Riding Dirty on I-95 (10 page)

As Chocolate continued driving, Mercy looked over at him and said, “Thank you.” Mercy paused because she didn't know what to call Chocolate. She had always referred to him by the nickname she had given him. Then there was the fake name he used to check into the hotel under.

“I don't know what I would have done without you,” she continued. Then she shook off that emotional shit and changed the
subject. “I couldn't believe them bitches couldn't wear them ass-whippings like women.”

“Don't worry, ma, I got this one. No one wants to be labeled a snitch, not in the damn hood anyway.”

“Shit, or anywhere else for that matter,” Mercy added.

“When they get tired of people calling them five-oh, they'll come clean. Plus I'm going to holla at them myself.”

Mercy looked over at Chocolate again, surprised that he had her back like that. “Thanks,” she said.

“I told you, don't worry, I got you,” he reiterated. “I'ma hold you down.” He glanced over at her.

“Why?” Mercy couldn't help but ask.

“Because. I can tell you's a real down-ass chick. I know you'd look out for me if I needed you to. I look out for people who look out for me.”

“But I really ain't did shit,” Mercy said.

Chocolate, just like the nickname Mercy had given him, smoothed right on over Mercy's comment. “I like you and your style,” he said, concentrating on the road as he busted a right. “You gon' let me take you out tomorrow, right?”

Mercy stared at him and thought for a moment. Every fiber of Mercy's mind told her to decline, but her body did all the talking. “How about next week, when my face heal up?” she suggested.

“That's cool.” He smiled as he pulled up in front of Mercy's building.

Mercy went to get Deonie from the backseat of the car where she still lay asleep.

“I'll get her,” Chocolate said as he proceeded to scoop Deonie up.

He carried Deonie up the stairs and laid her on her bed. He then walked back down to the living room. “I gotta go try to make this bail money back,” Chocolate said. “I'll be by tomorrow
to bring you some stuff to help nurse your face back so you can hurry up and get better and we can go out.” Chocolate smiled and winked.

“Look, what's your real name?” Mercy asked.

He looked down, then chuckled. “Raheem,” he said. He then walked over to Mercy and kissed her on the cheek. “I thought you'd never ask.”

That was usually Raheem's test to distinguish bitches from real bitches. Most hoes could not have cared less about his real name. The only name they ever gave a fuck about was Benjamin. At that moment, he knew Mercy was something special.

As Mercy watched Raheem glide away with his smooth stride, she was glad that she had let her body do the talking.

Just like he promised, Raheem came by to check on her the next day. He arrived with a Happy Meal for Deonie and soup for Mercy. They watched some movies that he had rented until the wee hours of the morning. The next morning he went to handle his business, but came back before dark with food and movies again. It didn't take long for this to become a routine.

Finally, one night Raheem and Mercy didn't bother with the movies. After they put Deonie to bed, Mercy took a nice long bubble bath. Raheem waited for her in her bed. When she came out, wearing nothing but a towel, Raheem's eyes told her he appreciated every inch of her. It was time, she knew, for her to let him get as close to her as he wanted to. And when she crawled into bed with him and felt his hard dick rub against her, she knew she wanted it, too.

Before long, Raheem wasn't living in any hotels anymore. Mercy was his girl, and they shared the same address.

R
ight off the bat, Raheem, AKA Chocolate Smooth, rolled out the red carpet for Mercy, introducing her to things she never imagined would be in her reach so soon. He banned her from the Rainbow clothing store and got her VIP at Nicole Miller. He stepped her up from the Ten Dollars Store to Bebe and from Hills department store to Macy's, but most important he updated her imitation Coach bucket bag to a Gucci tote bag.

Like Cinderella's fairy godmother had done, Raheem took his magic wand and turned Mercy's Chevette into a Nissan 240. He turned her secondhand furniture into a brand-new rich mahogany leather living room set that filled the entire apartment with the scent of leather. Her status changed from hoodrat to hoodstar all in a matter of three short months. And Brianna dropped the charges against her faster than a dealer drops a bag of dope when the po-po come around. In fact, Brianna was hardly anywhere to be seen lately. If Mercy came walking down the street, Brianna suddenly remembered she had somewhere to go and she was gone. Her little followers didn't have much to say now.

The getting was good, and soon Raheem became the first man, outside of her father and uncle, to ever show her any kind of love.

Although Mercy was much younger than the women he had kicked it with in the past, Raheem spoiled her all the same with sneakers, jewelry, hairdos, and all kinds of gifts whenever he made a trip to New York. Whatever Mercy needed or wanted for her and Deonie, he provided. Not only did he provide her with the material things she desired, he gave her his love.

“You're a very special lady,” he said on Valentine's Day as he gave her a diamond tennis bracelet. It was the nicest gift he had ever given her, and she was awed by it.

“What makes you think I'm so special?” she asked, clasping the bracelet around her wrist.

“You got heart and you got brains. And I can tell you're loyal. You got it all, boo.”

Not one nigga could fuck with the way Mercy felt for Raheem, and he knew it. Mercy still had big dreams. She wanted to do something great with her life, something that would have made her daddy proud. Maybe with Raheem her luck had finally changed.

M
ercy was in the kitchen, washing up the morning dishes while Deonie sat in the living room watching cartoons on TV, when she heard the doorbell rang. It was probably Ms. Pat coming over to take Deonie to her house for a while so Mercy could go shopping. Before she could get out of the kitchen, she heard the front door open.

