Murderville 2: The Epidemic (9 page)

Po accepted the tapes and nodded his head.

“At this level, business is discussed among allies around dinner. If you had contacted anyone else in that book and showed up looking unpolished, they would not have dealt with you. This is a business just as much as Wall Street. We don’t deal in duffel bags and one-dollar bills. This is a billion-dollar industry, Po, so you must act accordingly. In the future, bring your wife not your goon and leave the street gear for the runners on the block,” Mr. Blue schooled.

“Understood. My price is $18k. It’s nonnegotiable, but
I think you’ll find that it’s very reasonable,” Po stated, purposefully setting his price lower than what Samad had noted in his book.

“Indeed it is,” Mr. Blue replied. “I need fifty. I have to start light to ensure that the product you have is of the same quality that I’m used to.”

“That’s understandable. My man Rocko will make the drop for me. Get used to seeing his face. He’s the only person I’ll ever send to conduct business on my behalf,” Po stated. “I’ll have your order ready tomorrow morning. I will text you the time and location where the exchange will be made.”

“Good business,” Mr. Blue said.

Po and Rocko rose from their seats, and Mr. Blue raised his hands in protest.

“Stay! Eat!” Mr. Blue offered.

Rocko glanced at Po who shook his head. “Next time,” he assured. Po reached his hand across the table and sealed the deal with a firm handshake before he and Rocko walked out of the restaurant. They both were feeling on top of the world from their first flip. Each knew that this was simply the beginning. They had hustled from the bottom and now were major players at the top of the game. Life was good.

*    *    *

Po entered the hotel room announcing his presence. “Yo, Liberty, I’m back!” he said as he placed his gun on the table near the entryway. He removed his jacket as he made his way into the suite.

“I’m in the bathroom. I’ll be right out!” she announced.
Her voice cracked slightly as if she had been crying. Po walked over to the door, which was slightly cracked. He peered through the door to see Liberty standing with her back to her mirror and her head turned so that she could see the many bruises that covered her back. She sniffed and wiped the tears from her face. Po knocked lightly and pushed open the door just as she slid the hotel robe over her shoulders, covering her injuries.

She turned to him, embarrassed, as she closed the robe tightly, gripping it around her body.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” Liberty answered quickly. “How did it go?”

“Everything’s good, ma. Don’t worry yourself with that,” Po replied. “Come here.” He pulled her hand toward the tub and sat her down on the edge as he drew her a bath.

“You don’t have to . . .” she protested.

Po checked the temperature of the water and ignored her. He stood up and before he walked out he said, “Get in and relax. I’ll be right back.”

Liberty crossed her arms across her chest and watched him leave the room before she stepped into the water. Po came back a few moments later with a champagne flute in his hand.

“You went a little overboard with the bubbles, didn’t you?” she asked with a laugh as she blew a handful of suds his way.

“Just like a woman. Complaining even when a nigga try to do something nice,” he said with a smirk.

She smiled as he got on his knees beside the large Jacuzzi
tub. He grabbed the sponge beside the tub and dipped it into the water before gently washing the bruises on her back. She winced from his touch and closed her eyes as she brought her knees to her chest. Po frowned as he noticed the healed scars that covered Liberty’s body. “These aren’t fresh scars,” he whispered as he touched them, tracing them gently. “How long was that nigga beating you?” he asked angrily.

“I got those scars long before Samad ever met me,” Liberty whispered in reply. She sipped the champagne, and then let her head hang onto her chest as Po washed her neck.

“Who hurt you, Liberty?” he asked.

“Everyone I have ever met, except you and . . .”

Her words drifted off into silence. She was unable to bring herself to say his name.

“And who?” Po asked.

“A’shai. He was my everything, and now that he’s gone, I have nothing left,” she said.

He could feel the emptiness behind her words and knew exactly how she felt, because her loss matched his own. He stood and held out a large towel for her, turning his head as she stepped into it. She wrapped it snugly under each arm then made her way into the living area. Po sat her on the couch and handed her the glass of champagne.

