Gunz and Roses (18 page)

“I'm sorry.” Gunz held her hand tight.

Unable to digest it all, Keisha stood frozen stiff. Her forehead was scrunched together, causing her eyes to squint as tears flowed like rivers from her eyes. At that moment, she was willing to give up her heart, her home, anything she owned, just to be with Bishop again. He was her rock, her shoulder to lean on. She was part of him, and he was a part of her, so now that he was gone, a part of her had died too.

Gunz pulled Keisha into him and wrapped his arms around her. It didn't matter that rain was dropping heavily onto them at a rapid pace. They needed each other like they both needed air to breathe. Under the midnight sky and cloud-covered moon, they mourned the loss of the person neither of them wanted to let go.

Soaking wet, Gunz buzzed Gray's loft for the fifth time. He had to see her. At that moment, he needed her more than ever before.

“Will you just go home,” she pleaded through the intercom.

“Not until you come talk to me.”

“That's the problem. I don't have anything to say.”

“Please,” he begged, placing his forehead on the metal gate.

Gray ran her hands down her face and sighed. “All right.”

Minutes later, she exited the building with her hands in her pockets. Gunz swallowed hard. By the look on her face, it seemed as if she'd had enough. Gray entered her code and walked through the gate.

“What is it, Gunz?”

“Come here.” He reached out his hand for her.

“No.” Gray shook her head.

“Are you okay?”

“Does it look like I'm okay? I just saw your best friend hanging from a pole. This shit is crazy. I can't do this. More importantly, I can't believe that I tricked myself into believing that I could be with a man like you.”

“A man like me?”

“You sell drugs for a living, Gunz. You kill people,” she stressed.

“You don't think I see how my life affects people?” he questioned, angry. “This whole thing is my fault!” He pounded his fist against his chest. “Bishop wasn't supposed to sell dope. I forced this life on him. He was supposed to go to college and play ball, but one night, we got pulled over by the police. I had some weed and coke stashed in the ride, so I ran. Bishop didn't get out fast enough and got caught, but guess what? My nigga didn't snitch or nothing. He took the bid for me. Now look . . .” Gunz's bottom lip trembled. “My nigga dead and I gotta carry around the burden of knowing it's my fault.” He broke down and cried.

Seeing Gunz in such a state caused the ice around Gray's heart to melt. Gunz wasn't the type of man to show emotion, so to see him cry only told her that their relationship was growing, not fading away. Gray took her hands out of her pockets and wrapped her arms lovingly around Gunz. Yes, his life was dangerous and she should back away now while she had the chance, but there was no way she could turn her back on him now.

G
ray sat at her desk. She silently thanked God that it was Wednesday. Only two more days to go until the weekend and Gunz's birthday. She'd been working her ass off to prove to everyone that she deserved her new title. When everyone went home, Gray stayed late. Even on her off time, she would think of new ideas to pitch.

Working for
Haute Couture
was a chance of a lifetime, and she cherished every second. Gray loved living the life of a jetsetter. One day she could be on a set styling a shoot, and the next, sipping mimosas with Donatella Versace. She wouldn't trade her life for the world.

Gray looked down at her wrist and admired the gold Rolex watch Gunz had given her. The watch previously belonged to Bishop. After his funeral, Keisha decided to give Gunz a couple of his things, the watch being one. It took Gray a while to get over Bishop's death and the realization of the danger that consumed Gunz's career choice, but she loved him. Besides, what kind of person would she be if she left him when he needed her most?

“Excuse me, Gray,” her assistant, Breann, buzzed in.

“Yes,” she buzzed her back.

“I just received a call from Kema. Sienna wants you in her office a.s.a.p.”

“Okay.”

For a second she sat puzzled. She hoped she wasn't in trouble. Gray ran through a list of things in her mind and wondered what she could've possibly done wrong. Nothing came to mind, but it was still odd that Sienna wanted to see her.

Gray checked herself in the mirror she had placed in her office. Once she saw that her outfit and hair were intact, she hopped on the elevator and went up to the twenty-fifth floor.

Kema was standing behind her desk, frantically going through papers and talking on the phone. She looked cute in crisp white fitted shirt, wide black leather belt, gray pencil skirt and heels. Pausing, she stopped what she was doing and said, “Sienna wants to see you now!”

“For what? Did I do something wrong?” Gray whispered so no one else could hear.

“I don't know, but she did seem upset.”

“Shit.”

“Sienna, Gray is here to see you,” Kema buzzed her office.

“Send her in,” Sienna replied back.

Gray inhaled deeply, pushed the glass doors open to her office, and entered. To her surprise, Sienna wasn't alone. Jean-Pierre, her right hand man and go-to guy, was seated across from her with his legs crossed.

“Have a seat, Gray.” Sienna pointed to the empty seat next to Jean-Pierre.

Gray nervously sat down. She prayed to God she wasn't being fired.

