The Prada Plan 2: Leah's Story (9 page)

YaYa’s guilt caused her to completely forget the ransom note she had discovered.

“This is between us,” Mekhi stated trustingly.

She nodded gratefully as he squeezed her shoulder.

“Go get dressed, ma. We need to be getting back,” he said.

YaYa and Mekhi rushed back to the hospital. With no sleep, she was running on E, and she sluggishly forced herself to keep going. An eerie feeling passed over her, causing her heart to gallop in anticipation. Something in her bones felt wrong, and she wanted nothing more than to get back to Indie’s bedside.

I shouldn’t have left,
she thought.

“Khi, please hurry,” she said.

Fifteen minutes later, they were pulling up to the hospital and YaYa hopped out before the car even stopped moving. Anxious to get back to Indie, she almost ran through the halls, but when she got to his room, she stopped abruptly, noticing Agent Norris waiting outside the door.

“What are you doing here? Did you find my baby?” she asked, experiencing a brief glimmer of hope.

Norris stepped toward YaYa and shook his head. “Ugh, no. I umm…”

“Then why are you here?” she asked as she looked at him in suspicion and folded her arms across her chest defensively.

Agent Norris cleared his throat and stepped toward her as he looked around nervously. “Listen, Ms. Morgan. Your daughter is missing, and it’s your job to protect her. Do you love your daughter?”

YaYa frowned, insulted by the question. “Of course I do. What kind of question is that?”

“If you love her, then you will do the right thing here and help me.”

“Help you what?” YaYa asked.

“I know the type of business that your boyfriend in there is into. His dealings got him shot. They almost got you shot. and I believe your daughter was taken because of his connection to the streets as well,” Norris said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” YaYa replied sharply as she proceeded past him.

Agent Norris grabbed her elbow and pulled her close. “You can either help me get Indie, or you can go down with him as his accomplice. RICO laws can get me a conviction on anyone involved, even if you are only indirectly connected. You better think of what’s best for your daughter right now,” he warned, “because sooner or later he’ll get sloppy, and when that happens, I’m going to be there waiting with the silver bracelets.”

A part of her wanted to tell the federal agent about the ransom note she had received, but he obviously had a different agenda than she did. He was focused on the wrong person. He had deemed guilt on the wrong individual, and his mind was already set.

YaYa held the red ransom envelope in her hands, tightly gripping it as her words caught in her throat. She put it in her purse and shook her head, knowing that Norris couldn’t help her. He wasn’t the resolution to her problem. The only person that she could count on was herself. She had to ensure Skylar’s safety, which meant going alone.

At that moment, Mekhi came walking up. “Is everything okay?” he asked as she looked menacingly at Agent Norris.

YaYa snatched her arm back and replied, “Everything’s fine.” She turned to Norris. “If you would put as much energy into Skylar’s case as you are putting into Indie, she would be home by now. I’m not going to sit by and watch you piece together some bullshit case. I want you and all your fucking pig-ass friends out of my home.” She stormed past him with Mekhi on her heels as she resumed her place at the head of the bed.

“You guys can go now,” she said. “I’ll sit with him.” She wanted more than anything to be alone with him, to whisper in his ear that she would be there for him forever.

Mekhi and Chase stood to their feet. “No offense, but we not leaving until he wakes up. We’ll give you some privacy. We’ll be down the hall in the waiting room if you need us,” Chase said.

YaYa nodded her head as they left the room.

Hours of worry lulled YaYa to sleep, her head resting on the hospital bed while she held onto Indie’s hand. The lightest squeeze of her fingers aroused her from her sleep, and as she focused on Indie, she noticed that his eyelids were fluttering wildly.

“Indie, baby, it’s me. I’m here,” she whispered.

Indie’s heart rate increased at the sound of Disaya’s sweet nothings in his ear. She was bringing him back to life, making him want to ignore the shining light he had been ready to walk into.

