The Prada Plan 2: Leah's Story (15 page)

The bitch thinks this shit is a wrap. She got me all the way fucked up,
YaYa thought.

“It’s far from over.” It was a threat that had been made once before, but this time she meant it. There was nothing that could stop her from following through. It wasn’t over until YaYa ended it, and for her, the beef was just beginning to simmer.

YaYa was on her best behavior from that moment forward. Instead of slipping into a deeper depression, she was rebounding from it. She opened up to her therapist and told the woman everything she wanted to hear. She was antsy, and would have said anything to get out of the hospital.

Her mind was no longer clouded with pain. It was fueled by anger. She was about to get back at those who had ruined her life, and even though she loved him, it was time for Indie to be cut out of her heart. She couldn’t get past the dealings he had with Leah. She couldn’t fault him because she had never disclosed Leah’s identity to him, but she couldn’t erase the images of them together. It was unforgettable.

The late night therapy sessions with her doctor were her way out. The dedicated woman always made sure to be accessible to her patients twenty-four hours a day, and YaYa knew that this routine would work to her advantage. It was the only time when the security staff wasn’t on guard, and only one nurse monitored the floor. All YaYa needed was the doctor’s ID badge to unlock the secured doors and she would be home free.

She waited for days until the right moment presented itself for her to make her escape. As she sat in front of the therapist, all she could think of was riding off into the night and never looking back.

“Disaya, I see you’ve been doing your journal writing,” the doctor said. “Does that outlet help you to deal with your daughter’s death?”

YaYa looked at Dr. Samuels and responded, “Yes, it helps a lot. I have somewhere to put my emotions now. I can let them be free in my journal without anyone judging me.” She was giving the good doctor a whole bowl of nothing. Her generic, cookie-cutter answers were right up the doctor’s alley. YaYa only wrote in the journal to show that she was making progress. The sooner that she could convince the hospital that she was no longer a danger to herself, the sooner they would release her. She had no intentions of killing herself anymore. There was only one person who she posed a threat to.

YaYa talked about everything that she could think of, and Dr. Samuels was amazed at her sudden willingness to talk about her life. YaYa was candid in her descriptions of her childhood, leaving out nothing. Her story was one for the street fiction books, and the little old black lady could not fathom it. She was enthralled in it all as she jotted down notes, scribbling her thoughts and anecdotes for YaYa.

YaYa ran her mouth until the 11
P.M
. shift change occurred. It was then that she knew she could slip out unnoticed.

“I wish I had opened up to you sooner, Dr. Samuels. I feel like I’m ten pounds lighter, getting all of this off my chest. I have so much more to say,” she said. “I don’t want you to get tired of me, though.”

“As long as you’d like to talk, I’d like to listen, Disaya,” the doctor replied.

“Can I have some coffee first?” YaYa asked innocently.

Dr. Samuels was so thrilled with her patient’s new forthcoming attitude that she stood up to retrieve the coffee herself. When she returned, she set a cup in front of YaYa and one in front of herself.

YaYa smiled as she held the tissue square that had twelve Valium pills crushed inside. She had crushed them up so fine that it resembled blow. All she had to do was slip it into the doctor’s drink. All it took was a phone call to distract the old woman.

“I’m going to step outside and take this call. I will be back shortly, Disaya,” Dr. Samuels said.

As soon as the door clicked shut, YaYa emptied the contents into the Styrofoam cup. She quickly mixed it with her finger and sat back in her seat.

After the doctor came back, YaYa anxiously watched the minutes tick by. Time moved excruciatingly slow, almost as if it were standing still.

They should be working by now,
she thought as she tapped her foot impatiently.
I’m running out of stories to tell.

As the clock struck eleven, YaYa began to notice the drowsy side effects of the drug. In mid-sentence, Dr. Samuels dozed off and leaned into her desk as a drug-induced sleep took over.

YaYa stood and sprang into action, first grabbing her ID badge and then searching for her car keys. “Got ’em,” she whispered when she saw the Lexus keychain.

She peered cautiously out of the office door and saw the nurse manning her station. She walked over to the nurse and smiled. “Hi. Dr. Samuels told me to ask if you could brew us a fresh pot of coffee. Our session is running kind of long, but we are making good progress,” YaYa said, selling the lie with expertise.

