The Prada Plan 2: Leah's Story (14 page)

Mekhi pulled up to YaYa’s townhome and noticed that it was pitch black inside. Khi-P had been attracted to YaYa from the first day she set foot on Southern soil, and with Indie away, he knew that she needed a shoulder to cry on. He checked in with YaYa once a week, making sure she was straight and offering money if she needed it. She always declined. There wasn’t another man in the world that could take care of her the way Indie had. Mekhi could sense her loyalty to Indie. Even now that he was locked up, she still carried herself as his lady, unyielding and unapologetic about her emotions toward him.

Mekhi could sense that YaYa was a thorough and loyal woman, so he respected her as such. He didn’t mind checking in on her from time to time. It only gave him an excuse to visit the beautiful woman, and surprisingly, they had established somewhat of a friendship, or rather an understanding. She was swimming in the deep end right now, just trying to stay afloat, and he was her life jacket. He was trying to stand in for Indie as best he could, but YaYa’s heart didn’t want a substitute. She craved the real thing, the original, the authenticity of Indie Perkins.

Activating the alarm on his Cadillac Escalade ESV, he hopped out and proceeded to YaYa’s door. He felt bad for YaYa. A chick like her deserved to be taken care of, protected. Somewhere along the line Indie had dropped the ball and allowed his lady to be accessible. She had been touched by the cruel hand of the streets, something that she should have never been exposed to in the first place. Now she was forced live without him. With Indie in prison, she had been demoted. YaYa was just another girlfriend to another hustler who had gotten penned up in the streets. With him, she was royalty; without him, she was typical.

As Mekhi rang her doorbell, he waited patiently for her to let him in. He frowned when he didn’t get an answer. Her car was parked out front, so he knew that she was home. He peered up at the townhome and saw a small light flickering on the top floor. He reached for the door handle, and to his surprise, turned it with ease.

“Yo! YaYa! It’s Khi-P. You home, ma?” he called as he walked slowly through the front door.

Receiving no response, he made his way toward the staircase, only to find that the hardwood floors were covered in water. It trickled down the stairs like a mini waterfall.

“YaYa!” he called with urgency, frowning while ascending the steps. He followed the wet path into her bedroom, knocking respectfully before he entered. “Yo!” he shouted. “Yo, ma, your shit is all fucked up downstairs. There’s water every—” He finally rounded the corner into the master bathroom and his words caught in his throat.

“YaYa!” he yelled as he rushed over to her and pulled her from the bloody, overflowing water. He turned off the faucet as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.

“YaYa! Ma, wake up for me. Wake up!” he shouted as he inspected her shredded wrists while simultaneously pulling out his cell phone. There was blood everywhere. It was oozing out of her freely and soaking into her crisp white bed linens. She wasn’t breathing. He had no idea how long she had been bleeding.

Sympathy took over him as he shook his head from side to side. “What did you do, baby?” he asked her with his Southern drawl.

Dialing 911, he hoped that they could save her. Her body was so limp in his arms that he feared it may be too late. As he gave the address to the operator, he tried his hardest to dress her wounds. He didn’t want to have to tell Indie that his girl had died right before his eyes.

As Khi-P fought for her life, he called her name repeatedly, hoping that she could hear his voice and would come to. They had taken enough L’s from their camp. They couldn’t afford to lose her too. She didn’t deserve the hand that she had been dealt.

“You should have never come down South, ma. This ain’t for you,” he said, knowing that it was too late for her to hear him.

Little did he know her troubles started way before she came to Houston. Leah Richards was her predator, and she was lurking in the shadows, waiting, watching, enjoying every moment of chaos she was stirring up in Disaya’s life.

When YaYa came to, the first face that she saw was Mekhi’s, and tears came to her eyes.
What the fuck happened? Why am I still here? Where’s my baby girl? I should be with her right now,
she thought as she attempted to sit up in the hospital bed.

“Relax, YaYa. Lay back,” Mekhi stated as he adjusted the covers around her body to make her more comfortable.

“You brought me here?” she asked, her voice raspy.

Mekhi nodded as he looked at her in concern. “I came by to check on you. Nobody’s heard from you. I just wanted to make sure everything was all right. I see that things aren’t,” he said.

“I can’t do this anymore, Khi. I don’t have anything left. All I feel is pain…so much pain it’s almost indescribable,” YaYa whispered as she closed her eyes. “You should’ve just left me where you found me.”

Her wrists felt like they had been put into a shredder, and her head throbbed from the stress of it all. Awaking from a suicide attempt was worse than dying from one. Now she had to face everyone she had tried to leave behind and hear the whispers while facing the inquisitions of why.

“Nah, ma, don’t say that. Stop letting life beat you. You can get through this. You just need some time to get your head together,” Mekhi said as he reached for her hand.

