Riding Dirty on I-95 (20 page)

“Come here. Give me a kiss,” Raheem instructed Mercy. “I love you, boo.”

Mercy gave Raheem a kiss. As she looked in his eyes, she saw his desperation: the same look that a boxer gets in the last round of a fight. It was a look that said he couldn't go on and was willing to do almost anything to get out of the ring. Raheem had thrown in the towel. She couldn't believe how the system had torn him down and how weak he was to let those kinds of thoughts even set in his mind, let alone come out of his mouth. The Raheem she knew was a gangsta dude who had killed, robbed, and slung more drugs than a little bit. It was no doubt that he had done his crime, and twenty years wasn't nothing compared to all the things he had gotten away with for so many years. So why was it a problem for him to press that bunk and do his time? Mercy couldn't understand why Raheem had turned over and sold out to the Feds, but she knew one thing for certain: that she loved Raheem and deep down believed that if she had done the bit with him drama-free, when he came home, the two of them would have lived happily ever after. But on the same note, Mercy knew that there was no way she was going to sell her soul to the devil.

As the visit came to an end, Mercy gave Raheem a big hug and a long wet kiss as he walked her to the door.

“So do you got me, baby?” Raheem asked her. “You gon' hold me down and do what I need you to do to get me up out of here?”

As Mercy stood there, she could only think of one thing—the gambler's anthem that her daddy had told her was all she needed
to survive:
You gotta know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, know when to run.

Mercy looked up at Raheem, smiled, and kissed him good-bye. He smiled back. He took her gesture as a yes, but Mercy knew that she had to walk away from Raheem. She had to walk away forever. Raheem was playing a serious game, and she couldn't get caught up in the web.

“Baby, I can't take no stand against nobody. I love you and the whole nine and probably always will, but real bitches do real things.”

She exited the prison in tears because she didn't know what hand would be dealt to her at this point. She wished she had never gotten caught up in that life in the first place. All she wanted to do was to continue to focus on her writing, which would lead her to honest money, an honest living. She thought about her script and how her newfound friend just might be her ticket to Hollywood. So Mercy hopped in her car and headed home to check her e-mail. Unless ol' dude was full of shit, Mercy was on her way to perhaps claim what was to be her meal ticket, and damn, was she starving!

T
oday was going to be the first day of Mercy's new life. Today would be the first day of her new beginning. She was turning over a new leaf. It all started right here as she waited patiently for the pilot to turn off the BUCKLE SEAT BELT sign. Never in all of her twenty-two years had she ever felt more confident, more secure, and more positive about her life.

I can't believe that I am taxiing the runway and butterflies are not fluttering around in my stomach. How crazy is that?
This was the first time in three years that she had flown in a plane and didn't have some dope shoved up her pussy or some other kind of drugs stashed on her some kind of way. She wasn't even on her way to pick up any, either.
Wow, who'dda thought that the game would have totally changed for me?

In less than fifteen minutes she would be greeted by Taymar “The Razor” Oliver. Although he was known to the entire world as The Razor, Mercy called him Tay He said he liked the way she whispered his name through the phone receiver. He said her voice, her outlook on life, and the places she wanted to go in life were the sexiest things he'd ever heard. Mercy was starting to believe that she could truly fall for him. She had opened up to him
and let him hear all of her ideas, goals, and aspirations. Reading and dreaming big had always been her therapy. This was her way of coping with all the abuse, all the agony and pain that she'd dealt with from foster home to foster home and then finally the group home. Her determination to make it in the world, each time she experienced some kind of abuse, had enabled her to run away from the different foster homes. She had no idea where the strength came from. Perhaps it came from her witnessing the desecration of her daddy at his funeral that gave her the spunk to do whatever she felt was best for her. She always reminded herself of the life that her daddy would have wanted for her: great success, lots of money, happiness, and a man who adored her. That's what she hoped she could find in Taymar.

Tay was also a heavyweight in every aspect of the word. As a matter of fact, that's how he'd gotten his nickname “The Razor.” He was known for being razor sharp—not only in the boxing ring, but in the stock market as well. Five months ago he'd made boxing history. Not only did he knock the most undisputed boxer of our time the fuck out, but he did it in the first round of the fight. That alone would make him go down in the boxing history books as a legend, and Mercy felt that if she became his wifey boo and owned the key to his heart, it would be an opportunity in more ways than one.

From their long heartfelt conversations, Mercy felt she could finally be loved wholeheartedly the way that she knew her daddy always wanted her to be loved and the way she had always longed to be loved—genuinely loved for who she was inside and not for what she did for a dollar. The way those other men had her jeopardizing her life and freedom, there was no way possible they could love Mercy. But when it came to Taymar, Mercy felt that he would be different, that he saw her for who she was and what she desired to be.

Mercy couldn't help from looking towards the future with Tay. Becoming wifey to Tay was a way she could live her dream. It could be the key to her film career. Someone in his position definitely had to have the resources and connections to help her get her career off the ground. She had no interest whatsoever in being an actress on the big screen. She was a behind-the-scenes type of gal. After all, those kinds of people made the most money. They called the shots and had all the power. One way or another she intended to be one of those individuals, and with Tay by her side to love her first and foremost and then give her the necessary plugs, she couldn't go wrong.

As Mercy sat on the plane, her imagination ran wild as she thought of how crazy it was for her and Tay to be hooking up. Although they would have to have a long-distance relationship, him living in Chicago and her living in Richmond, Virginia, talking on the phone every single day would keep them on each other's mind.