“Open your eyes, Indie. Wake up. I need you more than ever right now,” she urged as grateful emotions made her voice crack. The place in his chest where he had been hit would have killed most men, but the love of a woman was keeping him breathing, was making living worth more than dying and retiring to grace.

Indie heard her, and the sweet melody of her voice was distracting him from the beautiful bright light that was beckoning him, enticing him to walk into it. He could decipher her voice clearly, and despite the fact that he wanted to, his body would not allow him to open his eyes. He was too weak, but he kept her sweet tone in his memory and used it as a guide to stay coherent. Unconscious he could handle, but dead he refused to be. There was no way he was leaving YaYa in the world alone—not yet, at least. He planned on being old and gray when it was his time to go. By then she would be able to handle it.

YaYa talked to Indie the entire night, and when his eyes finally opened the next morning, all she could do was smile. It took a while for clarity to return to his sight, but when it did, YaYa’s face was refreshing. Like a cold drink on a scalding summer day, she was what he needed.

He weakly cleared his throat as he attempted to speak. “Hey, beautiful,” he said.

YaYa laughed as she shook her head and touched his cheek gently. Even after being shot, his swagger was still out of this world.

“Hey yourself,” she responded, elated.

Indie’s hands searched his body until they found his bandaged chest. He grimaced in excruciating pain as his hands probed.

“Stop it, Indie. You’ll be okay,” YaYa soothed.

“Where’s Khi and Chase?” he asked. He was losing his strength as the pain medicine in his IV made him groggy. She wanted to tell him about the ransom note, but she knew that now was not the time. It was a burden that she would have to carry on her own for now.

“I’ll go get them,” she said with a weak smile as she hopped up and rushed to the waiting room. “He’s up. He’s awake!” she shouted. “He’s asking for the two of you.”

Chase and Mekhi rushed to the room as Trina and the girls engulfed YaYa in a supportive group hug. “We’ll stay out here. We don’t want to crowd him. Tell him we said we’re glad he’s up,” Miesha said.

YaYa nodded and then went back into Indie’s room. When she entered, all conversation stopped. Indie’s creased brow let her know that he was angry about something, but she didn’t ask, in fear that she may overstep her boundaries.

“YaYa, can you go grab the nurse for me? I’m in a lot of pain. See if they can give me something for it,” he instructed.

YaYa nodded her head, all the while knowing she was being sent on a dummy mission. Indie didn’t want her to hear the conversation he was indulged in. The less she knew, the better. She couldn’t tell what she did not know. It was his way of keeping her nose clean. She was simply the wife to a hustler, but she knew no details, so at the end of the day, she would always be deemed innocent.

Indie waited until he heard the hospital door click closed, and then he looked at Chase and Khi-P. “I want to be out of here as soon as possible. The sooner the doctors sign off on my release, the sooner I can get at that nigga Minnie. He brought heat to my home. YaYa could have been hurt. I’m done playing tit for tat with this mu’fucka,” Indie said. His voice was weak, but his tone lethal.

“You want me to just handle that for you? The nigga can disappear like a magic act. Poof!” Chase said, throwing his hands up as if he were really performing a trick. “You’re hit. You need your rest. You don’t got to put in your own work. That’s what you got soldiers for.”

Indie’s chest was on fire, and he knew that he was overexerting himself. He inhaled deeply as a sharp pain filled him. “I don’t need soldiers for this one, fam. You just bring him to me. The day that I’m out of here, I want to see this nigga in front of me. I’m not doing no more talking. I’m tired of yapping. These slow Southern-ass niggas ain’t hearing me. I’ma let my cannons bark until my baby girl is back home.”

Against the advice of his physicians, Indie checked himself out of the hospital the very next day. His legs barely worked, and he was forced to submit to a wheelchair, but he was determined to leave. Too much time had passed and there was too much to do. His daughter was still missing, and that was more important than his own injuries. The police had made no progress, and although the media was keeping the case alive, it did little to help. Everyone was starting to give up—everyone except YaYa and Indie.

