The Prada Plan 2: Leah's Story (16 page)

“Let’s discuss this tomorrow. Maybe some sleep will get your mind right. If you’re still on this rah-rah shit in the morning, then we’ll talk,” Khi-P said. “Take a fresh bath and relax. Things have been rough for you. Just rest your mental, ma. You’re welcome to whatever is in my home.”

“I don’t have anything or anywhere to go. I went for broke trying to get Sky back, and now I have nothing,” she whispered as she shook her head.

“You’re a hustler’s wife, YaYa. Indie looked out for enough people for his peoples to look out for you now that he’s down. I got you, ma. We’ll go grab you some clothes tomorrow, and you can stay here until you get on your feet.”

The next morning when YaYa awoke, she sat up in complete shock. She was lying in Mekhi’s guestroom in a plush king bed, surrounded by hundred dollar bills. She had seen money before and had been showered with it before, but this over the top display of wealth was too much even for her.

She got out of bed, and her mouth fell in an O of surprise when she felt the bills beneath her feet. It was all over the floor as well, and a trail of bills was littered out into the hallway. She followed the money all the way down into the kitchen, where breakfast was waiting.

“Khi-P!” she shouted in confusion. When she got no response, she went looking for him, searching high and low through the plush home. She didn’t know what all of this was about, but it was flattering nonetheless.

She finally found her way back to the kitchen and sat down to eat when the phone rang. She hesitated when she reached for the phone. YaYa wasn’t trying to blow up Khi-P’s spot, but the caller ID said
UNKNOWN
, and she figured it could be him calling.

“Hello?” she answered.

“YaYa?” As soon as he heard her voice, the picture of Khi-P and Disaya flashed before Indie’s eyes. A sudden rage filled him as he gripped the phone tightly. “YaYa!” he called out again, this time with more authority. He didn’t know all of the details of what had occurred between the two of them, and he didn’t want to know. All he knew was that if it happened again, he was going to see Khi-P. He had chalked the first indiscretion up to YaYa’s vulnerability, but the next time he wouldn’t be as passive.

YaYa’s hands began to tremble and she almost dropped the phone when she heard his voice. The familiarity of Indie’s tone softened her for a brief second. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, not knowing what to say to him. Everything in her wanted to confront him, but she couldn’t. Instead, she hung up the phone without responding.

Why did I even answer the phone?
she thought, cursing herself. She knew that Indie had recognized her voice when the phone rang right back. Indie had a personal cell phone in jail, so he didn’t have to go through the jail operators. He had heard her loud and clear, and she couldn’t help but to feel guilty, as if she had to explain.

Khi-P walked through the front door and stopped when he saw her holding his cordless phone. The worried look on her face gave her away.

“Indie called?” he asked.

YaYa nodded as tears came to her eyes. When the phone blared loudly in her hand, she was so nervous that she dropped it. Mekhi bent down calmly and retrieved the phone.

“Please don’t answer it. I don’t want to talk to him,” YaYa pleaded.

Khi-P could tell that Indie had a hold over YaYa. She was already trained for a hustler.

“He heard my voice. What is he going to think?”

Mekhi put his finger to his lips to signal for her to be silent, and then he answered. “Indie, my nigga,” he stated.

“Put YaYa on the phone,” he said, slightly vexed. Mekhi could hear the anger through the phone.

“She’s real upset, fam. She not really up to talking right now,” Khi-P responded as YaYa looked on with wide eyes, biting her nails anxiously.

“What? You speaking for my bitch now?” Indie asked. “Fuck is she doing at your crib anyway? I heard you been real involved with what’s mine.” Indie was slightly out of character as he raised his voice, something he rarely ever did.

“Family, calm down. It’s not like that. She ran away from the hospital this morning,” Khi-P said, changing up the facts a little bit. “She didn’t have no paper, no clothes, no nothing, fam. She out here on E.”

Hearing that YaYa was down bad filled Indie with guilt. He hadn’t set her up for the inevitable. He had known that eventually he would have to leave her. It was every hustler’s fate, and he should have put some cash up for her just in case. Everything from the cars to the roof that she slept under had been in his name. The temper that had threatened to explode instantly went away once he realized she had nowhere else to go.

“You right, fam. You take care of my baby girl. You know I’m good for it, baby. Just make sure she don’t want for anything,” Indie stated. “Put her on the phone. I can’t believe she don’t want to talk to me. What’s wrong with her, fam? A nigga need to hear her voice in here, nah mean? I thought I could do this bid without her, but I can’t, fam.”

