Carl Weber Presents Ride or Die Chick 4 (11 page)

The trip back to Virginia was a quiet and awkward one. Treacherous and Baby rode in silence. They had only exchanged a few words once when they had stopped for gas. Baby still felt guilty about what had happened to them back in Miami, while Treacherous was preoccupied with contemplating their next move as he navigated their stolen SUV on the highway. Baby slept most of the ride back. Treacherous's mind was a million miles away as he floated up the highway. Occasionally, Baby would wake to check on him and to see where they were. Treacherous's mind was elsewhere. Each time she awoke, he had the same blank stare on his face.

The last place she remembered passing was exit 74 for Dunn, North Carolina, which was why she was surprised to see the Virginia state line sign. The SUV coasted on the interstate as the speedometer approached five miles over the normal 65mph speed limit. Treacherous had been putting some work in behind the wheel as he traveled in deep thought. An eerie feeling swept through Treacherous as he passed the overhead billboard displaying the state's red cardinal on a branch and reading V
IRGINIA
W
ELCOMES
Y
OU
. For the first time since they had left Miami, Treacherous reflected on the situation back at the South Beach hotel. The whole ordeal still left a bad taste in his mouth. He knew he had to shake it off.
What's done is done,
he told himself in order to cope with the loss. He focused more on the fact that Ghetto Governor was in a position to offer them a way to get back on their feet. Treacherous had no idea what the offer entailed, but he had already made his mind up that he was accepting it no matter what. He gripped the steering wheel tighter as he stared at the speed on the SUV's dashboard. He hadn't realized he had been going so fast.

Baby had gotten a funny feeling of her own. She dreaded being back in Virginia. Despite how their trip had ended, Baby would take Miami over Virginia any day. But even if she had wanted to stay she knew she couldn't. Now that they were broke they had to return to Virginia. On what terms, was the million dollar question she wondered. They were wanted in Virginia and although they had been lucky so far, she knew the risk they were taking. It seemed like every time she closed her eyes, images of what had led to her being a fugitive from justice invaded her head. She was all too glad to be free, but at what cost, was what weighed heavy and the most on her heart. Distant memories skipped through her mind. As images of her life flashed before her eyes, Baby couldn't help but appreciate her right-hand and crime partner. Either way, no matter what he wanted to do, Baby had made up her mind that she was riding out. Occasionally, she peered over at Treacherous. Her heart warmed with each glance at him. She smiled at scenes that played in her head of her and Treacherous.
I love this man.
She smiled within.

Treacherous could feel Baby staring at him. His eyes shifted from the road over to her and back to the road. “What's wrong?” he asked with concern in his tone.

“Nothing.” Another smile appeared across Baby's face. She loved the way his voice always made her feel. It sent chills through her entire body and made her feel safe.

Treacherous glanced back over at her for a second time. He was just in time to catch the end of her smile. It made him grin. He reached over and grabbed hold of Baby's hand. “I love you.” He took Baby's hand and raised it up to his mouth. He kissed the back of it and winked at Baby before directing his attention back on the highway.

“I love you more,” Baby rebutted.

Treacherous chuckled. The tension and awkwardness that once filled the air was now replaced with love and laughter.

The playful exchange relaxed Baby. She closed her eyes and dozed back off. Treacherous looked over at her. A huge grin was plastered across Baby's face as she slipped back into a light sleep.

He couldn't help but smile as he switched lanes. He knew his Baby was back to normal.

Treacherous veered off onto the exit. Moments later, he was cruising down the back road of the quiet neighborhood they had recently moved into. Treacherous pulled into the driveway of their place and threw the SUV into park. He had told himself he was going to get rid of the stolen vehicle as soon as they got back into the area, but, out of nowhere, exhaustion overcame him.

Treacherous rotated his neck from side to side, extended his arms, and yawned. You could hear his muscles popping and his bones cracking. He had just released 800 and some-odd miles' worth of tension as he stretched. He began to brush the back of his head with his hand as he continued to rotate his neck.

