Young-Minded Hustler (22 page)
Read Young-Minded Hustler Online
Authors: Tysha
“What da fuck?” Roberts began to panic.
“Do you feel that shit? It's off the hook and it'll be the last hit you ever take,” Vanilla said with a huge grin.
Blood started gushing from his nose onto the floor. Roberts looked into Vanilla's eyes, pleading for help. Vanilla laughed at him.
“I have a message for you, Keith Roberts. The McGee family says you should tell Silk they sent their love. I'm also supposed to tell you that Melvin wins from the grave again.” Vanilla exited through the back door, leaving Roberts to suffer his excruciating death alone.
The cocaine was mixed with finely ground shards of glass and gun powder. Once Roberts introduced the mix into his body his fate was set. Everything in its path was cut by the glass as the fatal mix entered his system. It was a slow and painful way to die. Just the way Shy felt her husband's killer and son's tormentor deserved to leave the earth, on a slow ride to hell.
Shy watched the twins sleep in their hospital beds as she walked Princess to sleep when she received the text she'd been waiting to receive: One-way departure left on time. She slept in the same position all night. It was her best full night's rest in seven years.
Chapter 33
Worst Day Ever
Cherise listened intently to Raequan's phone conversation. From what she could gather, payback had finally caught up with Melvin's killer. If anyone deserved a painful demise, Cherise felt Roberts topped the list. Raequan made a statement that gave Cherise cause to pause. She wondered if Prince was behind Roberts's untimely death or if Shy had finally found the balls to take care of him herself. Seven years to wait for retribution was ridiculous in Cherise's opinion, especially when the resources were at your fingertips. If C-Lok were her brother, Roberts would've been six feet under the day after he pulled the trigger on Melvin. One of the things that aggravated Cherise about Shy was her habit of overthinking every move she made. Cherise lived by the “just do it” mantra.
Raequan had left his mother in the dark about his continued affiliation with Roberts. She was clueless to the fact that he had remained involved with Roberts even after his release from juvenile hall. Cherise reached for her laptop and searched for details about Roberts's death. Her search netted multiple results. There it was in black and white, confirmation of the cause of death: a drug overdose. Roberts was an arrogant, holier-than-thou alcoholic drug addict who'd earned the type of death he suffered, in Cherise's opinion.
“That fool is weak as hell.” Raequan laughed as he got up from the table.
“Did he say what happened?” Cherise asked as if she didn't already know the answer.
“That asshole Roberts got a hit of some pure white girl and it took him out. Fuck him, dat nigga had it comin',” Raequan spat.
Raequan and Cherise had yet to discuss his true paternity. Cherise was ashamed about the situation and couldn't find the right words to explain the situation to her son. She knew she had to tell Raequan her side of the story before B-Boy did. He would make sure she came out looking like a whore in the habit of taking on two men at a time. There was much more to the story that Cherise wanted her son to understand. How does that conversation get started?
“Yeah, he did, and such is life.” Cherise squirmed in her seat.
“Whatever, man, I got some runs to make so I'll get up with you later.”
“Rae, we need to talk.”
“No, we don't, man. Ain't shit to talk about,” Raequan said, annoyed.
“I know you have some questions about Boy not being your real dad. We have to talk about it,” Cherise said with a shaky voice.
Raequan turned to face Cherise with a scowl on his face. By the look in his eyes, Cherise could see the weight of the hate and anger he carried in his heart. She wanted so bad to reach out and hold her son in her arms. They faced each other as if in a standoff. Her eyes welled with tears; his scowl became more pronounced.
“No, we don't,” Raequan responded and slammed the door behind him, leaving Cherise alone with her quilt and shame.
Cherise knew Raequan wasn't the only person she owed an explanation. She had stayed away from Shy to give her time to calm down. Truth be told, Cherise was scared as hell of Shy. Cherise already knew what it was. Whenever Shy grew quiet about circumstances that called for an emotion other than anger, it was best to pull back and give her all the time she needed to deal. Shy had every right to feel betrayed, hurt, angry, and vengeful. Cherise was scared of how those feelings would manifest themselves. Cherise had been trying to figure out an explanation Shy would understand. How could she possibly justify bearing a child fathered by her best friend's husband? The secret was never meant to be uncovered. It was a shame Cherise intended to carry to her grave. How could she have been so stupid? Letting Raequan be tested as a possible donor was reckless on her part. Not once did Cherise think about DNA being part of the process.
In spite of their feelings about each other, Cherise loved Shy's kids, including Prince. Jayden was always excited to be around her and that made Cherise feel special and loved. Jayden was the child she'd hoped Raequan would emulate. The environment in which his parents had raised him pushed Raequan out to the streets in search of approval and attention. Maybe things would've turned out differently had Cherise been honest about his paternity at the time of his birth. Cherise shook her head of more thoughts of shoulda-woulda-coulda's. There was no point wishing for a different past. Chasing after the impossible had filled her life with chaos.
