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Authors: Nikki Turner

BOOK: Relapse: A Novel
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Turning heads the entire way to the exclusive VIP, she kept asking people where Lootchee was. Lootchee had been notified the minute she stepped foot into the club. It didn’t take long for them to cross paths. He approached her.

“You must be Lootchee,” she said in a sensual voice. “My name is Dazzle. I’m a friend of Beijing’s. She asked me to bring a gift to you.”

Inside Lootchee really hoped that Beijing would have showed up but in his heart he knew she wouldn’t. In spite of her not coming, he was satisified knowing that she was still thinking of him and sent a gift. That was at least a start. He was eager to see what she had sent him. He set the box on the table. The people in the VIP area were intrigued either with the beautiful box and its contents or the shapely lady who was presenting it to Lootchee. People begin to surround the table as Lootchee removed the big bow.

As he was opening the box, Lootchee thought about the way he had treated Beijing and promised himself that he’d treat her better. Though he didn’t always show it he really cared for her.

He opened the box like a kid at Christmas, excited to see what his parents had gotten him.

When he took the lid off the box, it was the biggest pile of shit he had ever seen. Half of the people beside him held their noses and looked at the person beside them wondering who farted and what had they eaten. And the other half of the people turned their heads out of respect for Lootchee.

“Read the card, read the card,” Dazzle insisted excitedly with what looked like a genuine smile. Lootchee for the first time in his life did not know what to do. In shock he thought it was some kind of prank, surely his real present was coming. Maybe the card disclosed what she had really gotten him. He took the card from Dazzle. It read:

“I wasn’t going to send you anything … but I’m not that selfish. Here’s all the shit you can eat. Happy Birthday! That is … if it’s really your birthday.”

Lootchee was speechless and there was no playing it off. The expression on his face was defeat and his attitude turned as shitty as the pile in the box. He looked at Dazzle as if he was about to hit her, as she licked her lips. “Get the fuck out of here.” He put her out in one breath and then in the next, he demanded, “Get Beijing on the phone now.”

She called Beijing and passed along Beijing’s message, “She said she don’t wanna talk to you.” Lootchee snatched the phone but Beijing hung up and didn’t answer again.

As Lootchee threw Dazzle out of there, Beijing laughed her butt off the entire night and for days to come. She was satisfied that she had ruined his birthday!

CHAPTER 36
Neighborhood Watch

Beijing drove her Lexus at a leisurely pace, heading east on Alston Avenue, only a few blocks from Chyna’s school. She had promised her niece that if she brought home a good report card, Beijing would take her to the mall and treat her to some new shoes. Beijing loved buying things for Chyna. Hell, one of the reasons she busted her butt working was to make a better life not only for herself but also for Chyna.

Mary J. Blige’s new CD was playing in the deck but the volume was turned down while she talked on her cell phone to Rayna. Beijing was in no rush since she was more than a few minutes early. As she came up to a stop sign, Rayna was dishing out her daily dose of gossip.

“Girl, I’m telling you. I was shocked when I saw him.” Rayna claimed to have seen a prominent Atlanta-area rapper dating a homosexual.

Beijing wasn’t sure if Rayna was putting her on or not. “You need to stop lying on people, girl.”

“If I’m lying,” Rayna shot back, “Tupac ain’t dead.”

Beijing laughed. “Then you know you fibbing. Everybody knows that Machiavelli isn’t dead. That nigga in Cuba somewhere, still making music and probably pushing an Escalade.” She thought with some satisfaction about how she’d gotten the trucks to Cuba, courtesy of Stash. The most fascinating thing about the whole ordeal was that he’d made it all happen with just a phone call. As thoughts of Stash crossed her mind, her phone rang. “Hold on Rayna.”

“Naw, girl, I’m telling you something. Let whoever it is call your butt back.”

“Nope, I can’t, as a matter of fact, let me call you back.”

Rayna sucked her teeth as Beijing clicked over to the other line. “Hello.”

“Hello, beautiful.”

“You haven’t even seen me yet. How do you know I’m beautiful?” she asked Stash.

“Because you have a beautiful spirit and that makes you a gorgeous person.”

“How sweet of you.”

“How sweet of you to send me the Cuban cigars. I really appreciate it.”

“It was the least I could do. You helped me get something to that place and I wanted you to have something from there.”

“They just arrived. So,” he continued, “how about let’s meet and celebrate what a good team we make.”

“That sounds like a plan.” Beijing smiled. Although she could not put her finger on it, there was something about Stash that she liked.

“Consider it a date, then. Tell me what city, time, and place of choice,” he said to her.

Beijing was secretly excited that Stash had asked her out on a date and was about to change the track on the disc when she was startled by the squealing of tires coming to an abrupt stop, making her heart skip a beat.

“What da fu—?” she exclaimed, but Stash never heard her. “Shit,” she said, frustrated by the phone’s reception.

When she lifted her head up to see what was going on, three SUVs had her triangled in so Beijing couldn’t pull away. She had no idea what was popping off but knew it couldn’t be good. To make matters worse, she had no way to call for help since her cell was in a dead zone.

There was nowhere to go: An Escalade was in front barely touching her bumper, a Range Rover was on her left, and a Denali was on her back bumper. To the right of her were the curb and a stop sign. She was cornered. Where was neighborhood watch when she needed them?