“Hey baby girl, it's me!” she heard someone yelling in the other room. “It's your mommy.”

Mercy's heart fell to her feet. She ran into the living room to see Zurri with a big smile on her face, holding a lollipop out to Deonie. Poor Deonie stared at Zurri as if she didn't know what to do.

“You don't know your own mommy?” Zurri asked. Deonie hesitantly reached out for the lollipop. “That's my baby.”

Zurri swept Deonie up in her arms while Mercy stood there in shock. She had always known this day would come, but in the nine months she had been raising Deonie she had fallen in love with her as if she were her own child, and now she didn't know if she could face it. Zurri turned to her with a huge grin and gave her a hug with her other arm. “Hey Sissster,” Zurri whined.

A dry “hey” is what Mercy gave Zurri.

“You are just the best sister ever, Mercy. Thank you so much for making sure they didn't take my baby away.”

“When did they let you out?”

“Ummm, I've been home for about a month now.”

“Oh, for real. Well, why you didn't come by here sooner?”

“I had to get my shit together and make sho' I'm a'ight first. Plus I knew you had it under control,” Zurri casually said, then looked into Deonie's eyes. “Auntie Mercy was treating you good?”

Deonie smiled and nodded. “My auntie Mercy is the best.”

Mercy so badly wanted to be excited to see her sister, but she wasn't. She wanted them to bond, to catch up on lost time, but things were not going how she had always imagined they would. The connection that the two sisters should have had just wasn't there.

“You gon' let me take her stuff or what, because I got a ride waiting for us.” Just then a horn blew.

Mercy nodded and said, “I'll get her stuff for you.”

She quickly gathered up Deonie's things, thinking she might break down any minute but not wanting to cry in front of her niece. Deonie gave her a sticky kiss on the cheek, and just like that she was gone.

As Mercy stood in the doorway and watched, Deonie waving from the car seat in the back as the car drove off, tears ran down Mercy's face.
Damn, I'm gonna miss the hell out of that little girl
, Mercy thought.
Who am I going to have now?
Mercy hoped that Raheem would pull up in his car. Mercy needed him at that moment. She didn't want to go back in the apartment alone. She'd never been there alone. That had been her and Deonie's place. She'd probably still be living back at the rooming house if it weren't for Deonie. She had only moved into the apartment for
Deonie's sake. She didn't know what it was going to be like living there now. Mercy heard the phone ring. She quickly ran inside and grabbed the phone before it went to voice mail.

Out of breath, looking down at the caller ID, she saw Raheem's cell phone number. “Hey, baby,” Mercy said with a sigh of relief.

“What's the deal?” Raheem asked in his regular confident tone.

“Nothing,” Mercy lied, not knowing her man would hear the real truth in her voice.

“Where cutie pie at? What she doing?”

“Her momma just showed up out of the blue with a lollipop and took her.”

“Damn, baby.”

“But normally I think I would have been okay with it, but she was just so casual about the whole situation. She said she had been out for a month, and you know she didn't even come by and see Deonie until now.”

“Well, kids know who really love them and who bullshitting them.”

“I know, but I am going to worry about my niece. Her mother takes the whole being a mother thing too lightly,” Mercy said sadly.

“Well, she knows you are there for her, right?”

“Yup, she knows I love her. I used to tell her every day.”

“Damn, baby, the house is going to be so quiet with her gone.” Raheem sighed.

“I know.” Mercy wiped away a tear that had formed in her eye. “I miss you. When are you coming home?” she said, clearing her throat.

“Well …”

“Well, what, baby?” Mercy asked curiously.

“Shit is crazy as a motherfucker.”

“What happened?”

“Niggas tripping. My little man was supposed to be coming up, but he hasn't even left yet. Now he holdin' me up.”

Mercy knew better than to ask any incriminating questions, especially over the horn. That was the main rule in the hustler's wife handbook.

“Damn, baby. I just really need to see you,” Mercy said. “With Deonie being gone and all …” She paused. “I just miss you, is all.”

“I miss you, too,” Raheem said. His other line beeped. “Hold on a second, babe.” He clicked over to answer the call, then clicked back to Mercy. “Look, boo. Let me call Amtrak and see what time the train leave to get up here.”

“Okay, boo,” Mercy said, relieved her man was taking care of her.

Arrangements were set, and Mercy would soon be on her way to see her man. There was just one thing Raheem needed her to do first. He wanted her to stop by a house that he hustled out of to pick up his bags and bring them when she came up. Mercy packed her own bag and then did as she was told. It wasn't until she was on the train and she decided to look inside the heavy bags before she put them in the overhead compartment that she realized they contained guns. Although she felt like her freedom had been jeopardized without her consent, she brushed it off. She didn't want Raheem to know that she had gone in his bags; he trusted her, and she didn't want to ruin that. But she didn't want to piss off the one person, other than Ms. Pat, who had her back. Now it was her chance to have his.

Once Mercy stepped off the train and planted her feet on New York soil, Raheem upped his game to a whole 'notha level. If Mercy thought she had been treated well before, she hadn't seen nothing yet.

Over the next couple of days, Mercy's life consisted of shopping
at Neiman Marcus, Macy's, Saks, and other fine stores; eating at the fanciest restaurants; and staying in a deluxe suite at the Waldorf Hotel.