Every Thug Needs A Lady (Thugs) (22 page)

She started hitting him. “You lied Trae! What about our baby? I won’t be an emotional wreck anymore. I’ll be a better wife,” she cried. She was desperate now saying whatever it took in an attempt to make him stay.

He went down the steps but had to stop because she came after him. “Baby please, get back inside with no clothes on.” He had to pick her up and carry her back into the house, laying her down on the couch.

Tasha felt dizzy so she just lay there. “You promised Trae. Something bad is going to happen.” She sat up as he opened the door. “Oh, God. I love you Trae. What am I going to do without you?”

“I gotta run Tasha, but I’ll be back.”

He left, running down the stairs and jumping into a minivan.

“Motherfuck!” Trae said as he looked in the rearview mirror to see if she had tried to follow him. Kay floored the gas pedal. “That was the hardest fuckin’ thing I ever had to do,” he said,

yanking the ashtray open, expecting to find something to smoke. “Where’s it at, man?”

“Look in the glove compartment. I told you not to say noth¬ing to her. You could have left instructions with your lawyer,” Kay told him.

“I couldn’t go out like that, dawg. I couldn’t do her like that. I had to make sure that she got everything she needs to take care of her and the baby for at least the next fifteen years. It’ll be longer for her, because she’s smart. She don’t go through money like it’s water.” He took several long drags on the blunt before passing it to Kay. “You didn’t see Red tonight?”

“Nah, this morning. She stayed at the crib. I’ve been stashin’ shit at her place since she don’t be there. So if we don’t make it back, she’ll see what I left her when she goes to her apartment.”

“Yeah, well let’s do this! Fucking pussies make it easy for you to get in the game but hard as hell to get out,” Trae sighed.

“Hell, yeah. You know what’s up. Do or die!”

Trae turned on the radio. He turned it up loud when he heard, “Come my lady, come, come my lady. You’re my butterfly, sugar baby.”

Kay started laughing. “Dawg, what you listenin’ to? That shit is wack! You seen them two ugly white boys who sing this?”

“Fuck you, man. This shit is on. Two white boys sing it but some black ones produced it, the Black-Eyed Peas, nigga. Look how much airplay they get on black radio. The beat is hot. And have you checked out the words? Nah, you ain’t checked them out, but they’re personal to me. That shit fit Tasha to the letter. When she cums, her legs get to shakin’ and that shit be feelin’ so good. And she be lookin’ all pretty and movin’ all smooth, just like a butterfly.”

Trae sat back, blocked Tasha out, and fixed his mind on the task at hand.

Tasha had been throwing up for the last five minutes. She barely managed to throw on something, pick up the keys to the Nav, and run out the door.

She pulled up to Jaz’s and Faheem’s not knowing how she got there. Her hair was all over her face, and she could barely see with her teary eyes. She jumped out the car, almost falling, ran up the steps, and banged on the door. Jaz was asleep, but Faheem was up watching TV.

“What the fuck?” he said when he heard the banging on the front door. When he opened it up, she collapsed in his arms, screaming and crying.

“Faheem, please, please go get Trae. I told him not to go. Faheem he promised me.” She was trying to pull Faheem outside to make him go get Trae. He had to pick her up and carry her back into the house. Jaz, awakened by Tasha’s screaming and hollering, came out the bedroom when she heard her.

“Faheem baby, what’s going on? What’s the matter with her?”

She saw that Tasha was standing there shaking and crying. “Go back to bed, baby,” he told Jaz. She couldn’t move. Wouldn’t move. “Jaz!” he hollered, “go in the room and shut the door! I’ll handle this.” She did as she was told.

“Go get him Faheem. Please. Tell him don’t go,” Tasha begged.

“Tasha you’re gonna have to calm down.”

“Faheem please!” she pleaded, pulling him towards the door. He picked her up, threw her over his shoulder, and took her into the spare bedroom.

“What am I going to do without him? Please go get him,” she cried. “I don’t want to live without him.”

“I’m not doing anything until you calm down. You need to calm down.” He tried soothing her, rocking her back and forth. He gave her two Tylenol then called Angel to come stay with her.

“He promised me Faheem. He promised he wouldn’t leave me. He’s my husband. Why is he doing this? Go get him now.”