The nurse sighed and mumbled complaints beneath her breath as she got up and walked down the hall to complete the task. YaYa walked as quickly as possible toward the exit. Everything in her wanted to run, but she knew that she had to keep a low profile.

She used the doctor’s hospital barcode to unlock the security door and then took the elevator to the lobby of the hospital. It was Saturday night, so the hospital was more crowded than usual. All of the gunshot victims from the local clubs were in the ER, and YaYa blended in as she made her way outside.

The fresh air felt so good on her skin. She inhaled deeply, loving the smell of anything other than the sanitary scent inside the hospital. YaYa didn’t know which car belonged to Dr. Samuels. There were too many foreign cars in the lot to pick one out of the crowd. She ran around the employee lot hitting the alarm button.

“Come on…come on. I don’t have time for this shit,” she muttered as she kept hitting the unlock button on Dr. Samuels’ alarm. Finally she heard the noise she wanted to hear.

BEEP! BEEP!

The headlights to the doctor’s navy Lex flashed on and off. YaYa quickly hopped inside and sped out of the lot. By the time anyone noticed she was gone, the car would be ditched and she would be on the other side of town.

YaYa drove twenty miles away from the hospital before ditching it on the side of a dark road. She walked to a gas station on the corner and collect-called Khi-P, but received no answer. She knew that he would help her. She didn’t have any money or anywhere else to go.

Her nerves were shot as she stood in front of the station. She knew she looked hot. She was still wearing the hospital gown and paper shoes that were issued to her. She had to get out of sight before someone called the police on her.

She wanted to catch a cab, but she knew that none would stop for her with the way that she looked, so she began the long hike to Mekhi’s side of town.

Hours later, she sat in the rain. The Southern heat mixed with the crying sky made it feel as if she were sitting inside a sauna. Khi-P wasn’t home, and she had waited for hours on his front porch, hoping that he would arrive soon.

She wrapped her arms around her body as the thin fabric of the wet gown clung to her. As the time crept slowly by, she grew impatient. She went to the street and looked both ways as she silently urged Khi-P to come home. When she didn’t see his car, she decided enough was enough.

She walked around to the back of his house, determined to get out of the rain. YaYa looked to make sure no nosy neighbors were watching, and she broke the glass to his back door with her elbow. She reached in and unlocked the door before stepping inside.

It was two o’clock in the morning. Making herself comfortable in his living room, she dozed off as her impatience turned to exhaustion.

It wasn’t until YaYa heard the moans of passion coming from upstairs that she awoke from her slumber. She looked around and noticed that Mekhi’s keys were strewn across the dining table. She didn’t want to interrupt his fuck fest. She was sure that he was smashing one of his many groupie broads, and YaYa wasn’t trying to block.

The sounds drew her toward his bedroom like a magnet as she crept down the hall, the plush carpet sinking under the weight of her body. His bedroom door was open, and YaYa froze in amazement when she saw him. His naked body was beautiful, and her breath caught in her throat as she admired his toned back. His muscular buttocks contracted as he dipped in and out of the set of legs that were wrapped about his waist. He was putting his thing down, and as he grinded in and out, slowly working over his prey, the special box between her legs grew wet with jealousy. Her clit throbbed as she spied on the sex scene. Her mind told her to give them privacy, but her treasure chest overflowed with wetness and urged her to stay.

The satisfied moans of the girl beneath him only proved what she suspected—Khi-P’s fuck game was out of this world. It had been so long. She had been wrapped up in all of the chaos that corrupted her life. She needed to release. An orgasm was just what was needed, and as her hands developed a mind of their own, she didn’t protest. She rolled her nipple in one hand and found her clit with the other.

She was so slick that her fingers slid effortlessly as she fondled herself. Her love button grew more stiff with each stroke she gave it, mashing it as she clenched her thighs together, rubbing it gently, twisting it slightly. She closed her eyes and imagined that it was Indie working her over that way, and when she opened her eyes, she noticed that they were about to change positions.

She was almost ready to explode, but if she stood there a minute longer, Khi-P would surely bust her. She ducked to the side of the door frame before she was caught, and breathed deeply as she pulled her hand from her panties. She was slightly annoyed that she didn’t get hers, and decided that they wouldn’t get theirs either.

She boldly knocked on the bedroom door, startling Mekhi and his guest.

“Shit!” Khi-P shouted as he withdrew from the young lady. “YaYa? What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked in confusion as he scrambled out of the bed.