Her hospital door opened, and an Indian woman in a white doctor’s coat entered the room. Behind her stood two male nurses.

“She’s finally awake?” the doctor observed.

Khi-P nodded his head as he avoided YaYa’s gaze.

“I’ve made room for her on our eleventh floor psych ward. We’ll commit her there until we are sure she is fit to go home without risk.”

“Khi-P, what is she talking about?” YaYa asked as she sat up. She attempted to get out of bed, but her body felt as if she had been hit by a Mack truck. The pain medication that she had been given had her drowsy, and she felt as if she weighed a thousand pounds.

The doctor never looked her way as she continued to speak. “This is not a long-term stay. Her release is fully dependent on herself. She is in control of her own freedom. When she proves that she will not bring harm to herself, then we will release her.”

“Bitch, why are you talking to him? I’m right here. Speak to me!” YaYa yelled angrily.

She looked toward Khi-P for answers, but he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes. Having her institutionalized was not his decision, but the hospital could not simply ignore what she had done to herself. Her attempt to end her life was blatant. Unlike so many others who simply crave attention, YaYa had gone all out. She had cut her veins in half. If Mekhi hadn’t shown up when he did, she would already be a distant memory.

Seeing no ally in Khi-P, she focused her rage and confusion back on the doctor. “You’re not committing me! I’m not crazy!” she shouted.

The doctor simply turned toward the male nurses and nodded her head.

As she watched them approach her, she pleaded with Mekhi. “Khi! No! Don’t let them do this to me!” she shouted as the two men rolled her hospital bed out of the room.

Mekhi lowered his face into his hands and closed his eyes while YaYa’s screams of protest rang in his ears.

The padded walls closed in on YaYa as she thought about how her life had come to this. The cramped space of the eight-by-seven room was enough to send her over the edge.

She knew that one day the past would catch up to her. Her Prada Plan had backfired. Yes, it got her paid and even earned her the position of wifey, but it never gained her happiness. The one thing she was seeking was forever elusive.

Nothing about Disaya was insane. Grief-stricken, yes. Angry, yes. Tired, yes. But there was nothing crazy about her. No one understood her actions. Her therapist couldn’t fathom the love she had for her daughter. Killing herself was an easy feat in order to be reunited with baby Sky. Her love as a mother ran that deep, but they punished her for it, keeping her locked away as if her mind had abandoned her. They pumped her with narcotics for depression and to put her to sleep, but all it did was numb the pain. Nothing short of the grave could take it away.

YaYa heard the locks being opened on her door and she looked up blankly. Her therapist walked in.

“You have a visitor today, Ms. Morgan. You told me that you have no living family, but your sister is here for you,” the white man announced as he jotted notes in his notepad to record her reaction.

“I don’t have a sister,” she replied dryly. “There must be a mistake. She must be here for someone else.”

“Well, why don’t you go and see for yourself? This will be good for you.”

Frowning, YaYa arose. The laceless slippers on her feet slapped the tiled floor as she walked down the hall. She figured that Mekhi had sent Trina or one of the other girls to check in on her. Nothing could have prepared her for the face that waited at her table.

She stopped mid-step when she saw Leah sitting smugly, legs crossed as if she were truly there with good intentions. She instantly flashed back to the hell that Leah had caused in New York. Images of Indie’s beating appeared in her head, and her breath caught in her throat as she remembered how Leah had ruined her life. She had come through like a hurricane and blown YaYa’s spot all the way up, leaving nothing but destruction in her wake.

What is she doing here? How did she—

All of the rage that YaYa had bubbled to the surface all at once, and YaYa charged at Leah.

“You fuckin’ bitch!” YaYa yelled. Her outburst caused the guards to rush her as they restrained her arms. She bucked wildly against them. “Let me go! I just want to talk to her! I’m not going to do anything!”

“Calm down! You have to calm down!” one of the guards ordered.

“I’m fucking calm!” YaYa shouted back as she snatched away from them. She put her hands up and flipped her hair out of her face. “I’m calm.”

YaYa walked over to the table slowly in an effort to look composed, but on the inside, she was boiling as she examined Leah’s appearance. She had always been beautiful, but something about her was different, sickly. Her skin was an ashen green color, and a light sweat covered her face, making her skin appear waxy.

The baby bump that she sported couldn’t be missed. The sight of her made YaYa yearn for her daughter. Jealousy filled her because Leah didn’t deserve a baby, not after all of the horrible things that she had done.

YaYa knew that she was a far cry from the glamorous hot girl she once was. Insecurity filled her as she began to fidget with her hospital clothes.

She knew that Leah was there for a reason. YaYa knew how the bitch ticked. Every move Leah made was a prelude to a future set-up.

She didn’t come all this way for nothing,
YaYa thought, but what she didn’t know was that Leah had been there all along.

