

“I am!”

The food arrived promptly and the waitress departed.

“Look, I know you're enjoying yourself, draggin' me all around town and drainin' a nigga's pockets, but you can at least tell me if the cop died, yo. That shit is driving me crazy. The other cat don't matter, but the cop . . .” Freddie dropped his sentence.

“No. He didn't die. Now can I enjoy my dinner?” Gina asked, cutting into her grilled salmon, taking a bite and trying to feed Freddie, too.

The look on her face made Freddie smile, then chuckle and accept the bite. “Ay, yo, word up, you somethin' else!”

“Naw, you just can't figure me out like you want to, that's all.” She smirked, tasting her salad.

“What's to figure out? I thought you said we knew each other for who we truly are.”

“No, I said I know you for who you truly are. I didn't say anything about you knowing me. Eat your salmon, Freddie.” Gina sipped her wine, then asked, “So, when's the wedding?”

Freddie shrugged his shoulders and continued to dress his salad.

“Can I come?” she smiled deviously. Freddie just looked at her like, “Stop playin',” but she continued. “You should have a summer wedding. I love summer weddings. Have you set a date yet?”

“Naw.”

“I know you're not having second thoughts, are you?”

Freddie wiped his mouth. “We'll probably just wait until after the baby is born.” He grinned.

He could've slapped her in the face and it wouldn't have hurt as much. Freddie knew Gina couldn't have kids. He knew it was a cold way of letting her know, but if she wanted to play games, he decided not to play fair.

Gina averted her gaze, unable to meet his eyes. “That's . . . that's nice. I'm happy for you.”

Now it was Freddie's turn to control the flow of conversation. He laughed in her face. “No, you ain't, so why is you lyin'? I can see it in your face. But it's all good. Just know you ain't the only one who can play games.”

“Games? You think I'm playin' games wit' you, Freddie? You think I drove five hundred miles to play a fuckin' game?” she hissed, struggling to keep her voice low.

“Oh, what you call all this dinner and dance?” He mocked her voice: “‘How'd you enjoy the show?' Smilin' and shit, knowing you breakin' a nigga pockets. That ain't no game?” Freddie asked, matching her intensity.

“Nigga, you owe me at least this. After all the bullshit you put me through? You can't even take me to a funky li'l show and a dinner? When have you ever taken me on a date, Freddie, huh? When? Where? But as soon as your black ass is in a bind, who do you call? And you gotta have a stank-ass attitude? That's why I'm actin' like this! 'Cause you actin' like that!”

Shorty was right. He had never taken her out. It was either a hotel rendezvous or one of her spots: sex, maybe takeout and a movie. But he thought she was cool with their arrangement.

“Dig, yo, I'm just sayin', I—”

She cut him off. “You said it, baby, and I hear you loud and clear.” She sipped her wine, wiped her mouth, and placed the napkin on her half-eaten plate, signaling that she was finished. “You wanna get down to business? Okay, let's do business.”

 

Back at the hotel, Gina settled into the plush leather table chair that sat near the foot of the bed where Freddie sat. She crossed her thick, beautiful legs, dangling her mule off her right foot.

“Okay. Dante has a ten thousand dollar contract on your head. It's really an open one, but Ak Kabir really the only cat on it. You know how Ak do, but nobody knows where you are, so you straight. And like I said, the cop didn't die and he's out of the hospital, so it's definitely hot, but not as hot as shit could be if he had died.”

Freddie let it all sink in. He knew who Ak Kabir was: a straight murderer, dead ass. Dante was bad enough, but Ak Kabir? Going back to Jersey for any reason was out. But he was relieved that the cop had lived. It was still attempted murder, but that was damn sure better than murder one.

“You think there's any way I can beat it?” Freddie inquired hopefully.

“Mannie? With a good lawyer, yeah. Don't nobody care about another dead nigga. But the cop? Even wit' a good lawyer you can't beat that. And even if you could, what about Dante and Ak? Either you come back ready to go all out, or stay yo' ass down here and hope them niggas catch cases or somethin'.”

“I need money for that,” Freddie announced, glad to finally get to the point.

She looked at him like, “And?”

“I got a spot in Goldsboro, matter of fact a few spots. But I need a connect. Wit' the right connect I could sew shit up,” Freddie explained, sounding a lot like Slug.

“A connect?” Gina smirked. “All the country pussy down here and you gonna risk gettin' trapped in some federal shit selling drugs? Fuckin' wit' cats you don't even know?”

“It ain't gonna be me. My cousin is gonna handle everything,” he answered.

