Fast Life (27 page)

She turned her attention to the window as the pounding rain smacked against the glass, and listened to the distant rumble of thunder. She wasn't happy that the storm had woken her up, considering she had only fallen asleep four hours ago.

She rolled over, fetched the remote from Makai's nightstand, and clicked on the television. Its bright light illuminated the dark room. It was only six in the morning.

Kyra was irritable as she clicked though channel after channel of infomercials and workout programs. The news was once again the only thing that held her interest.

After about half an hour of traffic reports, stock exchange updates, a weather forecast and sports recaps, Kyra was just about to push the Off button when she paused. A breaking news story was just hitting the air.

She leaned forward and turned up the volume in fascination as the reporter began to relay the juicy information.

“I'm Karen Lee, and I'm here live on the north side of Chicago in a quiet suburban community where last night a horrific crime took place. Shots rang out from what witnesses say was a black SUV. The victims: a young mother and her daughter,” the woman reported in a yellow slicker. She was standing in front of a house blocked off with yellow crime scene tape as the rain poured. “The mother, eighteen-year-old Mercedes Alvarez, is currently in the hospital and in critical condition after being struck twice. Tragically her infant daughter, Lauren Mills, was fatally wounded and pronounced dead on arrival at Children's Memorial Hospital. She was only one year old.” She paused to give a more dramatic effect to the story before she went on, “The two were believed to have been enjoying a quiet evening at home when suddenly the lights went out and bullets went flying. You can see here that the telephone line, as well as the power lines, have been severed. This is believed to have been a planned homicide.” The reporter pointed out the cut wires dangling from a metal box on the side of the house. “Police say they have no leads or suspects in the case, but it is believed to be another crime in connection with a shooting that occurred months back in a local nightclub. Reggie Mills, who is reported to have lived in the home and has been identified as the father of the young girl, was not home at the time of the shooting. His whereabouts are currently unknown, but he is believed to have been somehow involved with the shooting at the nightclub Bahama Breeze back in mid-July. Mills has been linked to drug activity within the city and is wanted on several warrants. If you have any information on who may have committed this gruesome crime, please give us a call at 312-555-8019. Back to you, John.”

A picture of a smiling Lauren was put up on the screen with the phone number. Kyra felt sad for the little girl. She was so young, and she was adorable. Kyra felt a wave of guilt wash over her even through her bitterness for Mercedes's past actions. She knew the information they asked for. She knew who did it, and yet she had no choice but to sit by and do nothing. There was no way she would snitch. Her lips were sealed.

Kyra jumped at the company of Makai, who without a noise had entered the bedroom. She hadn't even heard him come into the room.

“Hey,” he whispered as he held his position by the door.

“Hey.”

“Whatchu doin' up?”

“The storm…” She looked over to the window to avoid his stare.

“Oh.” He then paused for a minute. “I'll be in soon. You should go back to sleep,” Makai softly advised as he walked off down the hall to the bathroom.

Kyra lay in bed thinking as she listened to the rushing water coming from the shower down the hall. The incident last night reminded Kyra of something: if it weren't for her father jumping in front of her all those years ago at the picnic, she would have died just like Lauren. He had made the ultimate sacrifice and willingly given his own life for hers.

 

For the next few days, Makai kept himself holed up in the house. He spent his days drinking bottle after bottle of beer and liquor and doing an assortment of drugs. Kyra was worried that the mix of narcotics and alcohol would leave him on edge. She expected the beatings to get worse and to be dished out more frequently, but instead they stopped completely. Between his mourning and being wasted, Makai was quiet and mellow. Even though he was there, Kyra felt as though she were there alone.

The mix of illegal substances and booze often left him passed out for hours at a time, giving Kyra many opportunities to sneak out. The risk was as high as ever, but she took it time after time, and most importantly, she got away with it. She was slick. The chances of getting caught seemed to be slim to none.

Nothing is ever as it seems.

 

“Mom?” Justin pressed his ear to the pay phone on the loud Chicago avenue. For the first time in weeks, he was contacting home. His funds were running low and he was in desperate need of assistance. An uninterrupted hour of deliberation had gone into making this call.

“What on earth? Where are you? What have you been? I have been so worried…. What is all that noise…? Henry no…” The loving voice of his mother shakily rattled off question after question before her husband wrenched the phone from her hands.

“Justin? This is your father speaking.” His voice was still at its usual Barry White-like volume, but his son could feel the heat of his temper thousands of miles away.

“Dad, listen…I…I need your help with something….” Justin checked each side of him on the sidewalk. He wanted to make sure no one on the street could hear his conversation.

“Help? You want my help? With what? Money? I knew you would call once you ran out of money.”

“So it was you who froze my accounts?” His question came after a trip to an ATM machine and his inability to withdraw any cash.

“That's right, and your credit cards, too.”

“Dad! What the…” He bit down on his lip in anger. He ran his free hand over the waves in his hair out of disappointment as he took another look around the street. He knew Kyra was growing antsy back at the hotel room they'd rented for the day.

“Don't think you're going to go running off with that little foreign girl and think I'm bankrolling you! You wanted to act like you're such a man, now be one!”

“Look, I'm coming home, I just need more time….”

