Rapture (20 page)

“Fuck that. I don’t think there’s a damn thing you can look bad in, so if it’s a scarf you need, then it’s a scarf you should wear. Just do it before my urges are up because there’s only seconds to spare once that happens, baby!”

“And see, I know that. So braids it is. I’m not in the mood to be sitting in the chair getting my hair repaired because my boyfriend can’t keep his hands off of me. I wanna just go with the moment without worrying about the consequences.”

“Whatever you want, baby, it’s yours. You want a stylist here at the house everyday or trips to the salon, it’s yours. You want braids, they’re yours. As long as you’re mine. That’s all I care about.”

“
Oh
,
I’m yours
. That’s a given.”

By the time we finished talking and making love again, the sun was teasing its way through the wooden shutters in my bedroom.

“Please don’t tell me that clock already says, 5,” I sighed.

“It’s five. Three minutes after, to be exact.”

“Then I’m gonna have to go to sleep,” I said, laying my head across Alika’s plush breasts. Her breasts had become my deep sleeping pill. I just hoped that I could lay on them and not feel the urge to start sucking and nibbling on them. That would only make me even more tired than I already knew I would be when I met with Bart.

~
21
~

Rush

Sunday, October 12, 2014

I had already yawned six times while I was scanning the breakfast menu. Stopping to get a Red Bull should’ve been the first thing I did before stepping foot into a damn diner. Getting up early wasn’t the problem. I’d always done that to get my workout in and start my day. All the bullshit excitement with Jacob’s ass wasn’t even the issue. The issue, or rather the situation, was this: I had gotten more than I asked for in Alika’s ass—figuratively, and literally. She was what I had been needing/wanting all the time I was wasting time on women I knew I didn’t see past a good fuck, or some head. She was beautiful without even trying. She had a cool personality that everybody migrated towards, she was smart, and the sex was enough to want to keep me in bed from sun up to sun down. That girl was everything in one package. And I still hadn’t learned that just thinking about her made my dick rise, because there I was feeling the front of my sweats trying to alter its state.
Down boy
!
Down
! I thought, as I shifted my weight in the seat.
Refocus on this meeting
!
Yeah, do that
!

Right on time I looked up to see Bart approaching. I had both my hands atop the table; my fingers were interlocked, as I watched him curiously. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve stood to greet him, but I honestly didn’t know what tone all of this would take, so I decided to stay seated, while he pulled out the chair across from me.

“Hey Rush,” he said, without making direct eye contact—another dead giveaway.

“What’s up, Bart? Didn’t get to see you and Jillian leave last night. How’d she like the club?”

“Oh, she liked it a lot. She’s just not much of a clubber, so we took off pretty early.”

“Yeah, I know. And you guys left without saying goodbye? I found that kinda odd.”

He laughed uncomfortably. “You know how it is, man. When these women want something
now
, you kinda gotta give it to ‘em.”

My nerves were getting to me as I studied his discomfort, so to temporarily distract myself, I slowly leaned my chair back on its hind legs then brought it back down to the floor. My energy was boosting and I felt it, so I was trying to level myself so that I didn’t feel inclined to react on impulse. Bart was dictating that whole emotion and I felt like it was because he was being shifty. If there were any doubts before, I didn’t have any now that I was in Bart’s presence. He was nervous as hell. I knew he was uncomfortable by the way he made sure to avoid eye contact.

“So you left because
Jillian
was ready to go?” I confirmed.

He hunched his shoulders and folded his hands across his lap. “Aww, shit. You know…married life, man. Just trying to spend time the way she wants to spend time to honor all the bullshit I took her through. Trying to be a better husband and cater to her needs more,” he chuckled. Then he leaned in and playfully stated: “You know it was my needs that almost fucked us off. So, I’m just trying to get back on track.”

When Bart leaned back into his seat, I looked at him for a minute. I was pondering. He was a friend, and someone I had known for years. He was someone I had always trusted. I trusted him enough to hire him as my business manager—the
manager
of my business
! Yet now, I sat trying to assess the existence that we shared. That should never be. I nodded his way, and then lightly sucked my teeth.

“Mmm, okay. I’m glad to know that it was because Jillian wanted to leave. I thought maybe it had something to do with the question I was in the middle of getting an answer to.” As I sat there, my suspicions were starting to get the best of me. I probably would never have suspected Bart of anything had he not been seen in the company of Jacob, a person that neither of us had spoken to in quite some time. Instinctively, I wanted to reach across the table on Bart’s ass, but I was seriously working to channel the urge. He raised his hand to signal the waitress, who slowly made her way over to the table.