Baby massaged the back part of her neck and right shoulder. It had stiffened from the way she had been positioned in the passenger seat during her nap sessions the whole ride home. She looked over at Treacherous. She could tell he was sleepy. He always rubbed the back of his head like that when he was tired. She smiled lovingly. She had first noticed it when they were in the mental institution, and she thought it to be funny in a cute way. Aside from that, he had just driven them the entire way back from Miami, so it was only right that he be tired. By now, Treacherous was leaned over on the steering wheel holding the bridge of his nose. Baby thought he had dozed off for a second.

“You want me to get rid of the truck, so you can go in and get some rest?” Baby suggested. She knew they'd have a full plate when the sun came up.

Treacherous shook his head. “Nah, we can dump it in the morning before we hook up with Ghetto Gov. We both need our rest. We both gotta be on our A game,” he told her.

Baby nodded in agreement.

“I don't know what he got for us, but, whatever it is, I want us to be ready to handle it,” Treacherous added.

“Okay, let's go in the house.” She was the first to exit the vehicle. She dragged herself to the front door while Treacherous struggled to get out of the SUV. He snatched up the duffle bag containing the casino chips from the back seat. Between being tired and the weight of the duffle bag, Treacherous had to use what little strength he had to lug himself and the duffle to the front door. His trap muscles were on fire from toting the duffle and his eyes were so heavy he was having trouble keeping them open. Without realizing it, he had dozed off. Which was why he hadn't noticed Baby backpedaling until he ran into her. The look on her face woke him up.

“Get back in the truck.” Her voice was a tone higher than a whisper. Treacherous didn't ask any questions. Her facial expression was enough to let him know that something wasn't right. Baby's wide eyes and tight lips as she spoke alarmed him. He looked left then right in rapid succession while backpedaling to the SUV. Seconds later, he was backing out of their driveway and zooming back in the direction from which they came.

“What was wrong?” Treacherous asked Baby. She still had the same look on her face as she did at the house.

“The front door was cracked,” she announced. “Someone's been in the house.”

Treacherous's facial expression now matched Baby's. “How?”

“I don't know.” Baby shook her head. It never crossed her mind that they could possibly be coming back to VA with more drama at their doorstep so soon.

Treacherous pulled out his phone. He hooked a sharp right up the street intended for the highway. Luckily he made a right instead of a left. Had he chosen the opposite direction, he would have been likely spotted by the two Irish henchmen who had trashed their home earlier and were told to return to the house and wait.

Ghetto Governor answered on the first ring. Treacherous went straight in as to the nature of his calling so late.

“There's been a change of plans,” he started out with. “We're coming to you now,” Treacherous ended. He knew there was no time to waste at that point. He didn't even give Ghetto Governor a chance to respond. Instead, he hung up. Then he pressed down on the circle on his iPhone 6S and commanded Siri to pull up the directions to Ghetto Governor's house.

“Who is it?” Sammy Black Jr. barked as he made his way down the spiral staircase of his condo. He grimaced at the muffled response from the opposite side of the door. Sammy slid the chain off the latch, then unlocked the bottom and top locks of his condo door. He snatched the door open in an irritated manner.

“What can I do for you gentlemen?” Sammy Black Jr. asked in a sarcastic tone.

Arthur Love and Andre Randle looked at each other and then back at Sammy Black Jr. “Mr. Black, I'm Detective Love from the Richmond PD and this is Chief Randle of the Norfolk PD,” Arthur Love introduced them, embellishing Andre Randle's title. Both men flashed badges.

Sammy knew these were the cops Neiko Bellini had warned him about. He released a deep sigh and rolled his eyes. “Okay, what's this all about?” he asked.

“May we please come in?” Love asked. “We have a few questions to ask you regarding a homicide investigation in connection with the death of your father,” he informed him.