“We've been watching you performance closely,” Jean-Pierre began.

Gray looked back and forth between him and Sienna.

“And we feel . . . that you have been doing an excellent job.”

“Thank God.” Gray placed her hand over her chest and smiled.

“Yes,” Sienna chimed in. “The shoot that you styled for the wedding issue was fabulous. I especially loved the Monique Lhuillier gown.”

“That one was my favorite too,” Gray gushed.

“Well, to congratulate you, we have decided to send you to Paris.”

“We want you to do an article on how women in Paris style themselves versus women in the U.S.,” Jean-Pierre added.

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, Gray. There are a lot of people in this building who would kill to be in your position, so please don't take this offer lightly.”

“How could I? I'm honored. It's always been a dream of mine to go to Paris, let alone for a week.”

“Good. You'll be flying out tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow,” Gray repeated, remembering Gunz's birthday.

“Yes. Is that a problem?” Sienna questioned.

“No, no,” she assured. “Everything's fine.”

 

Gray gazed blankly at her plate while picking at her food. All night she'd been dreading telling Gunz her good news. For weeks, he'd gone on and on about his birthday party and how we wanted her to be there to share it with him. Once she told him about her unexpected trip, she was sure he would flip.

Gray hated letting her loved ones down, especially Gunz. Any second of the day she could spend with him, she did. She, too, had been excited about his birthday party. She couldn't wait to be that chick on his arm. She didn't want there to be an opportunity where some other broad could come and take her place. She hoped and prayed Gunz would understand.

“What's wrong wit' you? Why you not eating?” Gunz took a sip of wine.

“I guess I must've lost my appetite.” She looked up from her plate.

“You straight?”

“I wanna talk to you about something.” Gray leaned her elbows on the table and leaned forward.

“Go 'head.”

“Today at work I got some good news.”

“Don't tell me you got another promotion.”

“Nah, not yet.” She laughed some. “I've been given the opportunity to go to Paris for a week.”

“That's what's up, ma. I'm proud of you. Have you ever been before?”

“No.”

“You gon' love it. I've been twice. As a matter of fact, while you out there, I might come fuck wit' you for a couple days.”

“Really? You would do that?” She got excited.

“Yeah, why not? When you leave?”

“See, that's the thing. They want me to leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, as in Thursday, the day before my birthday?”

“Yeah.”

“Umm.” Gunz was noticeably upset.

“Please don't tell me you're mad.”

“I mean, what you want me to say? Don't get me wrong.” He toyed with his napkin. “I'm happy for you. It's just some fucked-up-ass timing. So are you gon' go?”

“I want to, but I also wanna be here for you.”

“I want you to be here, too, but I guess you gotta do what's best for you,” Gunz spat in a sarcastic tone.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Gray shot back, offended.

“Look, do what you gotta do.” He stood up and threw down his napkin.

“Where you going?”

“Outside. I need a smoke.”

 

Shanell's techno-inspired jam “Substitute Lover” was on full blast as Gray raced frantically around the house like a mad woman. It was almost 6:00
PM
. Gunz would be there in an hour, and she was nowhere near being ready. A part of her regretted choosing not to go on the trip to Paris, but knowing she was about to see Gunz's face lifted her spirits. Gray had it all planned out. Before they went out to The Loft, where his birthday party was being held, she was going to surprise Gunz with his favorite Latin meal, Caribbean seafood parrillada.

Gray had been studying the recipe all week. She couldn't wait to see the expression on his face, but first she had to pack her overnight bag that she would take to Gunz's house and get dressed. There was a lot to do in so little time. She still had to get her clothes together, as well as all of the ingredients that went into making the parrillada.

Before she could even start, there was an impromptu buzz at the door. Gray prayed that it wasn't Gunz arriving early as she allowed the visitor up.

“Tyra Mail!” Tee-Tee threw his hands up in the air as she opened the door.

“What in the hell is yo' ass doing here? I thought you and Raymon were going out.”

“We were,” he said in passing. “But at the last minute, when I'm on my way to the restaurant, this sorry-ass Negro ups and call me and says he can't make it. So I said the next time you wanna bend me over and pop my asshole open like it's a cherry, I won't be able to make it either.”

“I often ask myself why are we friends.” Gray stopped and looked at the ceiling, perplexed.

“Fuck that.” He playfully pushed her as she continued walking. “You better get down like me, girl. These men out here got to be put on restriction. That's the only way they asses gon' act right. I'm tellin' you.”

“I guess,” she replied as they entered her second bedroom, which had been turned into a storage room for all of her clothes and shoes.

“You can guess all you want to, but it ain't gon' get you nowhere but somewhere cryin' wit' ya feelings hurt. Now, what is going on wit' you? Why is this house lookin' like a scene from
The Crying Game
?” Tee-Tee looked around, disgusted. Gray had clothes and shoes thrown everywhere.