“Can I get you something, sir?”

“Uh, yeah…can I get a glass of water, please?”

“Coming right up,” she answered, walking off.

“My throat is dry,” Bart started, as he ran his hand across his throat.

I spoke calmly. “You’re full of shit, Bart. Your throat isn’t dry at all. You’re about to shit your pants. You didn’t leave from anywhere because of Jillian. So tell me this, are you the one running hoes out of Chaos?”

You could hear a pin drop when I asked him that question. His skin appeared to turn a light crimson and he inhaled a deep breath, seemingly struggling for an answer.

“No, Rush. I’m not.”

“Is that the truth, Bart?”

“Yeah, man. It’s the truth.”

“So did your leaving have anything to do with me running into Jacob at my club last night then—in the middle of some kind of drug transaction? He did tell me to have
you
call him right before I made his ass leave?”

“Oh, that happened? I hadn’t heard.”

“What the fuck do you mean you haven’t heard? Is that all you got for me, Bart? Because I suggest you put some more details on. Like details about why the fuck you had him and another motherfucker in my damn club
without me knowing
or without me being there. And then I’m gonna need you to get your response together for why he said for you to call him in the exact same moment I saw him passing around pills in my fucking establishment!”

I looked around at the near-empty café and consciously lowered my tone, but I didn’t know how long I would be able to contain myself. Right then the waitress appeared with the glass of water that Bart had requested.

“Thank you,” he said in a low voice, once she sat his water before him.

“Will that be all?” she queried, looking from him to me.

“Yes, for now. Thank you,” he replied to her.

“Rush, let me explain.”

“Explain what, exactly, Bart? Explain why I shouldn’t grab you the fuck up outta that chair and drag you out to the concrete and beat the fuck outta you? Is that what you want to explain?”

“My hands were tied, Rush. I didn’t know—”

“What the fuck do you mean your hands were tied?” I was a pressure cooker about to explode, and I could feel it. I wished to hell that we weren’t sitting in a public place so that I could beat his ass into deep regret.

“He was going to tell Jillian about me and Bianca if I didn’t help him.”

“Who the hell is Bianca? Help him with what?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“At first it was just keeping quiet about him running hookers through Chaos—”

“Wait…! The hoes in my club? So you do know about that?! I just asked you and—”

“You asked if
I
was the one doing it. I’m not. It’s Jacob.”

“What the fuck?!”

“Hold on, Rush,” he whispered. “Hear me out, man.”

“Let me hear you out…
outside
,” I said, standing from my seat.

But Bart wouldn’t surrender his spot. He looked up at me, his face turning beat red in the process. “Rush, just sit down for one minute and let me tell you the rest.”

“I’m not interested in talking, Bart. Get the fuck up.”

“Rush…I swear to God, man. Just let me tell you the rest and then you can do whatever the fuck, because I’m already gonna lose in all this anyway. Nothing will be left after I tell you this because Jacob will make sure that Jillian sees the video of me and what I did. That’s what I’ve been protecting this whole time.”

“That sounds like some bullshit, Bart. There’s more to all this and for some reason, you’re trying to play me stupid right now. That’s not the right thing to do.”

“Just a few minutes, Rush. Please.”

Reluctantly, I sat down at the edge of my seat, reaching under me to scoot it closer to his side of the table. I tucked my bottom lip between my teeth and glared at him. “Go ahead,” I instructed.

After I listened to him explain for the next eighteen minutes about how Jacob had him by the balls, all I could offer his ass was a blank stare—the same stare that had been on him since he entered the café. He sounded like a fucking idiot.

“So there was no part of you that felt you could just come to me and let me know about this bullshit, Bart? Your first mind was to fuckin’ put my business at risk, you dumb fuck? How many times has your wife taken you back for sticking your dick in places it didn’t belong? How many of your friends have you fucked over that left your ass for good? How long have I stayed in spite of how nobody else wanted to fuck with you?! Whose house were you at crying like a pussy when Jillian didn’t want shit to do with you? Who the fuck went to talk to her on your behalf when she was seconds from signing divorce papers?”

“You did…you did…I know,” he expressed, lowering his head. “You can’t begin to know how sorry I am, Rush.”

“Sorry, huh? So sorry that I had to pry the goddamn answer from you? I don’t believe your fucking apology for one damn minute, Bart!”