“A’shai killed himself because he wanted to die with me. We were supposed to be together forever, through anything. Nothing could tear us apart, not a war, not Samad, not even death, but then the doctors found me a new heart.
So now I’m here, and he’s dead. You don’t know the guilt I feel for being the one to live,” Liberty said.

“Do you know whose heart you have?” he asked, unable to help himself.

Liberty shook her head and replied, “No, and I know that getting this second chance is a gift, but without A’shai, it feels more like a curse.”

Out of all the people that Scarlett’s heart could have gone to, Po had the nagging feeling that it was beating strongly, two feet away from him inside of Liberty’s chest. He looked at her and made a mental note to get the answer to the question he sought. If his suspicions were indeed true, there was no way he was ever letting Liberty leave his life. That organ was the last piece of Scarlett he had left, and it didn’t help that he was astounded by Liberty’s aura. She was delicate like a rare flower, and the winds of life had blown at her so hard that it had wilted her spirit. Po could see that Liberty was hurting. He empathized with her on a level so profound that their chance meeting now felt as if it had been written in the stars all along.

Po put his hand on Liberty’s chest and felt the rhythm of life pulsing through her.

THUMP THUMP

THUMP THUMP

He held his breath as the beat of his own heart synced with hers.

THUMP THUMP

THUMP THUMP

“It’s not a curse, ma, believe that,” he said. He cleared
his throat, feeling as though things were getting too thick between them, and stood up. “It’s late. You should get some sleep. We have a long day tomorrow.”

Liberty stood to her feet. “What’s happening tomorrow?” she asked.

“We go shopping. I need you to come to business meetings with me from now on. You’ll need fancy dresses and makeup, the whole nine. You think you can handle that for me?” he asked.

“Of course I can,” she answered sweetly.

“Good. Besides, it’s time we blow some of this money,” he said with a charming smile.

Liberty smiled and nodded her head in excitement. “Good night.”

“Sleep well, ma,” he replied as he turned to the window and peered out over the illuminated city. Po sighed deeply as he poured himself a shot of cognac, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts. He could feel himself meandering down a slippery slope. The easy route was right before him, and it didn’t include Liberty, but he always had a hard head. He liked to do things the hard way, and although it felt wrong to keep Liberty nearby, at the same time it felt right.
What the fuck am I getting myself into?
Was the last thought that crossed his mind before he retired for the night.

SIX

LIBERTY AWOKE TO THE SOUND OF ROCKO
and Po talking out on the terrace, but when she stepped out to join them all conversation ceased.

“Hey, Rocko. Good morning, Po,” she greeted.

“What’s good, lady?” Rocko spoke, quickly coming to the realization that Po was feeling her, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself just yet. The fact that Liberty was still around gave away Po’s feelings toward her. He had never cuffed a chick the way that he was now. Po was soft on Liberty. He turned back to Po, suddenly feeling like the third wheel. “I’ma shake, fam. While you
shopping
for the big meetings and shit, I’ll be going to get a handle on the street shit. Let these West Coast niggas know there’s a new administration in town.”

“I can dig it,” Po stated. “I’ve got another meeting tonight. We’ll link back up in the
A.M.
”

The two men embraced and locked hands before Rocko
departed. Just as Rocko was leaving the penthouse, the concierge walked inside. Behind him was a maid with a table of food.

“You can put it on the terrace,” Po instructed. “Did you get that other thing I requested?” he asked as he turned toward the concierge.

“Of course, sir,” the man said. He snapped his fingers and another woman came inside the suite carrying a garment bag. “Hermès dress,” the concierge said as he turned to Liberty. “Size six looks about right. Shoes and handbag to match.”

Po tipped the concierge generously for the trouble and waited until everyone left the room.

“You want to join me for breakfast, ma?” he asked.

“Hermès?” Liberty said. “You didn’t have to do that, Po.”

“We gon’ do a lot more of that. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” he replied as he placed his hand on the small of her back and led her to her chair.