From the beginning of their teenage love affairs, Cherise envied the way Melvin loved and respected Shy. He opened doors for her, bought her gifts, and let the streets know he had love for her in his heart. Melvin did everything Shy wanted and anything he had to do when it meant keeping her happy. She had done the same for him, even when Melvin's flaws surfaced. His love for Shy didn't keep him from breaking her heart a handful of times. Even during those heart-wrenching times, Melvin and Shy never stopped loving each other. When their relationship was good, they kept falling in love. The two of them had an unbreakable connection, even in death. There were times when Cherise hated them both for having what she'd never possess. B-Boy had shown his love by beating her half to death. Believing it was all she deserved, Cherise settled with his selfish and brutal love.
In reality, Cherise slept with Melvin wanting a taste of Shy's life. The ménages à trois had gone down three times in a ten-year span. Melvin was a willing participant only one of those times. Cherise was in on getting Melvin so high that he'd black out. After the night of high school graduation, Melvin vowed it would never happen again. He knew sleeping with his girlfriend's best friend had crossed a few lines. Shy would have every right to never forgive him if she found out. That's what Cherise had to let Shy know. Shy could hate her but she owed it to Melvin to set things straight. He never knew Raequan was his or that the possibility even existed.
Running late, Cherise drove as fast as she could to make her meeting on time. Cherise was relieved to find the parking lot empty when she arrived. She was meeting with her drug connection to negotiate new prices and re-up. Prince had snatched a lot of customers from her when he defected. Cherise was forced to lower the amount of weight she usually copped. Her supplier was not happy. Neither was she; her wallet was feeling the pain and that affected her livelihood.
Cherise turned on her car alarm and headed to the café's back door. What she saw caused her to pause as she went to put the key in the deadbolt lock. Something wasn't right. The door was off its hinges and the frame was busted. Her heart began to race. Cherise pushed the door out of the way and entered the kitchen area of the establishment. She'd been robbed. All of her equipment had been vandalized. It would cost her a small fortune to replace the industrial-sized stove, refrigerator, and small appliances. Cherise was speechless. Her mind went blank. She couldn't figure out how anyone got in; the alarm system should have stopped them in their tracks. As she looked at the clutter, Cherise walked slowly toward her office. There was no way anyone could've found her safe or stash spot. When she reached the room, Cherise quickly discovered that she was wrong. Files were scattered about, her desk and cabinets turned over. The room was almost unrecognizable. A chill rushed up her spine as she covered her mouth to prevent the scream from echoing throughout the room. The safe was standing wide open and empty. The trap door leading to the basement was standing open. She rushed down the stairs to find her stash was gone. Whoever was behind the robbery had taken her out with one shot. They had gotten away with thirty kilos of pure heroin and seventeen packages of cocaine. Cherise had made the mistake of storing all of her money in one place. There had been over $200,000 in the safe. She felt like a victim. Tears streamed down her face. Her entire life had spun out of control. The business was out of commission, her best friend wanted her dead, and she'd been thrust into debt with her connect.
“Damn, Cherise, it looks like somebody got you.”
Cherise nearly jumped out of her skin. She'd forgotten all about the meeting. Now she had to figure out how to explain that his money and product were gone along with her own. She had no means to recover the loss.
Life is a miserable bitch,
thought Cherise.
Life is a miserable bitch,
thought Cherise.
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That morning when Cherise climbed out of bed, she was ill prepared for the day ahead. She was in financial ruins and had nowhere to turn. Every dime to her name was in that thief-proof safe. There was insurance on the business but the payout would only be a small percentage of what Cherise owed her connect. Cherise was stuck. By the time she finally made it home Cherise was emotionally drained. Unable to muster up the energy to walk into her house from the garage, Cherise sat in her car and cried. Her entire life had rolled downhill at lightning speed. There was no point asking why it had happened to her because she already knew the answer: karma was a bitch. She had done a lot of wrong in her life and it had all come back around 360 degrees.
She grabbed her purse from the back seat and walked into her home. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from all the crying. There had been a few times when Cherise caught herself picking up her cell to call Shy. If ever she needed a friend, it was at that time. Since the truth about Raequan's paternity was revealed Cherise had become a pariah. Bossy, Aisha, and even Terry had abandoned her. Cherise could hardly blame them. If the tides were reversed, she wouldn't trust her either.