Mekhi didn’t even offer YaYa the line before he responded, “She’s exhausted, duke. She walked damn near across town to get here, and she’s out of it from all of the drugs and bullshit they pumped into her system. The next time you call she’ll feel better. She’s not really talking to anybody. She’s just here…kind of a blank canvas.”

What Mekhi was saying was partially true, but he was laying it on extra thick.

“Take care of her for me. Put her up in a nice spot. I’ll figure out how to get some paper to you,” Indie said.

“Don’t worry about it, fam. The money is nothing,” he replied. “I’ll handle it.”

Indie wanted to take Khi-P’s words as truth, but the picture that he had seen with his own eyes contradicted what his ears were hearing. He was in a tough position. Khi-P was the only person he could ask to watch over YaYa in Houston. He would never put the burden on Chase because he knew of his family situation. Chase was taking care of a drug-addicted mother and keeping a watchful eye over Trina and the girls. Adding YaYa to his plate would be unfair, and it wasn’t his responsibility. Mekhi was the only other option. Indie only hoped that YaYa would hold him down.

“Mekhi…” Indie stated, his tone serious. “Respect me, duke. You slipped up once before. I know everything, my nigga. Don’t let it happen again.”

Mekhi knew a friendly threat when he heard one. He had no response for Indie, partly because he didn’t know what to say.

Indie didn’t need Khi-P to speak to know that he heard him. He left Mekhi with a dial tone in his ear.

Indie’s jaw tightened when he hung up the phone on Khi-P. Hearing YaYa answer Khi-P’s phone had him vexed. His imagination ran wild as he thought of his lady being with another man. Although he had told himself that he was done with her, he was still possessive of her. She would always be his. Even when he hated her, he couldn’t help but love her.

He wanted to tell himself that his team would remain loyal while he was locked down. He kept telling himself,
not YaYa
. She wouldn’t do that to him, not his lady, but the reality of the situation was that it could happen. It happened every day. Time stood still for no one, and a prison sentence made the inmate irrelevant.

Indie was far from stupid. There wasn’t a nigga in the world that could give him the okey-doke. Something was going on underneath his nose. Just because he was locked down didn’t mean he was out of the loop.

Just as quickly as he hung up the phone, he picked it back up to dial Chase. He didn’t need to be on the outside to see what was going on. He had eyes everywhere, and his intuition told him that the situation with Khi-P needed looking into.

When Mekhi hung up the phone, he turned to see YaYa waiting for answers. He could practically smell her loyalty to Indie. A slight twinge of envy filled him. YaYa was the perfect specimen of a woman. He had his work cut out for him if he wanted to snatch her.

“What did he say?” she asked, her voice shaky.

“Don’t worry about it, YaYa. His head ain’t right in there. He’s on some other shit. Give him time to cool down,” he said as he walked into the kitchen.

“What did he say, Mekhi? Tell me!” she said as she followed behind him, desperate for answers.

“He didn’t really say shit about you, ma,” Mekhi said, knowing that his indirect answers were killing YaYa.

“Mekhi!”

“He said he didn’t give a fuck about you. He was just calling to ask me to go check on Leah and to make sure that she and his baby are well taken care of,” Mekhi stated.

YaYa’s face fell, and her stomach dropped into her knees. She didn’t have a response for that. It was official. She was done. If she hadn’t been sure about it before, she most definitely was now. In an attempt to save face, she turned away from Khi-P so that he wouldn’t see the fresh emotion in her eyes.

He hated to see her hurting, but he had to break her down in order to build her back up. She was molded for Indie, and he wanted her molded for him. This was what it would take, and although he never wanted to see her cry, it was necessary.

He stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her body playfully as he lifted her from the floor.

“Stop, Khi!” she shouted, but then laughed hesitantly.

“Stop crying then. We don’t have time for all that. We’ve got some shopping to do, ma. You ain’t see all the paper I left for you? I don’t just do this for anybody. I went all out, ma,” he said with a smirk and a charming wink.

“What is all of this about?” she asked as she motioned to the money she had awoken to.

“I don’t do the rose petal thing, so I did money, scattered it everywhere, and it’s all for you. There’s fifty stacks for you to get fresh with. Buy yourself a new wardrobe,” he offered.

She shook her head. “Mekhi, clothes are the last of my worries right now. I need a house and a car. I have to find the bitch that killed my baby. I have to—”

“Relax,” Khi-P interrupted. “That’s all you have to do. You can put everything else in my hands. I’m not Indie. I won’t drop the ball.”

YaYa looked skeptically at Mekhi.

“Trust me.”

YaYa nodded, feeling as if she had no choice but to put her life in his hands. Houston was his neck of the woods. Without Indie, there was no one better to trust than Khi-P. He was the next best thing.