“I'm gettin' ready to go over Gunz's house.”

“I forgot you were going over there this weekend.”

“Yeah, bitch, get it together,” Gray quipped, going through her clothes.

“Gray, don't let the fake eyelashes and big boobs fool you. I will cut you the fuck up,” he declared, pulling out a pocket knife.

“Man, please. If you don't put that shit up.”

“Okay, think I'm playin'. Now, what time you supposed to be leaving?”

“He's supposed to be here in an hour.” Gray tried on a pair of black skinny leg jeans.

“Although I shouldn't, since I'm here . . .” Tee-Tee threw his head back and inhaled deeply. “I guess . . . I could drop you off since I'm going that way.”

“Thank you, wit' yo' dramatic ass. That'll save Gunz the trip, so let me call him.”

“You do that, while I pick you out some sexy lingerie that'll light his dick on fire.”

Gray left the room and pretended as if she hadn't heard Tee-Tee. Once she located the cordless phone, she dialed Gunz's number. Five rings and no answer later, she hung up. Gray tried calling him again, but there was still no answer. Unwilling to give up, she tried once more, but he still wouldn't pick up. Gray decided this time to leave a message.

“Hey, babe, this me. I just wanted to tell you that instead of you coming to get me, Tee-Tee will drop me off. Call me back.”

After pressing the pound button, she hung up and went back into the room.

“What he say?” Tee-Tee asked, trying on one of her backless tops.

“Nothing. He didn't answer.”

“Don't worry. He'll call back.”

Thirty minutes later, Gray still hadn't heard from Gunz. She found it quite odd that after talking non-stop earlier in the day, he was now not answering his phone. A bad feeling stung her gut. Gray was about to call him once more when her phone started to ring. She didn't even have to look at the screen. By the ringtone she knew it was Gunz. Gray left the room and answered the phone.

“Hello?”

“What's up?” he asked, sounding impatient.

Gray could hear loud music and a bunch of people talking in the background.

“Where you at?” she questioned, already agitated.

“Why?”

“'Cause I wanna know, that's why.”

“Man, do you work for the police?”

“Anyway, why you ain't been answering your phone?”

“I ain't hear that muthafucka ring. Why? What's up wit' all the questions?”

“So I guess you didn't get my message either. I was callin' to tell you that Tee-Tee can bring me down to your house instead of you coming all the way over here to get me.”

“Well, I ain't at home right now.”

“When will you be?”

“I don't know.” He chuckled. “Why is you twenty-one questioning me? I thought we agreed that I was coming to get you, so why don't we just leave it like that, 'cause I'm in the middle of something right now.”

“In the middle of what?” she countered back. “It don't sound like you too busy to me.”

“Man, go 'head wit' that. I told you about always assuming shit.”

“Whateva, Gunz. Are you still coming to get me or what?”

“I said I was. Calm down,” he snapped. “Look, let me call you back.”

Gray didn't even give him a chance to say good-bye before she hung up.
Fed up
weren't the words to describe how she felt. Once again Gunz was on some bullshit. She was so sick of being number ten on his to-do list.

“What's the deal, ma-ma?” Tee-Tee asked as soon as she came back into the room.

“I don't know.” Gray tried not to show how upset she was. “He said he was gon' call me back.”

Two hours and six unanswered phone calls later, Gray and Tee-Tee had watched two episodes of
Keeping up with the Kardashians
, ate pizza, and looked up clothes on the Internet. Gray attempted to act as if she wasn't in turmoil, but each second that passed without Gunz calling was like walking on glass. Her stomach felt like it had dropped to her knees. They'd been planning for her to come over all week, so what was the hold-up now?

“Look, girl.” Tee-Tee turned and looked at her as they sat at the computer. “Where is yo' man at? 'Cause I gots to go.”

“I don't know. Let me try and call him again.”

Gray picked up the phone and called Gunz. This time her call was immediately sent to voicemail. She was pissed. Here he was playing games again.

“You can go 'head. He not answering the phone.” She snapped her phone shut.

“What's that about? Don't make me call the homies and have somebody whoop his ass. And please don't sleep, 'cause my niggas in the Get It Gurl Mafia don't play.”

“I'm sure they don't. Thanks, Tee, but that will not be necessary.”

“Well, I'm about to go have a drink. You wanna roll?” He placed on his coat.

“Yeah, 'cause right about now a bitter bitch like me needs one.” She put on her shoes and grabbed her purse.

“I know you not going nowhere wit' me lookin' like a tomboy.” He looked her up and down.

“What?” She examined her outfit. She thought she looked casually cute. Gray rocked a vintage AC/DC T-shirt, skin tight dirty wash jeans, and checkerboard Nike Blazers. Her hair was filled with loose, messy curls. A pair of diamond studs and the gold wristwatch Gunz gave her was the only jewelry she cared to sport.