The Versace League (4 page)

             
Jessica stood silently in shock. Yamin just practically admitted to her that he deceived her on purpose, and actually said it as if it was okay and that she was just going to accept it. She took in a deep breath and gathered her nerve to say something, anything, make an argument, but nothing came to mind. Maybe it was the fact that Cortez was dead and Yamin was hurting that she didn’t have anything to say. She was truly stunned into silence.

             
“Look, when this is all settled and done and if you’re still around then I promise I will sit down and explain everything to you. Right now, I gotta get back home.”

             
Jessica nodded her head in understanding. She moved from where she was standing and helped Yamin get their things together. She didn’t know if she wanted to leave or stay. All she knew was that she loved Yamin and he had given her a reason to keep breathing. Even then she could only think about what else he’d lied about, what else is was hiding?

             
The Versace League.
She would definitely do more research once they were home.

TEAM HER OR HER

Donica sat on her sofa rocking back and forth as a detective of the Dallas Police Department questioned her about the murder that took place yesterday evening. Tears burned her sleepless eyes and an overwhelming amount of emotions ran through her. She was beyond hurt and felt really alone. The only family she had was Cortez and Ashley. Her mother passed away from cancer a few years ago and her father was in prison. She didn't have anyone to comfort her and let her know that everything was going to be okay.

    
             
  "You say he came over at what time?" Detective Anderson asked.

     
             
Donica stopped rocking and looked up at the detective. She had become frustrated with his mound of questions the moment they started. It seemed as if he was making accusations rather than trying to get to the bottom of things.

     
             
"I told you he came here around three that afternoon," Donica said, and stood to her feet. She crossed her arms over her chest and caught the eyes of Cortez's girlfriend Patrice. Donica could see that Patrice hung onto her every word as if she was mentally taking notes. She didn't even want Patrice in her home, but respected the fact that she came with Cortez's brother Aasir. Patrice didn’t even look to be hurting by Cortez's death or Ashley's disappearance--she only seemed angry and that bothered Donica.

   
             
Why the fuck this bitch ain't crying?
Donica thought. She held her hand up in the detective's face to silence his next question. "Look, I've been answering the same questions over and over again. I'm done. I need you to get out there and find Cort's killer- the same person that killed him is the same person that took our daughter!"

    
             
  Donica was over the whole fiasco. There were police officers going in and out of her house, whispering about this and about that, and none of them made her feel comfortable. Just as she was about to force everyone out of her home, Yamin walked in, and everything seemed to come to a halt. The chatter paused as every eye ran over him. Some knew who he was, some didn't, but everyone gave him the respect he demanded.

             
“Donica-baby girl,” Yamin said, solemnly. He wrapped his arms around Donica and allowed her to break down. She’d been holding back her emotions not wanting to seem weak in front of others, but now that the man that resembled Cortez so much was in front of her, she couldn’t hold it in. She suddenly felt something she assumed she would never feel again. Safe. She knew that Yamin would make everything okay. He always did. How could she forget that?

             
“I’m so glad-that you’re here. I feel so much better seeing you,” Donica cried.

             
Yamin nodded, he placed a kiss on her forehead, and lifted her head so that they could look each other in the eyes as he spoke, “You got any idea of who done this?” he asked. “I need to know who did this to my youngn’.”

             
Donica shook her head and noticed that Detective Anderson was burning holes into her. She’d already told him that she didn’t catch the guy’s face, but knew that he drove a red Chevy Suburban. She hadn’t been lying, but she could tell that the detective felt like she was holding something back.

             
“I don’t know-” Donica started to say, but was cut off with a slap in her face.

             
“Dumb ass bitch! You had this shit done to him! You staged this shit!” Patrice screamed, throwing insidious accusations at her. She had a strong grip around Donica’s 18 inches of weave and did everything in her power to pull every bit of it out. She was well aware that Donica was very bitter about her break up with Cortez and that she tried every trick in the book to get him back.

             
To her this had been as low as someone could go, but she wasn’t giving Donica the benefit of the doubt. Patrice could see through the fake tears that had magically appeared on Donica’s face when the right person was looking at her. She wasn’t crying when Aasir and she was watching, but suddenly she was overwhelmed in tears when Yamin showed up. Patrice could see past her tricks.

             
“You get your baby daddy killed because you can’t have him and then you fake a fuckin’ kidnapping! Bitch kill yourself!” Patrice threw at her.

             
“Hey! Hey! Hey! Somebody get her the fuck out of here!” Yamin yelled. He placed his body in between the two and used all the strength he had to loosen the grip that Patrice had on Donica’s hair. He wondered why the detectives, the police, or somebody wasn’t doing anything to help him. “Get her out of here!”

             
“Get me out of here! That’s my man that’s laying on a cold fuckin’ table right now! This bitch had him setup and you know it Yamin! How the fuck you gonna give her your condolences, but don’t say shit to me?” Patrice asked in disbelief. Her North Philly accent was deep and was even more evident when she was mad.

             
“This ain’t the time or the place Patrice! Let go and get your muthafuckin’ ass up out of here!” Yamin commanded.

             
Patrice released the grip on Donica’s hair and slowly backed away. The pain she was feeling was obviously breaking her down and causing her to act in a manner that she would not have otherwise. Donica and she were two totally different people. Donica was brought up in the hood and had only moved out some years ago when Cortez started getting money. To Patrice she was a ghetto hood rat with no class.