Khi-P escorted YaYa to the suburbs to shop, and it was like a relapse for her. She far exceeded the $50,000 that he had originally given her. As she passed through the designer shops, she blocked out everything and purchased all that was in sight, until her heart was content.

Khi-P spared no expense either. He went all out. He had something to prove. When he was done with YaYa, he wanted Indie to be a distant memory, a regret of the past, so he overcompensated just to please her. He enjoyed the attention that she got as her 7 For All Mankind jeans mesmerized both female and males alike. She was almost regal, ripping through the mall as if it were a runway. The Prada glasses she wore covered her sad, red eyes, and the Chanel bag made every girl in the shopping center green with envy.

On the outside, she looked so well put together, but on the inside, she was in turmoil.

As the day wrapped up and they were headed to the car, YaYa had spent well into the six figures. What she didn’t know was that she was spending Indie’s money. She had practically given Khi-P Indie’s bricks. She had put him on, so the shopping spree was nothing to him. He held open her door for her, and she sat down in his brand new Lamborghini. When he entered the car, he looked over at her.

“So, how about it, ma?” he asked.

She knew what he was asking of her. He wanted to be her man. What he was doing was nothing new. She couldn’t be bought. YaYa wasn’t for sale.

“I’m too empty to start anything with anyone, Khi. My situation with Indie is still too sloppy. The only thing I can offer you right now is my friendship. Wherever it goes from there is up to fate,” she said.

Club Aura was packed to its 2500-person capacity as YaYa tried to squeeze through the crowd. There was no denying that Khi-P was the man. He was Houston’s king, and flashy was an understatement. The world was his for the taking. He wanted everyone to know that he was sitting on top of the throne. The kingdom had been overthrown, and there was new management in town. No one knew exactly how Khi-P had gotten so large, but the boy was grand, and he was shitting on everyone with his status.

He had practically bought out the entire city. Young hustlers who were hesitant about switching teams were enticed with diamond tokens of Khi-P’s appreciation. Once he showed that there was money to be made, greed overrode loyalty. Khi-P had every get-money cat in Houston dealing with him, and every hoodrat in town trying to be down, but he had his sights set on one chick and one chick only—YaYa.

It wasn’t just her stunning looks that attracted him. It was YaYa’s previous association that was alluring to him. Everybody knew her as Indie’s. Khi-P wanted to take her. He wanted to give her a new title.

YaYa turned heads as she walked through the crowd. With the jewels that adorned her wrists, neck, and ears, she was blinding. Everything about her shined. She was a queen. Whether she had a king or not, her crown couldn’t be taken away. Every man in the room wanted a piece of her.

She walked up to VIP and saw Khi-P sitting back amongst his peers as they popped bottles. Chase, always on point, enjoyed his glass of cognac, but didn’t indulge in the theatrics. He sat back calmly in the booth, palming his drink with one hand while his other rested on his hip. He was never separated from his strap, and YaYa had to smile because she saw Indie’s demeanor all up and through the young boy. It was so obvious that Chase was Indie’s protégé. He had him down to a science.

She walked up to Khi-P, who stood and grabbed her hand as he made room for her in the booth. They weren’t officially “together,” but they were definitely more than friendly. Khi-P was taking claims, and no other hustler dared step to her. He was doing a lot of flirting and showing a lot of public displays of affection.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Chase, either. Two months had passed since Indie had asked him to gauge the situation, and he was beginning to see things he did not like. He knew that YaYa was staying with Khi-P and that things between her and Indie were rocky, but Khi was supposed to be loyal. He was supposed to hold Indie down.

Look like Duke is getting too comfortable with Indie’s bitch,
Chase thought as he took a sip from his drink.

Although Chase was getting mad money with Khi-P, he had a bad feeling that it was dirty money. Khi-P had come into a lot of product lately, and unbeknownst to Chase, it was Indie’s. He was suspicious of Khi-P’s sudden rise to power, and even more irritated by his overzealous affections toward his homie’s girl.

Chase wondered if YaYa was just naïve, or if she was simply foul. Their relationship crossed a line, and if things progressed, Chase would have no choice but to pull Indie’s coat tails.

Shits is just disrespectful,
Chase thought as he shook his head.

Khi-P was the new captain, but Chase couldn’t be his lieutenant if he thought that there was foul play. If Mekhi was a bad seed, he would contaminate the game, and Chase wasn’t having it. Dishonor was a trait that he despised, and any nigga that was around him had to be thorough. Things had run too smoothly under Indie’s watch, and Indie had been too good to him for Chase to let something like this go unnoticed.