He continued to rock her back and forth. “He’ll be back. Get some rest.”

She was dizzy and exhausted and kept mumbling over and over, “he needs to come back.” He held her until she finally fell asleep. Then he called Angel back to tell her not to bother. But she was already gone. He’d forgotten that Kay was with Trae and figured that Angel would probably be in a similar frame of mind as Tasha. He wet a washcloth, wiped her face, and covered her up before turning out the light and leaving the room.

When he went into the bedroom Jaz was sitting on the side of the bed crying. “Is she okay?”

“No, she’s not. What are you doing up? And stop crying. You don’t need to be gettin’ all excited and upset.”

“It’s too late.”

“What do you mean, it’s too late? Take your ass back to sleep.” “My water broke.”

“What?” He stared at her like she was crazy.

“It broke.”

“Fuck!” He paced the floor. “You got everything packed, right?”

She shook her head up and down.

“Okay. We gotta call the doctor, right?”

She shook her head up and down again. He paged her doctor. “Okay. What else? Are you in pain? Are you alright?” He was trying to remain calm, but acting like a first time soon-to-be-father.

“Just a few cramps, nothing major yet. We can wait for the doctor to call back.”

The doctor called back and he asked some routine questions and told Faheem to bring her in when the contractions were fif-teen minutes apart. Just as he hung up the phone, Tasha was screaming Faheem’s name. When he went into the bedroom, she was in the bathroom.

“Ma what’s the matter? I need you to calm it down.” “I’m bleeding, Faheem,” she cried.

“Shit!” Faheem went to dial 911. After he spoke to the dis-patcher, he called Kyra and Marvin answered the phone. “Yeah.”

“Marv, I need Kyra to meet me at the hospital.”

“What’s up, man?” He sat up, turning on the lamp and shaking Kyra.

“I’m in the fuckin’ twilight zone. That’s what’s up. My wife is in labor, and Tasha came over about an hour ago, screaming and crying because Trae is gone. And now she’s bleeding. Angel will be here any minute now, but she won’t be any help once she finds out that them two niggas are together.”

“Damn, man,” Marvin sympathized.

“I’m waiting on the ambulance now to take Tasha to the hospital, and I can’t leave Jaz here by herself. So I guess I’ll be taking both of them.”

“A’ight. Kyra will be there.” He hung up.

Faheem was right. When Angel got there and looked at Tasha, she started crying. As she followed them to the hospital, she started dialing Kay’s cell number and paging him. When he didn’t call her back, she started freaking.

Inside the hospital, she asked, “Faheem what’s going on? Somebody needs to tell me something.”

“I’m not sure. But if you ain’t gonna hold yourself together, I want you to go to the house.” He was shaking her. “A’ight?” “I’m scared Faheem.” She started crying.

“I’m calling you a cab and sending you to Marvin’s.”

On August 7, 2001, Tasha lost her baby. That same day, Jaz gave birth to an eight-pound, eleven-ounce girl. They named her Kaeerah Aaliyah. Faheem was so proud.

Angel pulled herself together and went over to Faheem’s to make sure everything was sanitized and ready for Jaz and the baby to come home. Kyra stayed at the hospital with Tasha, and Marvin kept baby Aisha.

They kept Tasha in the hospital to monitor her depression, then finally released her after six days. Angel and Kyra brought her home from the hospital. She was quiet during the entire ride. After taking her items out of the trunk and walking her upstairs, she apologized to them for being so distant.

Tasha looked at Angel and said, “You look like shit!”

“What do you expect? I’ve been living between your hospital room and Jaz’s guest room. I’ve been worried sick about you. I’ve been checking my voice mail, yours and Kay’s, but I haven’t heard shit. I haven’t been to your apartment or mines. I’m trying to get to my apartment either tonight or tomorrow.”

“This is so fucked up,” Tasha sighed. She was trying not to cry. “I’ll be okay. I need some time by myself. Can y’all please leave? I need to get myself together. I love you both, and as always, I couldn’t have gotten through this without y’all.” They both hugged her and respected her wish to be left alone.

As soon as they left, Tasha sank down on the couch and cried herself to sleep.