             
Patrice on the other hand was born in the hood, but was quickly uprooted to the suburbs when she was ten. She had become used to money and only kept the company of those that could afford the things that she could. She loved everything about Cortez, but the thought of him being with Donica disgusted her.

             
“Aasir, get her the fuck out of here!” Yamin looked to his brother wondering why he hadn’t moved. This was not the time or the place for any confrontation and he wanted Patrice out of there. He didn’t even know why she was there in the first place. She was only Cortez’s girl, not his fiancé, or his wife. Only the family needed to be there and he didn't care what Patrice's status was in Cortez's life, she had to go.

          "Come on Trice. Let me get you to the house," Aasir said. He pulled on her arm and got nothing but resistance. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her from the floor to carry her out of the house. Everyone was staring, watching as Patrice made a fool of herself. She kicked and screamed as Aasir carried her out as if she had been a toddler throwing a tantrum. She hated Yamin for this. She felt she had a right to be there just as everyone else did.

     
             
"Put me down! I can walk on my own!" Patrice yelled once they were outside. She began to walk towards the car and then froze upon seeing the puddle of blood that sat in the driveway next to Cortez's car. Immediately her insides ran cold. She felt so lost and so unloved now that Cortez was no longer alive. For the first time in a very long time, she was scared. She sniffled and ran her fingers across her nose. No one seemed to care that she was hurting or that she had suffered a loss as well.

    
             
  "You know that I loved him right, Aasir?" she asked once he opened the car door for her.

   
             
   "Yea I know ma. Don't even trip. You know how Yamin is," Aasir shut her door and went around to the driver's side. He didn't agree with Yamin making Patrice leave and knew that he was just being spiteful. Everyone knew his feelings towards Patrice was everything short of love since he didn't agree with Cortez leaving his family to be with a gold digger. To Yamin, Patrice only loved Cortez's bank account and nothing more. Her adoration was spiked by money and it was her only reason for sticking by his side. He didn’t care what came out of her mouth, he knew her kind.

      
             
Aasir turned the volume up on his Maserati and sped away from the curb. His mind was laced with evil thoughts. He hadn't had time to process the death of his little brother yet. When he'd received the call from Donica, he had instantly gone numb. He was only 21 years old and had lost plenty of homeboys but this was different, he and Cort was just 11 months apart and undoubtedly close. They did everything together from the time they were kids up until the day that Cortez had died. His loss was huge, but he couldn’t allow it to break him down now. Yamin would need him and their sister Aucelie would need him. He had to stay strong for them, and wait until it was his time to grieve.

TO LEAVE OR TO GO...

Yamin leaned back in his chair and stared out the
window watching the rain as it fell from the sky. It was almost as if the sky was crying as much as he was. He felt so lost. Every time he tried to focus, he would hear Cortez’s laugh, or he would see his smile. A huge piece of him was missing and inwardly he felt dark. His mood matched that of Mother Nature, cloudy, dark, and weary.

             
He took a sip of the dark liquor, and then brought the tip of the blunt to his mouth. Yamin hadn’t slept in three days. His mind was too preoccupied to rest with all the thoughts that he was forced to deal with. He hadn’t spoken to anyone since leaving Donica’s house the evening he’d returned to Dallas. He sent Jessica to be with her to help her get through this tragic time and he’d stayed locked up in his office trying to process everything. Weed and liquor had been the only thing he’d consumed and he couldn’t even remember if he’d taken a minute to shower. He was truly fucked up.

             
“You get your baby daddy killed because you can’t have him and then you fake a fuckin’ kidnapping! Bitch kill yourself!”
Patrice’s words rang through his head. Yamin wondered if an ounce of what Patrice said was even true. He’d known Donica since they were in their early teens and knew that she loved Cortez no matter how he’d done her. But at the same time, he still considered the fact that Donica was a woman scorned and a broken heart would do anything to ease its pain.

             
DING DONG! DING DONG! DING DONG!

             
Yamin didn’t even move at the sound of the doorbell ringing. In fact, it had been going off for the past few days along with his phone, but he ignored them both. He didn’t want to be bothered with anyone or even life for that matter. Taking a puff on the weed, he slouched down even further in his seat and downed the remainder of the liquor. More tears began to slide down his face as more memories of Cortez filled him.
             

             
He decided to stand up and actually do something with his self when he went crashing into the wall. The glass shattered causing a deep cut in the palm of his hand. He groaned and tried to stand to his feet but his legs were too weak to hold him.

             
“Oh my God, Yamin! Manny-Emmanuel, he’s in here!” Jessica yelled out. She rushed into the office and attempted to pull him off the floor, but he only fell back down.

             
Emmanuel ran into the office on high alert with his pistol pulled ready to fire. He and his brother had been ordered to watch out for Jessica and Donica, but after coming by here day after day to check on Yamin and getting no answer they began to worry. They almost kicked the door down earlier, but knew that in the neighborhood they were in, the police would be there within minutes. They decided to bring Jessica to open the door for them and good thing that they did.

             
“Damn, Ya! Nigga, when the last time you took a shower? Fuck!” Emmanuel asked, complaining of the odor that seeped from Yamin’s body. “Knew we shouldn’t have left this nigga alone. Yo, Manny, get your ass in here and help me get this nigga up the stairs!”

             
“Here, let me help you,” Jessica interjected.