“You are not setting foot in this house! Do you hear me? No son of mine—”

Justin was furious as he slammed the phone down, silencing his father's fit. It hung from its metallic wire, and a busy signal could be heard. Justin pushed on with determination as a chilling wind of an abnormally cool summer day infiltrated his baggy T-shirt. He needed to make a move, and soon. He needed a plan and he needed assistance. He was surely cut out of the inheritance and disowned, and he would soon be homeless if he didn't figure out new living arrangements. He had to leave Chicago, but he had to have Kyra by his side. He would not lose her again for anyone. Not even his family.

 

Justin returned to the three-star hotel to see Kyra sprawled across one of queen-sized beds in nothing but her underwear, watching basic cable TV. She tore into a grape Laffy Taffy as she greeted him from a bed covered with candy wrappers.

“Hey, babe, did you get in touch with your parents?”

“Yeah…”

“And? What'd they say? Are they gonna send you some money?”

“No.”

“So how are we gonna leave Chicago by Sunday?” She was dumbfounded by his reaction. She perched herself on her knees in the middle of the bed as she racked her brain for solution. They had spent hours that afternoon planning the details of their escape. They were going to start a new life in California and lie low until things died down and they were sure Makai wasn't looking for them anymore.

“I have no idea—”

 

It was a Friday night when Kyra came through the door of the apartment with several plastic bags of groceries. Shopping was one of the excuses, from her list of them. She always managed to scheme up something to cover up her whereabouts, and as long as she came back with something to smoke or drink Makai didn't seem to care.

“Hey, baby.” She greeted Makai with a fake giddy voice as she noticed him awake and sitting in the dimly lit living room. She set the bags on the kitchen counter before returning.

“Baby, why you sittin' here in the dark?” she asked as she flicked on the other black floor lamp.

He didn't give any kind of response as he sat on the couch. His eyes freakishly seemed to be the only things that moved.

“What's all this?” She picked up one of the overturned photos and papers that swamped the center table. She hadn't noticed them in the dark.

Her body froze as she studied the Polaroid in her hands. A lump formed in her throat as she gazed at the photo of her and Justin leaving the Econo Lodge. She was caught in the act, and this time there was no excuse she could make to cover it up.

She set the picture down and looked at another photo, and another. Each colorless picture was of her and Justin going in and coming out of the hotels they visited for their trysts.

She was dismayed. She never thought Makai would go so far as to have a private detective follow her. She assumed that her bodyguards had been her only obstacles.

Kyra couldn't help feeling foolish as she stood there remembering how she thought she had pulled it all off. She should have known it couldn't be that easy.

“I have everywhere, baby girl. The Sutton is a nice place. Never stayed there, though.” His remark was casual, but he subtly revealed that he knew where Justin was.

Kyra tossed the last photograph to the side and stood firmly as he rose to his feet. She knew what she had coming, but she wasn't scared. She wanted to make sure that he saw that and that he recognized it.

“Seems like you've been quite busy these days…. I got about…what, forty pictures here?” he estimated as he tossed the pile into the air, sending photographs raining down around them.

“Kai, don't start this…” she sighed. She could feel an argument coming on.

“I'm not starting anything. I'm finishing it.”

There was a moment of silence.

“So, how long have you known?”

“I just got 'em today. So where'd you go? And don't try and lie 'cause I know you went somewhere else besides the damn store. Did you go see him?”

“Yeah…I went to see him.” She boldly told the truth as she folded of her arms.

“Oh, look at this. Kyra's bossin' up. How cute is that,” Makai laughed sarcastically.

“Whateva, Kai, I don't have time for your bullshit. You don't see me up here trippin' off Asiah.”

“You don't need to worry about what I do.”

“See, that's your problem. You wanna play that double-standard shit.”

“What double-standard shit?”

“You got your hoes and can see whoever you want, while you got me at home. I'm expected to be exclusively for you to do whatever you want with and treat however you fuckin' please. Well, fuck that, Kai! I'm through!”

“Okay. Listen to what you're saying. They're my
hoes
and you're my
woman. And as my woman
I expect you to be by my side after the death of my brother. But naw, you're out there fucking some other nigga on some straight scandalous shit,” Makai said.

“Let's get one thing straight right here and now,” Kyra started with an attitude. “I am
not
your woman, nor will I ever be again.” She spoke coldly. She never flinched as she stared into the eyes of her old love.

“You're whatever I fucking say you are.” He grabbed her face. “If I find out you go to see him again, I'll kill him, and then when I'm done wit' him…I'll come for you.” His threat was grim and lingered with Kyra long after he walked off.

She flopped down onto the couch and looked through the pictures with tears in her eyes. She'd always known it was risky, but she hadn't realized that it was truly a life-and-death situation until that moment. Her seeing Justin was putting them both in danger.

 

“What are you doin'?” She posed her question after entering the bedroom to see Makai packing a duffel bag.

“What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?”

“Looks to me like you're packin'.
Where are you goin'?
”

“Out of town for a few days. Probably up to tha D. Me and Brandon need to make a run. We fell behind after Reggie and them mothafuckas pulled that li'l stunt.”

“When are you leaving?”

“Later tonight.”

“When will you be back?”

“Probably Sunday night. Deshawn's funeral is on Tuesday.”

“Oh.”

“I'm keeping Bryce and Rick here again, just to let you know. So if you need anything, let them know. I need to be out, though. Fucking witchu done made me late.”

He picked up the half-full duffel bag as he approached the doorway where Kyra stood. He leaned in for a kiss, but she turned away with a look of disgust. Makai looked her over with a cross stare before he stormed out of the house.