When YaYa wasn’t at Indie’s bedside, she was out canvassing the neighborhoods, searching for Skylar, and passing out flyers. Calling in the authorities had been useless. Their presence only complicated things, and as she walked beside Indie, holding his hand as the nurse wheeled him outside, she felt hopeful that he would fix everything. Somebody had to, before she went insane.

When they emerged from the hospital, Chase was waiting in front of a black Lex coupe. The girls were parked behind him in a matching silver vehicle. He walked up to Indie and helped him to his feet as the two slowly embraced.

“Good to see you standing, fam,” Chase greeted.

Indie nodded his head and replied, “Feels good, man. Feels real good. Did you and Khi set that up for me?”

Chase nodded.

Indie turned to YaYa and kissed her forehead. “The girls are going to take you home. I’ll be there shortly. I have something to handle real quick,” Indie said.

“Indie…” she whispered as her eyes grew sad.

“I’m coming home, ma. Don’t worry yourself. Have dinner waiting for me when I get there.” He gave her a playful tap on her derriere, causing her to smile.

She folded her arms and watched him enter the car, and then Chase pulled away from the curb.

Indie sat back as Chase wheeled him into the warehouse. The single bulb that illuminated the space shone down on the man who was restrained in the middle of the room. He was untouched. He had no injuries, yet fear still burned in his gaze. He was alarmed. With his legs tied to a wooden chair and his hands bound tightly in front of him, he knew that the worst was yet to come.

When Indie had given the order to snatch him, it had been executed efficiently. The slip of a pillowcase over the head and a .45 to the neck was all it took to get him to oblige. Minnie had been sitting in the pitch black warehouse for the past two days, anticipating death. Khi-P had shown no mercy on the nigga either. Under no circumstances was he untied.

“Shit on yourself,” was the response when Minnie requested a bathroom.

“Eat a dick, you bitch-ass nigga,” Mekhi had told him when Minnie asked for food.

Like a newborn baby, Minnie’s life was in their hands, and until Indie was released from the hospital, he sat in limbo, wondering what would become of him.

Chase wheeled an injured Indie directly up to Minnie until the two men were sitting face to face.

When Minnie saw Indie’s face, he chuckled slightly as he shook his head from side to side. “Ol’ fuck nigga. I should’ve known. This is how you East Coast bitches do it, huh? Had to hire a pit bull from the South just to catch a nigga slipping?” he asked, referring to Mekhi doing his dirty work.

Indie looked at Chase and nodded his head. Chase walked over to Minnie and forcefully grabbed his wrists. He squeezed so tightly that Minnie opened his balled fists, giving Indie access to his fingers. Without second-guessing, Indie pulled out a box cutter and sliced off one of the digits. He wasn’t playing any games. The time for bullshit was about to come to an end. He didn’t have anything to prove. He wasn’t beefing for control of the streets or to floss for the hood. His every action at that point was on behalf of his daughter. He was done with the shoot-’em-out, bang-bang shit. He was ready to take it to the next level. Either Minnie told him where his daughter was, or it was lights out. He was fully prepared to execute the man in front of him if the answers he spoke weren’t to Indie’s liking.

“Aghh!” Minnie screamed in agony as blood spurted everywhere. His blood pressure dropped from the loss of blood, and he could feel the spot where his finger used to be as it throbbed. Slob dripped from his mouth as he grimaced uncontrollably.

“That’s for the bullet you put in me,” Indie said calmly. He saw Minnie’s eyes closing as his body attempted to fall into unconsciousness. Indie slapped his cheeks to revive him. “Yo, my man, wake the fuck up. We are far from finished, playboy.”

“You came at me first, my dude. You started the shit. I was just retal—”

Before Minnie could get the excuse out of his mouth, Indie had relieved him of another finger.

“Aghhh! Man, stop! Please!” Minnie hollered, his voice echoing off the walls as blood spurted everywhere. His shits was leaking like a bad engine.