“Your cousin who?”

“Slug.”

“Slug?” She giggled. “And I'm supposed to get you a connect for some nigga named Slug?”

Freddie waved her off. “Naw, ma. He ain't some nigga; he family.”

Gina looked at Freddie for a minute before telling him what she had already decided. “I already knew what you wanted so I talked to my uncle. Straight up, he doesn't want to fuck wit' you. He doesn't know you, you're on the run, and you're desperate. So he ain't doin' it for you; he's doin' it for me. So these are my rules.” She paused to make sure she had his attention. “I don't want to meet Slug, Thug, or whoever else you got on your team; that's your problem. When we meet, you come alone every time. You violate that, your ass is cut off, point blank. Understood?”

He nodded to confirm.

“Second, I'm only comin' once a month. Not twice, once. Whatever you say bring, I'll bring, but not over five at a time.”

“Five? Gina, we can kill five in a week! You know how much money we can make in the Boro?” Freddie was ready to get rich or die trying, 50 style.

“I'm not doing this for the money, Freddie,” she stated.

“Then what are you doin' it for?” he flirted, hoping he could change her mind. But she ignored the question.

“And I'm chargin' you fifteen a brick.”

Freddie wasn't that familiar with cocaine in large amounts, so he didn't know the blessing he was getting. “Fifteen? Is that good?” he asked, partially oblivious to the whole drug game.

She laughed out loud. “Damn, Freddie! How you gonna be a drug dealer if you don't know what it's worth? Just ask Slug.”

He took that to mean she was looking out on the price. “I appreciate this, Gina.”

“I take that to mean you accept my rules, my way.”

He eyed her delicious thighs. “It's an offer I can't refuse.” He smirked, licking his lips.

Freddie woke up the next morning with Gina shaking him vigorously. “Get up,” she ordered.

He blinked himself awake. The sun had barely risen but Gina was already fully dressed in a PINK sweat suit with her hair pulled up in a ponytail. “Come on, Freddie. I need you to drive me to the airport.”

Freddie sat up. He had slept in his clothes. “Airport? I thought you drove down here.”

Gina smiled like she knew something he didn't. “You ask too many questions. Just get up and brush your teeth before you make me miss my flight.”

Gina seemed to have an entirely different attitude from the night before. Last night, she had been cold and distant, businesslike. She even got in the bed wearing a pair of oversized pajamas with footies, totally closing herself off from Freddie, telling him, “You're welcome to stay, but you ain't gettin' no pussy.” He was too tired to argue and just cradled her.

But now she seemed lighter, her expression open and flirtatious. This always kept Freddie open on Gina because he could never figure her out. She seemed to always be one step ahead of him, and that one step kept him chasing.

He got up and went into the bathroom to use the complimentary hotel toothbrush. After getting himself together, he picked up Gina's small carry-on case and garment bag. Gina threw on her Versace sunglasses and they were out.

They drove to Raleigh-Durham International in Gina's CLK. She massaged the back of Freddie's neck singing along to her Jill Scott CD. When they got to the airport, Gina looked at Freddie and said, “I'ma leave the car wit' you because I am not feelin' that bucket of yours. Leave it to rot.”

Freddie was like a kid on Christmas morning.
A brand new CLK 430
. He looked at the car in a completely new light: his.

“And,” Gina added, looking at her watch casually, “in the lining of the trunk is a little something to get on. After that, straight paper.”

Freddie's game had nothing on Gina's expertise and experience. Once again, she had come through like a trooper. He leaned over and kissed her like he really meant it. Gina felt herself slipping into a zone too explicit for an airport parking lot in broad daylight, so she pulled away.

“Stop, you gonna make me miss my flight,” she said, checking her lipstick in the mirror.

“We can make up for last night,” Freddie suggested.

She pecked him on the lips and replied, “Next time. I have some things I really need to take care of.”

Freddie took the key out of the ignition and they got out to enter the terminal. Once inside, the announcement for Gina's flight echoed through the terminal. When they reached the gate, Gina threw her arms around Freddie's neck and kissed him like she hadn't eaten in days and he was her first meal.

“Oh, so you gonna tease me and just leave me wit' a hard dick, huh?” Freddie chuckled.

She sucked his bottom lip and looked into his eyes. “Just givin' you a little something to think about.”

“So when you comin' back?”

“When you call.”

“That's business. I'm talkin' 'bout when you comin' back?” Freddie emphasized, letting her know her kiss had made her point.

Her eyes became searching and serious. “You asked me why I'm doing this, remember?”