All the while I roared over him, Bart never raised his head. He was probably too scared to attempt eye contact for fear of what I would do to him. However, when he did lift his head, and opened his mouth to speak, he released words that I never expected to hear: “Jacob mentioned that he recognized Alika…” he whispered.

I was temporarily stunned into silence. It was like a triple echo sounding off in a hollow space.

“What? Know her how?”

“He has a partner that he works with named Curtis and he said that—”

At the sound of that man’s name, my entire skin tone probably turned a deep crimson, and before I knew it, I’d snatched Bart up from his seat by his collar and had blacked out and commenced to pummeling his ass right there in the restaurant. Not only had he been in cahoots with somebody who I no longer called a friend, but this same individual had ties to the dirt bag fuck that had caused Alika pain! I couldn’t stop myself. As each blow connected, I saw everything from then and now. Living with my father, an almost-damaged career because of Jacob, an ungrateful motherfucker, an ungrateful ass so-called friend, and how I could’ve once again lost everything because of my loyalty to people who never deserved my loyalty in the first place.

I didn’t hear the various people yelling for me to stop. I didn’t hear Bart begging for his life, and I didn’t hear the police sirens even pull up to café. I had absolutely no idea just how bad things were until I felt hands pulling me off of a non-responsive Bart, who was lying beneath me, several yards from where we had initially been sitting.

I was slammed to the ground and could feel metal clinking around both my wrists. I had blacked out and didn’t know a damn thing about what was happening. My stare was bearing deep on Bart, not caring whether he moved or not.

~
22
~

March 11, 2003

By the time Rush saw the lights from the police car, it was too late. He had just tried to tap the brake to slow the speed of the car, but they had obviously already clocked his speed on the radar. Rush! Fuck, man!

“Just stay calm. Why are you panicking, Jacob? I was speeding, we’re good.”

“Easy for you to say,” he whispered in a harsh tone. “You ain’t got shit on you. I do!”

“The fuck you mean you got shit on you?” King asked from the backseat. “You ridin’ dirty dumb ass?! You can’t be serious. You got me fucked up!”

“I can’t have this shit on my record, y’all! I got drafts next month! What the fuck am I go—”

“Shhh!” Rush shot “Jake! Shut the fuck up, man!”

There was a tap at the window from one of the two officers who had approached the vehicle. The second officer was on the passenger side, flashing his light inside the front and backseat.

“I was speeding officer, my bad. I wasn’t paying attention,” Rush offered, nervously, while raising his window down.

“License and registration, please,” the officer requested, leaning down slightly to see all the car’s occupants.

“Sure…” Rush commented, reaching to the glove compartment for his insurance and registration. After producing that information, he asked, “Officer, I need to reach into my pocket for my license. Do I have your permission to do that?”

“Yeah,” the officer responded assessing the items in his hand. After Rush had handed over his license and it had been reviewed by the officer, seemingly, everything was fine.

“I’m going to need identification from your passengers as well,” he said looking from Jacob, to King. I’ll need you all to step out of the car, please.”

“I’m sorry, Officer, but why are we getting out of the car?” Rush asked. “I was only speeding. Can’t you just issue the ticket?”

“Man…don’t get smart with dude, Rush…” King said quietly, from the back seat. “Just gonna make shit worse.”

“Step out of the car, gentlemen. The sooner you comply, the sooner you’ll be on your way. This isn’t up for debate.”

Five minutes later, all three were sitting on the curb next to Rush’s vehicle under the supervision of the second officer, while the first officer proceeded to search the vehicle. Rush could feel Jacob burning a hole through him, and he saw King hold his head down beside him, but Rush stared straight ahead. He had all kinds of emotions burning holes through his veins. From fear…something he rarely felt, to anger…something that had been a problem since he was a child, and even sorrow for what could become. The three of them were on their way in the sports world, and were forces to be reckoned with, in their own rights. They had grown up together. Not in the same neighborhoods, but at the same high school—King was from West Oakland and was sent to live with his aunt and uncle during the school year. And Jacob was from San Lorenzo. When Jacob’s mother got wind of his involvement with local drug dealers, she fought tooth and nail to get him into San Ramon Valley High for a better opportunity. When she was rejected on an inter-district transfer, she did the only thing she could. She went so far as to triple her rent, taking a high-priced 1-bedroom in San Ramon—with three kids—just so that she could get Jacob away from the obvious threat to his future.