Three men wearing camouflage army pants, black T-shirts, and masks popped out of the vehicles. One quickly moved to the driver’s side of Beijing’s car, and the other two went to the passenger side, armed with semiautomatic weapons.

One of the pistol-wielding trio reached for the door handle.

Beijing beat him to the punch, locking her door before he could grab it. What the hell did these guys want? She started to rev the engine, but then quickly remembered that there was nowhere to go. For a split second she thought about ramming into the Escalade in front of her but knew it was a lost cause. A Lexus against a Cadi truck? No competition.

The guy on her side tapped on the window and said, “Open up the door and you won’t get hurt.”

With tears in her eyes, she shook her head. She didn’t know how she was going to get out of this alive.

Before she realized it, one of the guys popped off a shot in the rear passenger tire.

She may have been superwoman to some, but when it came to
bullets, her flesh was just as vulnerable as a baby’s. And right now she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs like a newborn. But she didn’t. She didn’t want these lunatics to see how scared she truly was.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt, now open up,” the guy said. “I’m not the crazy one, these guys are.” He gestured to the men with the automatic weapons. “I’m the calm one, the Negotiator. One of the crazy ones took matters in his own hands,” he said firmly.

As Beijing stared at the man doing the talking, she prayed that God would somehow miraculously send a tower signal to her cell phone so she could call 911. Or at least send another car her way that could call for help. While she was eye to eye with the Negotiator, she didn’t see one of the other guys walking up on her car. He held a brick in his black-gloved hand covered by a black towel. P
ow!
He bashed in the window.

Beijing yelped, seeing the shards of glass everywhere. The same man stuck his hand inside the door and punched the button to unlock the latch.

“See, bitches don’t appreciate you when you are nice,” he said after sucker-punching her window. “You gotta rough them up to make them understand what the fuck you are saying. All that negotiation ain’t hitting on shit,” Glove-Man said.

“Fall back,” the Negotiator demanded to his hotheaded friend, moving him out of the way. “Miss, let me help you out of the car. As I said before, I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want that guy over there”—he pointed to the man who had just broken her window—“to pull you out, nor do I want to be forceful with you, but as you can see these guys don’t give a fuck. If you don’t cooperate, I seriously don’t know what might happen.” He paused briefly to make sure he had Beijing’s undivided attention, “Nobody here wants you dead, but they will kill you if they have to. I promise you that.”

The Negotiator searched in her eyes as he reached a hand out
to help her exit the car. “In fact, you are worth more alive to us. So I’m asking if you would please not make these guys rough you up.”

Beijing’s mind was in overdrive. She thought about Chyna waiting on her—
Under these circumstances she’s better off at school than here
, she reasoned. She began to think about all the horrible things they could do to her. She wondered if she would make it out alive. Where was Lootchee when she needed him? She tried to block out all of those negative thoughts.

“Fix the tire on that motherfuckin’ Lexus and bring it with you,” Glove-Man said to the other two dudes.

Beijing looked back quickly at her car, wishing she were in it. Then the driver of the Escalade took off, and she realized that she was no longer in control—of anything.

CHAPTER 37
Somewhere in the Middle of Nowhere Land

Inside the backseat of the Escalade, the Negotiator turned to his captive and handed her a mask to cover her eyes.

“You’re going to have to put this on,” he said. “It’s for your own good.”

Beijing was trying not to show how frightened she was, but she could no longer pretend. She was terrified.

“Who are you?” she asked in a shaky voice. “What do you want with me?”

The Negotiator gestured toward the mask still in her hand, “First, you do as I say.”

Beijing pulled the thick silky cloth over the top of her head and everything went black. She felt the truck smoothly take off as if the driver were leisurely transporting his grandmother to a place of worship.

“Now,” the man next to her began, “who I am is neither here
nor there. My job is to pick you up, deliver you to a secure location, and babysit you until someone pays to get you back.”

“All this is for money?” Beijing said, mortified. But as long as it wasn’t personal, maybe she would be all right. “How much money do you want?” she wanted to know.

The Negotiator pressed his spine to the back of the soft leather seat. “You’ll find out soon enough. Now sit back,” he ordered. “Question time is over.”

They rode in silence except for the radio. She had no idea how long they were driving, but she heard Don’s new song at least three times. She felt the Escalade turn and then realized by the bumpiness that they were off the main road. She could smell pine and evergreen coming from outside, and could feel the thick tires on the truck crush the small branches and leaves that carpeted the path.

Her hands were still free, and she desperately wanted to reach up and snatch the mask from her eyes, but thought better of it. It might cost her her life.

Once creeping along the trail, the SUV finally came to a stop.

After the engine shut off, Beijing asked, “Can I take this thing off my face now?”

“Not yet,” the Negotiator replied. “Sit tight.”

The front door of the truck opened at the same time as the rear door where the Negotiator sat. A few seconds later someone opened the door next to her. A hand was on her arm, then the Negotiator said, “Step down … easy … I don’t want you to fall and hurt yourself.”

He led her across a grassy surface for about thirty feet then stopped.

“Take your time on the steps,” he warned. “There are three of them.”

Beijing felt like a blind woman and quickly learned to appreciate her other senses. She gingerly raised her right foot and felt
for the step. It moaned under her weight. The next two steps also cried out as she pushed off to reach the top.

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