When she woke up it was almost 8:30 at night. She still had on her hospital bracelet. She cut it off and went to the bathroom to run some hot bath water. She soaked for a good half hour before getting out and throwing on some sweats and a T-shirt. She de-cided to clean the entire apartment, starting with the kitchen. The dishes from the last meal they had together were still in the dishwasher. When she got to her bedroom, she saw Trae’s clothes on the back of the love seat. She picked them up and buried her nose in his shirt for a whiff of his cologne. Her stomach knotted up as she held back the tears. Just then the doorbell rang, startling her. She went to the window, peeked out and saw Faheem’s Jag. She laid Trae’s clothes back down and went to open the door.

Faheem gave her a big hug and kissed her on the forehead. She burst into tears. “Everything’s gonna be fine, baby sis. Just watch.”

“Please God, I pray you’re right. I miss him so much and didn’t know how much I cared about him until now. Even his baby is gone.”

“He’s not gone. You just haven’t heard from him.” Faheem shut the door, and they went upstairs. When they got inside, he sat on the leather sofa while she went to blow her nose and wash her face.

When she came back into the living room Faheem had lit a blunt. Tasha went to the kitchen and brought back two bottles of water and an ashtray. “Damn! That smells good.”

“Baby sis, can a brother get a wine cooler or some soda? You bad as Jaz.”

She started laughing. “I don’t have anything else. Plus, this is better for you. Drink this up then I’ll get you some juice.” “Glad to see you’re smiling.”

“What do I do now? One minute he’s here, next minute he’s gone.”

Faheem took a long drag of the blunt and passed it to her. She took one drag and choked. They both started laughing.

“I needed this. Mind if I put on some music?”

“Please do,” Faheem joked. “What you got?”

“Trae had just dropped some CDs off. I don’t even think he opened them,” she said, thumbing through them. “Some are singles ...‘Let’s Get Dirty’ by Redman.”

“Let’s get dirty!” Faheem sang.

“Erick Sermon and Marvin Gaye.”

“Just like music!” Faheem continued to sing.

“Jagged Edge, featuring Nellie.”

“Where the party at?” Faheem sang.

“Busta Rhymes.”

“Busta, what it is right now!” He sang some more.

“A’ight, we straight,” she said, loading up the CD changer. She sat back down, and they puffed some more.

“The first thing you need to do is handle any unfinished business. I’m sure he left you some instructions in case of an emergency.”

“He left a business card for his business attorney and not a criminal attorney. I don’t understand that.” Then she went for the briefcase. “He said if I didn’t hear from him in a couple of days to go empty the safes and lockboxes.”

“What does he have, wall and floor safes?” She shook her head yes and watched as he thumbed through the contents of the briefcase. “Damn! He left you everything. You got your work cut out for you. You need to start on this first thing in the morning. If anything went down, the Feds have visited or will visit whatever house they think he had evidence in. If you need somebody to go with you, page me or Marvin.”

“Thanks Faheem.”

“We family.”

“Speaking of family, how’s my niece?”

“Your niece think she’s running shitjust like her mama.” Tasha burst out laughing. “That baby is going to be rotten.”

“Just like her mama!” They both said it at the same time and burst out laughing.

“Faheem, you silly! I’m so glad you came over. I was in a very serious state of depression.”

“I figured as much. Take care of your husband’s business. He worked very hard for all of that. Goes to show you that every thug definitely needs a lady, somebody that he loves and who loves him and will hold it down for him regardless,” he said, pointing at the briefcase.

Faheem drank the last of his water and stood up to leave. “Page me if you need me. Come lock the doors. And get some rest.”

“You sound just like Trae,” she said, laughing.

The next day Tasha got busy. Her first stop was Trae’s apartment in New York. When she arrived in the underground parking lot she spotted the vacant parking spots for both the

Range Rover and the Ferrari. The Navigator was still at Faheem’s.

When she got upstairs she noticed his door had been replaced with a new one. She turned the knob, and it was locked. That’s a good sign, she said to herself. But when she opened the door she almost fainted. It looked like a tornado had hit it. The place was ransacked. Everything was everywhere, literally. Everything that could be emptied was emptied. They even sliced up the Italian leather sofas and all of the speakers. Every room was torn up from the floor up. Everything of value was gone: stereos, big screens, computers, DVD players, exercise equipment, and appliances. They were courteous enough, however, to leave an itemized listing of everything they confiscated.