Before Indie had taken him under his wing, Chase had been a flunky, an underappreciated young man who was in need of a come-up. Now he was sitting on a safe full of money and more respect than any of the young men who used to punk him before. Now he was the gatekeeper, and he helped to determine who got money and who didn’t. Coincidentally, everyone who used to give him a hard time was either dead or locked outside the gate. There was no way he would let old adversaries board his cocaine train.

As he looked around at the plush nightclub, everyone was having a good time. There was only one person missing. The man who had started it all, Indie, was locked behind bars, but no one seemed to notice his absence, not even YaYa. Liquor flowed freely, and the celebration was live, as if he were sitting there amongst the crowd too.

Fucked up. The game don’t love nobody. Chew ya up and spit ya out,
he thought, realizing that this was not a forever profession. He had to get the dough and get out.

He noticed YaYa sitting by the bar, and he made his way across the room to her.

She smiled when he neared her.

“All eyes are on you, ma,” he said as he kissed her left cheek.

YaYa graciously nodded as she replied, “There’s not much to look at. I’m just out trying to get my mind off of things.”

The eight weeks that had passed hadn’t healed any of her scars. Chase could see the sadness in her eyes.

“You been good?” he asked. “Indie has been asking about you. I’m going up to see him next week. You should make that trip with me. I know he’d want to see you.”

YaYa shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. “Can we just change the subject?” she asked. “I’m not trying to see him. We don’t have much to say to one another.”

“He has a lot to say, YaYa. You might want to find the time to listen and watch the way you move. The way that you and Khi-P acting might get people thinking the wrong thing,” Chase said.

YaYa looked across the room and noticed Khi-P watching her. He lifted his glass of Dom to acknowledge them.

“It doesn’t matter what people think, Chase. It is what it is,” she replied. “I’m not looking back to Indie. I can’t even begin to explain how that man hurt me.”

Chase watched her walk away and knew that he had the burden of being the bearer of bad news. Indie had to know what was going on. YaYa was vulnerable. Her entire life had changed in the blink of an eye, so Chase couldn’t fault her. Any type of affection was enticing to YaYa after what she had been through, but Khi-P knew better. There was no excusing his actions. There was nothing worse than disloyalty. If Khi-P was bold enough to court YaYa, he had no code. There would be no limit to what he would do. If he was willing to sleep with his man’s chick, then he would be willing to turn snitch if and when the time ever came.

As Chase watched Khi-P wrap his arm around YaYa’s shoulder, he gritted his teeth. He would definitely be making the drive to see Indie. As he gripped his waistline, he felt the burner that he had concealed on his hip. He was about his gunplay, and he wasn’t above laying his murder game down on Khi-P if the time ever came.

YaYa was lit by the time she left the club. Khi-P had bought out the bar in his attempt to prove that the city had a new dictator. Usually her conscience talked her out of becoming intimate with Khi-P, but tonight she was too drunk to care. Her body was on fire. For months she hadn’t felt a man’s touch. She was tired of suffering. It was time for her to experience satisfaction. Her actions were wrong, but she was tired of hurting. All YaYa wanted was to feel good again. She desperately needed Khi-P to take her away to another place, a place of bliss, even if it was only a temporary getaway.

As YaYa waited for Khi-P to enter the room, a funny feeling filled the pit of her stomach. She almost wanted to vomit. A part of her was sick at what she was about to do.

This is so foul. Indie doesn’t deserve this. He didn’t know about Leah, but I know that Khi-P is his peoples,
she thought, trying to reason with herself. She pushed the thoughts to the back of her mind as she convinced herself that she was doing the right thing. Although she was mad at Indie, she still felt a sense of loyalty to him. She wanted to get even more than anything. It wasn’t the fact that he had been with another woman that hurt. She had come to Houston with that knowledge. It wasn’t like he had lied about that, but the fact that the other woman was Leah was crushing.

She shook her head from side to side as she mulled over her circumstances. It was true: life really was a bitch.

Some things just have to be done,
she thought.

Mekhi entered the room, still tipsy from their night of partying. He was really relishing the idea of being boss, and now that YaYa had come around, he was sitting on a throne so high not even God could reach him. He was untouchable—the kid to see. If a bitch didn’t like him, she had to be gay, or so he thought. His ego was that inflated.

As he walked over to her, he held a bottle of rosé wine in his hand. He drank straight from the bottle as he looked at her through lust-filled eyes.

“How you feel, ma? You a’ight?” he asked as he noticed the uncertainty in her stare.