Leah sat with her arms folded as YaYa took the seat across from her. The arrogant smirk on Leah’s face infuriated YaYa. She was so smug, so confident, as if she held a secret that no one else knew.

“How did you find me?” YaYa asked.

“Ha!” Leah scoffed. “You are giving me too much credit, YaYa. I didn’t find you, honey. You found me. I’ve been in Houston for quite some time now.” Leah pulled a manila folder out of her Hermès bag and slid them across the table for YaYa to see.

She continued to talk as YaYa began to flip through the contents. “You see, I told you I was going to take everything you ever loved, and that includes the men in your life, YaYa.”

“Bitch, Indie is locked up. You can’t get your claws into him now. He’s not getting out anytime soon, so your little plan is all fucked up,” YaYa spat.

“What makes you think I’m talking about Indie?” Leah asked.

YaYa frowned. “I don’t have time for mind games.”

“Besides, Indie was easy. I already got to him,” Leah said as she touched her bulging stomach. The fake belly bump that she sported served its purpose well. It was convincing, and the look on YaYa’s face was priceless.

“I’m about to have his baby. What happened to your daughter is a shame, YaYa. Our kids would have been siblings.” Her every word was crushing YaYa syllable by syllable. “When I said I would take everything from you, nothing was off limits…nothing or no one.”

As if a light bulb had gone off in her head, YaYa’s eyes grew wide.
This bitch has been down here all along. She’s behind it all. She took my baby. She hurt my baby!

“You bitch!” she shouted as she completely spazzed, standing up and tossing her chair directly at Leah. “What did you do to my daughter?” she screamed hysterically as she reached across the table for Leah. The guards were already on alert and restrained her before she could attack Leah.

Leah smiled deviously as she stood to her feet. “Checkmate,” she said, waving at YaYa as the guards pulled her from the room.

“I’m going to kill you! What did you do to my baby? What did you do? Leah, please! Aghh! You dirty bitch!” Her shrill cries bounced off the walls as they pulled YaYa down the hall and out of sight.

As YaYa’s shrink came rushing into the room, Leah’s glare was replaced by an innocent look of concern.

“What happened? Your visit was supposed to help. What did you say to her?” the therapist asked.

“Nothing at all. She just erupted. My sister is sick. This is exactly where she needs to be,” Leah said. She turned and walked out of the hospital, satisfied.

As soon as she made it to her car, the contents of her stomach came up. She was growing more and more ill by the day. The pain in her womb was so unbearable that even walking hurt, but she was determined to finish this, even if it meant self-destruction as well.

She removed the strap-on belly as soon as she got into the car, but it wasn’t long before the crying resumed.

Waaa! Waaa!

Leah covered her ears and tried to breathe, but the sounds wouldn’t go away. She pulled away from the mental hospital and turned up her radio, but her efforts were futile. Nothing could silence the screams of the innocent. Every cry caused her pain to multiply, and she gripped her stomach in agony.

The cry turned into nerve-shattering wails, causing her to lose it. She pulled over on the side of the road and stumbled out of the car. She couldn’t take it anymore. What had started out as a planned kidnapping had quickly gotten out of hand. It was becoming too much for her to handle, and Leah couldn’t take it anymore. She walked to the back of her car and popped the trunk. There sat baby Skylar, crying her heart out. “Shut up! Shut…the fuck…up!” Leah shouted, causing the cries to grow louder.

Leah started to just slam the trunk closed, but something stopped her. As she looked down at Skylar, she wished that she really had gotten rid of her. Killing her own baby had been a selfish mistake, an accident. It was her body’s reaction to uncontrollable and irresponsible cocaine use. When it came time to get rid of Sky, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Murdering a child who had already been born into the world took more malice than even Leah possessed. She was waiting to build the moxie to do it, to harm the infant, but the longer she kept her and the more she cried, Leah began to realize that she didn’t have it in her. If she wasn’t going to kill her, there was only one other alternative. She had absolutely no intentions of giving YaYa her daughter back.

For the first time since taking her, Leah looked at her, she really looked at her, and saw what a beautiful little girl Skylar actually was. The crying pierced through her cold exterior and resonated with the neglected and abused child that still lived inside.

Leah picked Skylar up out of the trunk and held her up in front of her face. Tears began to flood involuntarily from her eyes as she felt her insides warming. The cold layer of ice that surrounded her heart was slowing melting away as she fell in love with baby Sky. As she looked at the infant, she connected with her. She realized that the baby needed her. She couldn’t eat unless Leah fed her; she couldn’t survive unless Leah allowed her. Everything in Skylar’s world depended on Leah. It was the purest relationship that Leah had ever had, and she loved it—loved the control.