“Smart-ass bastards,” she spat, when she saw that the floor safe wasn’t touched. The carpet and desk were still intact. They took the chair, but not the desk. She slid the desk over and pulled up the carpet and the padding. After fumbling with the lock, she finally got it open and just shook her head.

“All of this fuckin’ money and he had to make one last run,” she said out loud. The tears started falling. She filled up two suitcases, then went to the wall safe and filled a duffel bag. “They think they’re so fuckin’ smart.”

She had never been to the two houses in Jersey. One was in his aunt’s name, and the other in his parents’. At the aunt’s house she emptied the safe, wrapped up everything in a blanket, and dragged it to the car. When she got to the other house, she used her cell phone to leave Angel a message to come see her that night. The Feds had cleaned out the house that was in his parents’ name. It wasn’t even locked. She had to call a locksmith. She was too exhausted to go to the Philly apartment. When she got home, she put all of the money in the empty apartment on her second floor.

When Angel came rushing through the front door, she headed straight for Tasha’s apartment. Angel couldn’t wait to tell her about the slew of documents, keys to vehicles and property, and money Kay left in her apartment. Then she broke down and cried.

“This was so stupid. What was he thinking? He’s not broke,” Angel whined.

“Please ... with the crying,” Tasha pleaded. “No more tears.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t help it. Why did I ever have to fuck with him? I’m jeopardizing my lawyer’s license. I could easily get a conspiracy charge. And you know my mother and my aunt Jan is enjoying the fact that they can say ‘I told you!’”

“Too late to be concerned with that, don’t you think?” Tasha asked her. “You done fucked the man. He turned your ass out. Now you might as well go with the flow.”

“Shut up! I hate it when you’re right,” Angel said, blowing her nose.

“Girl please. You know I’m just frontin’. How many times was that same damned speech thrown up in my face? Have you been to his house yet?” Tasha asked.

“I don’t want to go.” They were headed to the empty second floor apartment.

“You’re gonna have to. You might as well snap out of it and get it out of the way. It’s not going to be a pretty sight.” She showed her the document with the list of items seized at Trae’s apart-ment and showed her all of the money. “This ain’t even all of it. So when are you going to your man’s house?”

Angel slid down the wall and sat on the floor. “This shit ain’t happening.”

“Yes, it is. When are you going? Snap out of it, Angel.”

“I’ll go this weekend,” she said, rubbing her hands through her hair. “Do you think they’re okay?”

“No. They would have called by now. Let’s face it.” With that they both started crying.

Angel spent the weekend checking on Kay’s other property and collecting money. The headache was his recycling business and his record label. The Feds had shut them both down. She had planned on spending the weekend at his house. They couldn’t confiscate it, the family having owned it for over seventeen years. When she got there, she saw the mess the Feds had made of his place. They didn’t find the safes so she left everything in them.

Her aunt Jandelyn, the prosecutor, told her the Feds wouldn’t be back. So she decided to stay and go back to work Monday morning. She had planned to go furniture shopping Monday night because they tore up sofas and mattresses.

The only car that was confiscated was the Benz convertible. She didn’t know if Kay had it somewhere or if they took it, because it wasn’t on the list. The SUV and wagon were still parked.

Tasha had handled the last of her business. She checked out the apartment in Pennsylvania and was glad that it was untouched. She went back and took half the money out of her second floor apartment and brought it to the Pennsylvania apartment, which had several large safes.

The following week she went back to work full time at the hospital mainly to keep her mind occupied. That would be time spent not thinking about Trae. When she wasn’t working, she

was back and forth between Kyra’s and Jaz’s, spending time with the babies.

After two and a half months, they still hadn’t heard anything. Tasha had rented out one of the New Jersey properties and put the other one up for sale, all with the help of Trae’s business attorney. Angel had told her that whenever she or her contacts tried to find out anything on Kaylin Santos and Trae Macklin, they would come up with a clean slate. They were not listed as being in federal custody, which only mystified things even more.