The two sat down and conversed over a smorgasbord of food. The more Liberty spoke, the more Po grew to like her. There was so much more to her than what met the eye. He let her vent about A’shai, listening attentively as she described the loss she felt. Little did she know that he was feeling his own strife as well. He shared little about himself. He had learned long ago that it was better to listen than to speak.

“Tell me about the scars,” Po said, more as a demand than a request. “When I asked you about them last night you were vague. What could you have possibly done to make someone hurt you like that?”

Liberty’s back stiffened, and she grew uncomfortable as visions of Sierra Leone flooded her mind. Her journey to independence had been a long one; one that she would rather not recount. The intense stare that Po gave her spoke volumes. He wasn’t going to let her brush the subject under the rug.

“I’m from Sierra Leone,” she finally said. “I was forced to the U.S. on a human trafficking ship, then sold into prostitution. Eventually I was purchased by Samad. I was his property until A’shai rescued me from it all.”

Po put his fork down in disbelief. At the most he had suspected an abusive boyfriend. He would have never pieced together such a complicated past, and now that he had heard the truth he felt bad for forcing her to share it. Sympathy emanated from him.

“Don’t look at me like that. That is the exact reason I never tell anyone. You shouldn’t judge,” she whispered.

“I never would, Liberty. I know nothing about the world that you come from. I only know that I am sorry that you had to go through so much,” he said. “If you ever need to talk, I’m willing to listen.”

It was as if a burden had been lifted from Liberty’s chest. The floodgates were open, and as she started to tell him more about her past she felt a sense of relief. The shallow world of money schemes that Po lived in seemed so easy compared to the hardships that she had been forced to endure. The only bright spot in her life was also her darkest memory. Her eyes sparkled each time she spoke of A’shai, but quickly clouded over, threatening to rain tears
of heartbreak. Po found himself admiring her now more than ever. She was a phenomenal person. He had never encountered anyone like her. They spent the next two hours talking, neither growing tired of the conversation.

“I’m damaged goods,” she said to him with a smile.

“You’re perfectly flawed, ma. You’re a beautiful woman, but your story is what makes you special. Don’t be ashamed of it,” he replied.

Liberty lowered her head and cleared her throat. “We better get going.”

They stood, and Po wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close to him. “Let’s go get your wardrobe up, shorty,” he said. “I’ma show you how to play with this money.”

Po and Liberty ripped through Rodeo Drive, lightening the mood with shopping and laughter. Po didn’t care how much he spent, because he knew that he had a money tree in his possession. There was a lot more where that came from. Thanks to Liberty he was connected so a shopping spree was the least he could do to show his appreciation. The pair became fast friends as they spent the day together. Po had always been so serious, so standoffish when it came to dealing with the world, but with Liberty, he was relaxed. To his own surprise, he trusted her. With Liberty, he didn’t feel the need to keep his guard up. What took years for people to earn—his trust—she had claimed overnight. Liberty didn’t know it, but she had Po’s full attention. The magnetic attraction that she had once shared with A’shai she was building with Po without even trying.

*    *    *

In his natural element, Rocko took to the streets like a duck did to water. He had no problem leaving the corporate shit to Po; Rocko was a goon and thrived best in his own environment: the hood. In L.A., the drug game was run differently than in Detroit. Everything was gang-affiliated, and Rocko knew that there would be smoke as soon as word got out that out-of-towners were setting up shop. A shooter at heart, Rocko didn’t care if he was intruding on someone else’s block. He didn’t need a gang of mu’fuckas behind him to take over. He and Po had done it solo for years. The only alliances they needed were Smith & Wesson.

*    *    *

“You ready to go? This meeting is very important. I can’t be late,” Po called through the door as he checked his watch before stuffing his hand in his Ferragamo slacks. Po cleaned up nicely. From first glance one would have never guessed his hood occupation. The high-end threads hung perfectly on his broad shoulders, and with Liberty by his side he would be easily accepted into this new circle of power.

Liberty stepped out of the room, and the sight of her took Po’s breath away. Her beauty radiated as she stood in front of him. The wine-colored Caroline Herrera dress hugged the contours of her body. The silk fabric matched the softness of her skin, and for the first time Po was speechless in her presence.