Her face transformed from one of irritation to one of satisfaction. The only reason she even wanted Skylar was because YaYa did too. She always wanted what didn’t belong to her, and baby Sky was no exception. Leah was nuts in every sense of the word. If she couldn’t be with YaYa, then she wanted to be just like her. She was determined to strip YaYa of everything.

Skylar’s cries diminished as Leah rocked her back and forth. She had been hiding the baby in hotel rooms, closets, and the trunk of her car, but now she felt like she had approached things all wrong. Skylar was innocent, like Leah used to be. They belonged together.

“It’s okay. Shh…it’s okay. I’m not going to ever let anyone hurt you. They won’t hurt you the way that they hurt me, and they’ll never tear us apart. You’re such a pretty girl, Skylar. Daddy only likes the pretty girls. He would have liked you. He would have wanted you.”

On the outside, Leah looked like a gorgeous, fully functioning young woman, but on the inside, she was unstable. Her mental state had many shortcomings as a direct result of her childhood.

“Daddy only likes the pretty girls,” she repeated, mimicking the teachings of her own mother.

Her eyes held a far-away gaze as she rocked Skylar in her arms. It was then that she concluded that Skylar belonged with her. YaYa had always been selfish and didn’t deserve to be a mother.

“I’m going to take good care of you, Skylar. You have a new mommy now.”

When YaYa came to, she was drowsy from the sleep-inducing narcotic that the nurses had forced into her arm.

“Hmm,” she moaned as she turned her head to the side. When she tried to move, she realized that one of her hands was restrained on the bed railing. They thought she was crazy. Everyone thought she had lost it, but she knew the truth.

When she turned her head, she noticed the manila envelope sitting on the nightstand beside her bed. It was just out of her reach, and she stretched her free arm with all her might until she grabbed it. Her stomach sank when she flipped through the contents. Inside were pictures of Leah with Indie.

My Indie…my man,
she thought as jealousy, rage, and resentment filled her. There were photos of them living the good life together. Indie had indeed wifed her when he moved to Houston. He had unknowingly kept time with the same woman who had torn him and YaYa apart.

When YaYa got to the sonogram photo, she dropped the folder as if it were hot to the touch. A vacuum had sucked all of the air out of her lungs. She knew that Indie had gotten involved with someone else after he deserted her in New York, but for it to be Leah was a slap in the face. Logic told her that he didn’t know who he had gotten involved with, but emotion told her that she didn’t care.

Resentment and animosity consumed her as she thought of the intimate moments that Leah and Indie had shared. Leah now knew things about her man that YaYa felt only she should know. She knew how Indie liked to whisper sweet nothings in a woman’s ear while they fucked; she knew how thick he was, how long he was; she knew that the first thing Indie ate in the morning was always his woman. Quiet as it was kept, Leah just knew too fucking much, and YaYa hated her for it.

YaYa was crushed because these secrets were supposed to be hers, and now Indie had shared them with someone else—with Leah. She didn’t know why Leah had such a personal vendetta against her, but YaYa was tired of being the victim. Everywhere YaYa was, Leah wanted to be. Everyone she loved, Leah wanted for herself.

The bitch is in love with me or something,
she thought. Their relationship had turned hostile long ago, and YaYa was tired of running. She was sick of being the one waving white surrender flags. Last time they had beefed over sex, money, and men, Leah had won that battle, but this time, YaYa was fighting over her daughter, her flesh and blood. It was a war that she intended to win. She refused to concede defeat this time.

There were no limits when it came to what a mother would do on behalf of her child, and murder was on YaYa’s mind. An eye for an eye seemed like the only justice. There was no more forgiveness in YaYa’s heart. Leah would pay for the things she had done.

The head nurse came into the room wheeling the medicine cart. Usually YaYa looked forward to the prescription sleeping pill and the dose of Valium, but tonight she was on some brand new shit. That depressed look didn’t fit her. Now that she thought about it, she was upset with herself for becoming that girl—that woe-is-me drama queen. Yeah, her life was fucked five ways from Sunday, but she was in control of her own destiny. Leah had played the notes, but that didn’t mean that YaYa had to dance to her tune.

“Open up,” the nurse said.

YaYa opened her mouth and the nurse placed the two pills on her tongue and then handed YaYa a small paper cup filled with water.

“Let’s see it,” the nurse instructed.

YaYa opened her mouth and held out her tongue to prove that the pills were gone, and then watched as the old woman wheeled the cart to the next room. When the coast was clear, she spit the pills out of her mouth. Her gag reflex was too good to ever swallow anything she didn’t want to. She rolled the pills up in a piece of toilet tissue and stored them beneath her mattress. YaYa had given up when she had lost her daughter. She had let the misery take her mind and spirit away, but now that she knew who was responsible for her daughter’s misfortunes, she was motivated by revenge.