Never having met him in person, Mercy hoped it was her mind and soul he was in love with. But that didn't mean that she couldn't wait for him to start loving her for other things as well. Mercy could hardly wait to get to his house. If everything went well, she was going to put it on him like Ja Rule talks about in that song with Lil' Mo.

“On behalf of the captain and the rest of the crew, we hope you enjoy your stay in the Chicago area. Thank you for traveling with United Airways,” the flight attendant said over the intercom as the passengers jumped up to get their luggage from the overhead compartments.

Mercy grabbed her cute little Gucci carry-on and exited the plane. Her heart was racing as she entered the airport. Heading to the tram to ride it over to the baggage claim area, she reached in her bag and pulled out her cell phone to call Tay and let him know that her plane had landed, but she didn't have any service. As she
rode the tram, she scanned it from left to right. Mercy always paid close attention to the people around her. It was a habit she got from running drugs. Living that kind of life, working that job, she never knew what or who was coming her way, so she had to be on point at all times. She noticed a lady in a business suit who looked as if she had a lot on her mind.

“Excuse me, do you have service on your cell phone?” the lady asked Mercy, noticing her phone in her hand. “Or is it just my crappy cell phone company?”

“My cell phone provider is just as crappy as yours,” Mercy said as she looked at her cell phone. “Mine doesn't have any service either, but you know how these underground trams are.”

“Yeah, with all this technology you would think that they would have the phones updated.”

“I know,” Mercy agreed. She could feel the tram slowing up to come to a complete stop. As she was walking off, she made eye contact with the lady and smiled.

“Have a good one,” the lady said as Mercy headed to her designated carousel.

As her eyes swept the airport, Mercy was sure she would notice Tay from all of the flowers and balloons that he would probably have for her. He had already sent her “just because” flowers, a card, and some balloons, so she assumed he would have something for her in person. She had described the outfit she'd be wearing so that he would recognize her. She looked around at the gate but didn't see him anywhere.

Hmmm, this is strange. He must be running late
, she thought. She looked down at her phone and saw that it now had service, so she dialed Tay's number. The phone rang three times and then went into his voice mail. She listened to his recorded message: “You have reached the voice mailbox of Taymar ‘The Razor’ Oliver. If you're calling to ask for money, to establish paternity, or
some other drama, then hang up. But if your call is legit or it's my boo, then leave me a message at the beep.”

“Hey, baby, it's me,” Mercy said, speaking softly and sexily so that he wouldn't think she was pissed at him for not being there to pick her up on time or anything. She didn't want their little rendezvous to get off to a bad start. “I'm here. Where are you? I'm down here at baggage claim getting my luggage. It's baggage claim thirty-four, so you can meet me there. Can't wait to see you.”

Knowing her phone would be ringing any minute now, she kept it in her hand as she took her luggage off the carousel. That's when she heard her phone's low-battery alert sounding.

“Oh, shit,” she said to herself. When she was at the airport in Richmond waiting to board her flight to Chicago, she'd talked on the phone for a whole hour kicking the bo-bo with Tay so now her phone was almost dead. The next thing she did was look around for a pay phone. She spotted one right by the restrooms. She didn't want to try to call him again with her phone's last bit of power, so she decided to use the pay phone to call Tay again just in case he tried to call her.

She dialed Tay's number again using a calling card that would bill the call to her home phone. This time he picked up on the first ring.

“Yo,” Tay said in a dry tone. She thought he would sound more excited than that. After all, he was the one who insisted on the two of them getting together. There was definitely a connection. When she lay in bed at night with the phone to her ear, it felt like he was lying right there next to her. He had told her that he felt the same way. She assumed he would also be excited as hell to actually be next to each other in the flesh.

“Hey, baby, where you at?” she purred in a sexy manner.

“At the airport in traffic,” he said, sounding very frustrated. She decided that she wasn't going to look into it, because she could only imagine how he felt about being caught up in traffic.

“You running late?” she asked.

“Naw, I'm good. Just got caught up in traffic,” he stated.

“Well, I'm here,” she said enthusiastically.

“I know,” he replied, once again dryly.

“I'm still at baggage claim, so I'll just grab my bags and meet you outside.”

“Oh, baby, it ain't no need for that,” he was quick to say.

“You want me to wait inside?”

“Naw, you gotta decide what you want to do,” he said, stressing the word
you.

Mercy was caught off guard. “What you mean, baby?”

“I can either circle back around and pick you up and we can go and ‘fuck out’ the whole weekend, or you can change your ticket because it's fully refundable.”

“Change my ticket?” she said puzzled.

“You can change your ticket, go back to where you came from, get a membership at somebody's gym, and run about thirty or forty pounds off. You can holla at me then. It's up to you.”

Oooouuuch! That hand came out of nowhere and smacked Mercy right across the face. She could feel the tears in her eyes.

“Now, what's it going to be?” he snapped.

Mercy was speechless. She didn't know what to say or what to think at this point. This wasn't the Tay she had been communicating with, falling in huge infatuation with.

“I don't understand. Where's all this coming from?” she somehow managed to get out between silent tears.

“Mercy, look, I'm gonna be real with you like we have been with each other. I was already there, in the airport, and I saw you.” He paused for a moment and then continued on. “You have everything I want in a wife except … except you are just a little thicker than the women I usually date. And as you know, image is everything to a nigga like me. We talkin' about the champ. I work
out every day, and I can't have a plus-size, out-of-shape chick on my arm. I just can't. It's simply not a good look. Do you know what my publicist would say?”