Sammy Black Jr. let out a light chuckle. “Did you catch the pieces of shit who killed him?” Sammy Black Jr. asked already knowing the answer. His statement was more of a jab at Arthur Love. He could tell he caught it based on the knot on the side of his left cheek indicating clenched jaws. He knew Arthur Love's daughter was one of the ones responsible for his father's demise.

“No, not yet.” Love kept his composure.

“Well then, we have nothing to talk about.” Sammy Black Jr. started closing the door.

Andre Randle stuck his foot in the doorway to prevent the door from closing. “If we can just get a minute of your time . . .” he tried to reason with Sammy Black Jr.

Sammy looked down at his foot then back up at him. A sinister grin appeared across his face. “What I will do is give you one minute to move your foot,” he rebutted sternly but calmly.

“So, you're not at all interested in wanting to find out what we've found out?” Randle stared at Sammy Black.

Sammy met his stare. “No,” he abruptly shot back. “Let me know when you've apprehended them. Now, your minute is almost up,” he reminded him about his foot blocking his door.

“Thirty-three, thirty-two,” Randle began to count down out loud. He didn't take too kindly to threats. Especially from thugs posing as businessmen.

Sammy's eyes grew cold, but he never broke his stare.
The nerve of this nigger.
He was already calculating his next move in case he didn't move his foot and felt froggy and wanted to leap. He made one last attempt to get the officer to move his foot from his doorway.

“If you don't have any information about my father's killers or have a warrant for my arrest, then I strongly suggest you both get the hell off of my property! Now!” Sammy Black spat in a disrespectful tone.

That was all Randle could take. He already envisioned grabbing Sammy Black Jr. by the throat and shaking him like a rag doll until he stopped breathing. The one thing he did not tolerate was disrespect and Sammy Black had crossed that line.

Arthur Love could feel the tension between him and his partner. He could see in Andre Randle's face that he was on the verge of doing something he knew he'd later regret.

“Come on, partner.” Love tapped Randle on the shoulder. He motioned to him with his head for them to leave. The last thing he wanted was for him and Sammy Black Jr. to get into a physical altercation. Neither of them seemed to be backing down from the other.

Randle stared at Sammy Black Jr. for a few more seconds. He then let out a light chuckle before making an about face. Love let out a sigh of relief. He knew he'd have a hard time explaining if something jumped off between the two. He made his way down Sammy Black Jr.'s ramp. Andre Randle followed.

Sammy Black made an attempt to close his condo door for a second time.

“Oh, one more thing?” Randle spun around. “You wouldn't happen to know anything about a young Irish kid getting killed at a motel would you?”

“Go fuck yourself!” he replied then slammed the door behind them.

“Didn't think so.” Randle chuckled again. Arthur Love shook his head.

Sammy Black Jr. watched from the side window as the two cops made their way back to their vehicle. Once the car pulled off, he pulled out his phone.

“What in the hell got into you back there? You could've jeopardized the case,” Arthur Love pointed out, getting in the driver's seat. He couldn't wait to get his partner alone to tear into him.

“Fuck that scum bag!” Randle boomed. “My gut is telling me that that asshole was expecting us.”

Arthur Love felt the same way as Randle, but they were in two different positions. Andre Randle was no longer a police officer. Arthur Love was. He knew he had a responsibility to uphold the law at all costs and couldn't handle matters from a personal perspective. It was bad enough he was not supposed to be taking Randle with him on any investigations. But they had started this together and that's how he intended to finish it.

“Let it go,” he told Randle. “He knows we're on to him. Maybe he'll call off his dogs and let us do our job now.” Arthur Love was hopeful.

“Yeah, maybe,” he dryly replied. “But I doubt it.”

Arthur Love put the Impala in reverse and backed out of Sammy Black Jr.'s driveway.

At the same time, the caller on the other end of Sammy Black Jr.'s phone picked up. “Yeah, those two fucking detectives you told me about just left my damn house!” Sammy had become angry all over again from the brief brush with the two detectives. “We need to talk, and not over the phone, so I suggest you wake the hell up and get over here!” he demanded before hanging up and tossing his phone up against the wall.