Mekhi grimaced as he watched Indie mercilessly torture the dude, and he shot Chase a knowing glance.
This nigga ain’t bullshitting,
he thought as he shook his head at the gruesome sight.

“You lost that finger for pulling triggers at my family. Now you got eight left and ten toes. We can do this all night, or you can tell me what I want to know,” Indie threatened. He was so weak from being shot that he remained seated in his wheelchair. He didn’t need to loom over Minnie in order to intimidate him. Indie was an imminent threat; he didn’t have to do anything extra. He didn’t talk the life, he lived it, and Minnie was about to be the first example he set for all of Houston to see.

“You can have it all, man. All the ki’s, the money…I got two hundred thou in my safe. Take it. It’s yours. Just let me go,” he pleaded.

Indie shook his head in contempt. “You bitch up real fast. You the type who’ll sing like a canary if your back is ever against the wall. Pressure burst pipes,” Indie said.

“Please, man! You can have it all!” Indie chuckled arrogantly. “Nigga, I don’t want your little chump change and that bullshit-ass coca you selling. Shit been stepped on more than hardwood floors.”

“What do you want then?” Minnie asked desperately.

Indie motioned for the next finger, and Minnie broke down, crying like a baby.

Indie smirked because he had instilled enough fear. He had beaten his opponent mentally. Now it was information time.

“Where is my daughter?” he asked.

“W–what?” Minnie questioned, genuinely confused. That was the last question he had expected to come out of Indie’s mouth.

Indie’s patience was running thin, and he immediately clipped another finger.

“Aghh!”

“I didn’t fucking stutter, my nigga,” Indie said through clenched teeth. “Where is she?”

“I don’t know what you talking about! I swear on my mama, man. I don’t know,” Minnie groveled.

“You been gunning for me since we deaded young at the car show. All of a sudden my daughter comes up missing, and you saying you had nothing to do with it? I’m a logical man, my nigga, and your shit ain’t making sense to me. You made the wrong move. My family is off limits,” Indie stated as he cut off another finger.

“Aghh! Man, stop! Stop! I can’t take no more. I swear to God, man, I don’t got your daughter. I don’t know anything about it,” Minnie pleaded.

Chase and Khi-P looked at each other uncomfortably because it was painfully obvious that Minnie was telling the truth. With the torture that Indie was taking him through, he would have talked two fingers ago if he had any information to tell. Chase stepped up to Indie and bent down to whisper in his ear.

“Indie, if he knew anything, he would have told you by now. Maybe he’s not behind this,” Chase said logically.

Indie looked at the panting, bleeding man in front of him. He was falling in and out of consciousness. “If not him, then who?” Indie asked rhetorically, but his gut instinct told him that Chase was right.

He pulled a 9 mm handgun from his waistline and without flinching, he popped one into Minnie’s head. On impact, his dome exploded like a watermelon, sending brain matter flying onto Indie’s shirt.

“Fuck was that for?” Mekhi asked as he jumped from the unexpected blast.

“Had to put the nigga out of his misery. If I didn’t, he would have eventually come for me. I don’t let my beef cook for too long,” Indie replied.

He turned to Chase. “Take care of this for me?”

Chase nodded, knowing that by the time he was done, there would be no trace of a murder, and barely a trace that Minnie ever existed.

Agent Norris sat back smugly as the digital camera flashed repeatedly in his hand. He smiled, knowing that he had Indie exactly where he wanted him. He knew that a man with an ego as large as Indie’s would have to retaliate, and he was positive that the gunshot he had heard was connected to a murder. He had a hard-on for Indie.

Being assigned to Skylar’s kidnapping was the best thing that could have happened to him. Taking down a big city New York player like Indie would surely earn Agent Norris a promotion and national recognition. The kiddie crimes division didn’t hold enough prestige. If he couldn’t be a gangster, he wanted to catch them, and he would stop at nothing until Indie was under the jail.