Rush had spent a lot of time at the small apartment with Jacob doing homework, helping him to babysit his younger siblings, and also having dinner with the family. So much so, that Rush was considered a part of the family.

“Well, what do we have here?” the officer said, walking over to the sitting trio. In one hand he held a paper bag, and in the other, he held several small packets of what they all recognized as marijuana. “Looks like too much to smoke on. Looks like someone might be dabbling a bit with distribution…intent to sell. Is that what this is?” the officer asked, directing his attention to Jacob. “I found these under your seat, Mr. Lawson. Clearly we can see that this here is weed, but it’s what’s in this paper bag that carries the most weight. I mean, cocaine? Really? I would think that you would be smarter than this. I’m sure you can guess what this means, right?”

Nobody said anything. They had all been told to reserve the right to speak whenever pulled over. Rush already knew the drill and already knew the wrath of what he would hear from his father. He also knew that after this was all over with, there was a real possibility that King would never speak to him again—at least not in the presence of Jacob who he never really liked to begin with. Not to mention Bart and Gavin, when they found out. Nobody really came around when Jacob was around because trouble always seemed to follow. It was why King was the only one in attendance that night when the invitation to hit the club was extended. The others balked at going. And now there they were.

Rush looked over at King who was mugging him harder than he’d ever in their entire time knowing each other. He already knew what the glare was about. When Rush caught a glimpse of Jacob, however, it was an entirely different person than the one he was used to…there were tears. In that moment, Rush thought about Miss Glenda, Jacob’s mother, who had treated him like her own son. The same Miss Glenda who moved out of the hood to give her son a better life so that he could in turn one day give her a better life. And the same Miss Glenda who he had seen come in from work many times, dead ass tired, only to head straight to the kitchen to prepare meals for her family. Those were all the memories Rush needed when he reached a decision.

“Officer…the drugs are mine. Neither of them knew what was in the car when they got in. That was why I was so combative when you asked us to get out of the car.” And those were the only words that Rush spoke as they were all placed in the back of the squad car and taken into custody.

~*~*~

“Drugs in your car! What part of fuckin’ stupid do you reside in, Hunter?” his father yelled through the cell. Rush was in the passenger seat of Jonathan Rebbel’s car, his father’s lawyer’s. “Do you even give half a fuck how this shit makes me look? Who the fuck am I kidding? Of course not! As long as you can hang out and do thug shit and think you’re some kind of street nig—”

“Don’t go there, dad!” Rush exclaimed, putting a finale to the tail end of his father’s sentence. “Like, don’t even think about it. If that’s your school of thought then you go ahead and reside there, but don’t ever say that shit around me,” Rush relayed calmly, yet stern, to his father.

“Excuse me!”

“You heard me.”

“So, this is the thanks that I get for bailing your ass out of a situation that could very well keep you off the baseball field? You’re an ungrateful son of a bitch, Rush. You have your whole life ahead of you, you come from a good family, you have the lay of the land at your feet, and yet none of it matters to you.”

“That’s not true, dad. It matters.”

“Clearly, it doesn’t. So you know what? Since you don’t know just how good you have it, let’s see how well you manage when I’m not there to pick up the pieces! How ‘bout that?”

Rush hunched his shoulders. There were words he wanted to say to his father, but it was a waste of time. Even if he explained the motive behind his actions, his father would never get it. In fact, he would probably hate him even more. Rush did what he thought any good friend in his position would do. The fact of the matter was that he knew the consequences for him would be far less than they would’ve been for Jacob or King. He knew it with every fiber in his body. He also knew that Miss Glenda didn’t deserve that. He only hoped that Jacob would realize the error of his ways and not do anything to fuck up, especially since he had NFL drafts coming next month, in April. He couldn’t afford to fuck anything up for himself.

The month leading up to the draft, and even after, Rush didn’t hear from Jacob. And even when the guys told him that he was better off without Jacob around, Rush still wondered what had happened to his friend. At the very least, a thank you from him would’ve been nice. But there he was every other week, it seemed, gracing the cover of yet another tabloid, linked to a different woman and living the life. The night that Rush had run into Janae, Jacob’s sister while he was out partying in San Francisco, he found out from her that aside from the money that Jacob periodically sent home to their mother, he had been MIA for the most part. He had really gotten wrapped up in the lure of the athlete lifestyle.

Right then and there everything had been confirmed for Rush, and he let it go at that time. His father had been right all along about Jacob. Jacob was nothing but an opportunist—an opportunist with a false sense of entitlement
…