YaYa’s eyes dropped to his manhood, surprised by its size. Chocolate, thick, and long, he looked good enough to eat—like her favorite candy bar. The freak in his bed was on all fours and didn’t even make an effort to move. She lifted her head, rolled her eyes at YaYa, and moaned, “Put it back in, Daddy.”

YaYa crossed her arms and cocked a hip. “Get rid of the bitch, Khi…like yesterday.”

“Bitch? I got your—”

Khi-P shook his head and threw the girl’s clothes at her face to shut her up. “Nah, baby girl. You don’t want to do that,” he said, referring to disrespecting YaYa.

“You barking up the wrong tree. Get your shit. I’ll put you in a cab.”

“A cab?” The young lady frowned.

“Yeah, bitch, a cab,” YaYa shot back, sounding a little bit too pissed considering that the dick in the room didn’t belong to her.

The girl looked at Khi-P, but he already had the cab fare held out for her.

“Fuck you. Dick wasn’t all that anyway!” she shouted as she threw on her clothes and stormed out.

Liar,
YaYa thought. She couldn’t help but to crack a smile.

“You foul, ma. You could have let a nigga get his shit off first,” Khi-P said as he smiled back. He took his time wrapping a towel around his waist. “What are you even doing here anyway? How you get out?” Before she could even answer, he held up his hand and said, “Let me get this bitch’s stink off of me.”

Mekhi was still brick, and his dick imprint was showing through the fabric of the towel. YaYa forced herself to look away as he walked into his adjoining master bath. She heard him turn on the shower.

“Now, how did you get out?” he yelled.

YaYa walked to the bed and sat on the edge then responded, “I put Valium in my doctor’s coffee and bounced as soon as her head hit the desk.”

Mekhi let out a hearty laugh as he washed his body. YaYa walked toward the bathroom door and peered inside. His shower door was made of crushed glass, so she didn’t have a clear view of him, but she watched his blurry form as he scrubbed his back and arms, then washed his long pole. She held her breath as he began to stroke his penis, trying to relieve himself of his hard-on. His rhythm was slow but powerful. She watched his head fall back on his shoulders. She heard a low grunt, and she creamed in her panties right there on the spot. She tiptoed back to his bed just as he turned off his shower.

“What happened, ma? You wouldn’t be here unless something was up,” Mekhi said.

Remembering why she had come, she said, “I know who killed Sky.”

“What? Who?” he asked.

“There’s this bitch named Leah—”

Khi-P sighed when he heard the name. He knew of Indie’s relationship with Leah and assumed that YaYa was bugging from jealousy. “It’s his baby’s ma, YaYa. No more, no less. She don’t mean what you mean to him,” he tried to explain.

“I know what you’re thinking, Mekhi, but just listen to me, please. I’m not crazy. Leah isn’t who you think she is. We were into some foul shit together back in New York. She followed Indie here. The only reason she even fucked with Indie was to get to me,” she explained.

“You’re not making sense, YaYa. Why would she take Skylar? I’ve met the bitch. She don’t seem crazy, just a regular broad,” Khi-P reasoned.

“The same reason she had for killing Indie’s brother, and the same reason she had for coming to visit me in the hospital,” YaYa said. “She lives to fuck up my world, but I’m tired of it. I’m tired of running, and I’m tired of her winning.”

“She came to see you?” he asked.

YaYa nodded. “And the bitch was talking real slick, too, about my daughter. She took her, Mekhi. She took her away from me.”

“Have you spoken to Indie about it?” Khi-P asked.

“I don’t even want to speak to him. He should have never gotten any girl pregnant down here. But just the fact that it’s her makes me hate him,” she whispered. “I need your help, Khi. Everybody else thinks I’m crazy.”

Khi-P looked at her sincerely. “What you need from me, ma? Just tell me what you want to do.”

“I want to dead this bitch,” she answered.

His eyebrows rose in concern. He knew what it took to take a life. “Are you sure you wanna handle it this way?”

YaYa nodded as she thought of her little girl. “She’s taken too much from me for it to be handled any other way.”

Shocked that YaYa could even be so ruthless, Khi-P didn’t respond. If that was what she wanted, he was more than capable of making it happen. Now that Indie was locked up, Khi-P was the next in line to be crowned king. He had a crazy good squad behind him.