She could barely look him in the eyes as she thought of what she was about to do. It wouldn’t be pretty. She was taking the biggest risk of her life, making the ultimate sacrifice. Mekhi had no idea the thoughts that were racing through her mind. She was ready to back out, but felt that she was in too deep. It was now or never, sink or swim. It was time for YaYa to shit or get off the toilet.

She nodded toward the bottle in his hand. “You sharing?” she asked.

“With you, ma, whatever. I can give you whatever,” he said.

“Are you sure about that?” she asked with a coy smile.

“I’m positive. My paper too long to short you on anything,” he bragged.

YaYa had to admit that his arrogance was slightly attractive. It turned her on to know that he was so drawn to her. She was flattered. There was something intriguing about a rich nigga—not a rich man, but a gun-toting, tattoo-riddled, hood-respected, rich nigga. When a man could have his choice of any woman and he chooses you, it makes you feel like a queen, and Disaya Morgan had been chosen twice; once by Indie, and now Khi-P was voicing his intentions. He was trying to throw his hat in the ring. Now she had to decide if she was looking for a new contender.

The weight of Khi-P’s body caused the luxurious bed to sink in slightly as butterflies filled her stomach. His expensive cologne enveloped her, causing her womanhood to contract in pleasure. There was nothing like a good-smelling man.

YaYa tensed up from his touch. His fingertips were foreign to her. Her nerve endings knew Indie’s embrace. Khi-P was something new, something different, not even close to being comparable to Indie; but at least he was there. If Khi-P thought he would fill Indie’s shoes, he was mistaken. It was simply the timing. He was in the right place at the right time.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked as he kissed her collarbone.

YaYa fixed her mouth to say no, but instead she nodded yes as he skillfully caressed the nape of her neck while planting kisses on her cheek. She wasn’t looking to make love, however. She wanted Khi-P to fill a void, to fulfill a physical desire.

She maneuvered herself so that she was in control and straddled him. Flashes of Indie popped into her mind, but she forced him out. Life had taken her and Indie in two completely different directions. He had disappointed her in the worst way. She knew that Leah had been the manipulating force behind it all, but it hurt all the same. It didn’t matter who initiated what. All she knew was that Indie was no longer hers and that Leah was responsible for dismantling her life and killing her daughter. Payback was all she wanted, and in a way, sleeping with Mekhi was get-back for Indie becoming involved with Leah.

So, as she slid down on top of Mekhi, she rode her way, all the way to ecstasy…and the entire time, tears of regret fell down her face. There was no turning back now. The book of Indie had ended. She had just closed the last chapter. It was time to weave a new story for her life, and this tale would be filled with nothing but retribution.

Khi-P had stalled each time she had asked him to help her find Leah, but now he wouldn’t be able to refuse her. If he wanted YaYa, that was the price he would have to pay.

Chase already knew that once he opened his mouth, things would get hectic, and as he sat in the waiting room of the prison, he was fully prepared for Indie’s reaction. The messenger was always the bad guy, but if he didn’t tell Indie, no one ever would.

Khi-P had Indie looking like a clown. He was on an ego trip and was publicly courting YaYa to denounce Indie’s reign over the streets. They had all gotten money together, so his succession wasn’t unexpected. It was the disrespect that was out of order. He could have picked any chick in Houston to take up time with. YaYa was clearly off limits. Chase and every other hustler in town knew that and dared not cross the line. Khi-P was making himself the exception to the rule because he thought that Indie couldn’t touch him. What he didn’t know was that Indie’s reach was long. There wasn’t a jail in the world that could hold him. Life was a game of chess, and Indie had conquered it all before the age of twenty-five. If he wanted to move, he had pawns that were more than willing to do it on his behalf.

When Indie emerged through the security door, Chase stood to greet him. The few months that he had been locked down had really changed Indie. There was something about his spirit that had diminished. Before his arrest, the love of a woman had kept him strong, but since parting ways with YaYa, he had become introverted in an attempt to conceal his strife from the world.

The two men embraced before they sat down.

“How you holding up?” Chase asked.

“It’s not your job to worry about me, fam. You’re my young wolf, my shooter. How are you holding up? You holding things down out there? Your paper up?” he asked.

“I’m good. Paper’s nice, you know. Khi put me on, gave me a little bonus or whatnot…but you can’t buy loyalty. I’m on that real nigga shit, nah mean?” he asked. “And your boy…he ain’t real. He ain’t built like us. Shit is starting to stink around him, if you get my drift.”

Indie knew that Chase was subtly trying to warn him about Khi-P, but he wasn’t for deciphering riddles. “Speak your mind, fam. You don’t gotta sugarcoat it. What’s good?”