“I remember.”

“I'm doing this because I love you, Freddie. I love you and don't say it back because you don't love me back. But I'm cool with that. I'll be here for you until I get you out of my system or you realize where you need to be. Until then, I'll do whatever I can for you. All I ask is that you don't forget who takes care of you, Freddie. Don't ever forget that. Ever.”

“I won't.”

“Promise me. Promise me you'll never use my love against me!” Gina needed to hear him say it.

For the first time since he had known Gina, she let her vulnerability show, and it touched him in ways he didn't understand. “I promise, ma,” he repeated solemnly.

She searched his eyes for a hint of deception, and whether she saw any she didn't let on. She just kissed him hard and hugged him tight. “Call me,” she whispered as she backed away.

He watched her walk away, not looking back, head held high as she disappeared from sight. He looked at the keys to the Benz in his hand, felt Gina's kiss still lingering on his lips, and wondered what he had promised and if he really could hold true to it.

* * *

I promised worse,
he thought as his mind shifted elsewhere. This was cause for a celebration. He smiled as he whipped along I-40 feeling like the motherfuckin' man. The Benz purred like a kitten but raced like a cheetah. It was a far cry from the clanks and clunks of the Accord he left in the hotel parking lot to rot, just like Gina had told him to do. He gripped the steering wheel in a gangsta lean, feeling like the Freddie he knew himself to be. Not the scrambling, block-hustling nigga he had been forced to become, but the player he was born to be.

Gina had held him down. Whatever was in the trunk, he knew it was his jump off, and he didn't plan to look back. As he pulled up to a light in Smithfield, heads turned and admired his profile with praise and envy. This was the life he was meant to live. He was tired of pulling up to a light or taking Simone to the movies surrounded by sick whips and having to get out of the bucket, niggas smirking because their shit was still spinnin' while his shit was still rattling, threatening to leave him right there in the middle of the road.
Now it's time to show these country jokers a true playa for real.
Freddie's ego emerged.

* * *

He opened the door to his and Simone's apartment to find her sitting on the couch with her arms folded across her breasts. “Where have you been all night, Freddie?” she inquired with quiet intensity.

He wasn't used to Simone questioning him, but he knew it was justified because he hadn't called all night. Besides, he had a surprise, which was also his alibi. He kneeled down in front of her and took her hands in his, then kissed her on the cheek. “Don't be like that, boo. I made you a promise and I'ma keep it, okay? Your man been out makin' shit happen for the three of us,” he explained, and caressed her stomach through her T-shirt. “Come outside. I got somethin' to show you.” He gently lifted a skeptical Simone to her feet and walked her to the door.

“Naw, naw, wait. We gotta do this right. Close your eyes.”

Simone looked at him with building anticipation. “Freddie, what are you up to?”

“Just trust me. Close your eyes.”

Simone closed her eyes, but Freddie covered them with his hands anyway. “I got 'em closed,” she whined, her skepticism about his whereabouts melting away.

“Naw, yo, I know you. You might peek.” He chuckled.

He helped Simone out the door and down the steps, then stopped a few feet from the Benz. “Once upon a time, there was a beautiful little girl named Simone and her dime-ass man, Frederick Von Da Bomb,” he joked, making her laugh before continuing. “They loved each other very much, but times got rough, and everything got dark. That's why your eyes are closed,” he added, and parted his fingers just a tad to let the sunshine in. “But there's light at the end of every tunnel, and the dark past gave way to a bright future.”

Freddie moved his hands. Simone gazed at the CLK in awe, slack-jawed. She gasped. “Freddie, where did you get—”

He kissed her to silence her. “I made a few calls and talked to some cats who owed me a favor. It's on, ma. No more huggin' the block and no more run-down-ass shacks. I told you we wouldn't stop livin' just because of our situation. Your man kept his word, like he always will.”

Simone felt her stomach leap even though it was too early for the baby to be kicking, and threw her arms around Freddie's neck, feeling guilty for thinking what she'd been thinking about his whereabouts. “Oh, Freddie! I'm sorry I doubted you. I just didn't hear from you, and I didn't know what to think. I love you, baby!”

Freddie allowed Simone to cover his face with kisses and tears of relief. She started jumping around like a little girl. “I wanna drive!”

“You wanna drive?”

“Yeah, c'mon!”

He held the keys above her head but moved them when she reached for them. “What you gonna give me?” he asked mischievously.

Her eyes danced flirtatiously. “Come with me and find out,” she teased, taking him by the hand and damn near dragging him to the car.