Cherise threw her purse on the kitchen counter and was startled by a loud noise in the front room. “Rae, is that you?” Cherise went to the sink and splashed cold water on her face. She hadn't bothered to call her son about the break-in and robbery. There was nothing he could do and she needed time to figure out her next move before involving him. Cherise called out to Raequan a second time when she got no response the first time. “Raequan, come here, I need to tell you something.”
“We ain't Raequan, bitch,” said a masked man.
For the second time that day, Cherise felt frightened.
“Oh my God! What do you want?” Cherise cried out.
The masked intruder stormed toward Cherise and began brutally beating her where she stood. Blood gushed from her mouth and nose. Cherise was thrown to the floor and stomped on. There was nothing she could do to defend herself. The .25 revolver she carried was in her purse on the counter. She didn't have a chance. The assault seemed to go on forever. At a point, the pain was so unbearable that she prayed for death. Whoever the man was robbing her of the security everyone should have in their own home, he was careful not to take her life. Cherise was supposed to suffer. By the time it was over, Cherise couldn't move or scream for help. She lay on the kitchen floor while her house was ransacked and trashed. A mix of tears and blood pooled beneath her head.
Cherise's vision was blurred by an overhead light. Someone had turned on the kitchen light, finally discovering Cherise's battered body. It was a neighbor who saw her front door standing wide open. The police and ambulance soon followed. Even with help and medical attention, Cherise continued to pray for death.
Chapter 34
Before I Let Go
Quincy returned home from his college visits with mixed feelings. For as long as he could remember, he and Jayden had planned on attending college together. With the current circumstances, Jayden would not be leaving home anytime in the near future. The bullet that seared through his body altered their plans. Quincy felt survivor's guilt. The realization that he could have easily been laid up in the hospital next to his cousin was overwhelming. He found it difficult to keep the shooting off his mind.
Though his mother's reaction would be over the top, Quincy knew once he shared his intentions with her, she was going to explode. Tara was sitting alone in the family room reading a book. Things between mother and son had been tense since Quincy overheard her telephone conversation bashing Shy. Tara had tried to move past it but Quincy seemed reluctant to do so. Tara had no idea how bad things were with her son, but she was about to find out.
“Ma, we need to talk,” Quincy announced as he sat across the room from his mother.
Tara could see the seriousness in Quincy's eyes. She inhaled deeply and braced herself for the conversation.
“Sure, how's your shoulder feeling?” Tara asked nervously.
He ignored her question and got right to the point.
“I want to put off going to college until the twins are well enough for Jayden to leave with me,” Quincy explained.
“What? You can't be serious. Why would you put your future on hold for anyone?”
“It was always my intent to attend school with Jayden, you know that. He just had major surgery and is going to need time to heal. Prince isn't strong enough to help Aunt Shy take care of Jayden so I'm going to do it.” Quincy frowned.
“Look, I know you love your cousins but there's no way your dad and I will back you on this,” Tara said loud and dismissively.
Quincy wasn't surprised by his mother's reaction. He expected her to yell and go off the deep end.
“Jayden would do the same for me. I'm not saying that college is out the picture. I can enroll in Kent State and take classes online or at their local campus. After a year, I can transfer to a university but for now, I'm staying.”
“You'll do what I say you're going to do. You keep in mind that being with your cousins is what got you shot. I can't believe you still want to associate with them,” Tara said, frustrated.
“Ma, the twins aren't some childhood friends. They're my family and I'd never turn my back on them.”
Quincy was outdone by his mother's attitude. It was as if she had no loyalty to anyone but herself. He doubted that keeping him away from the twins had anything to do with the shooting. Quincy was convinced it was all about his mother's relationship with her sister.
“You haven't thought this through. As long as you're living in this house and dependent on us, you will be sticking with your original plans whether Jayden is with you or not,” Tara threatened with attitude. “He's not your responsibility.”
“I'm going to live with Aunt Shy,” Quincy jabbed effortlessly.
Tara was sure she'd heard her son wrong. Did he just say he was going to live with Shy? Would he really leave home to be with Shy? She was hurt and angry simultaneously. Quincy had been acting different since the shooting. He was withdrawn and despondent. Tara had spoken with her husband about sending Quincy to a psychologist. Bruce thought it might've been a good idea but wanted Quincy to make the decision on what happened in his life. He knew Quincy was mature enough to know that asking for help was not a sign of weakness but one of strength. Tara knew she should have taken Quincy but like always, she'd relented to Bruce's decision. This desire to live with Shy had to be a sign of post-traumatic stress.
“No, you are not,” Tara said and stood up from the rocking chair.
“Yeah, Ma, I am. Aunt Shy's going to need help and I want to be there for her. As far as depending on you to help with school, I'm good.” Quincy also stood up.
“What do you mean, you're good?”
“I know there's not enough money in my college fund to pay for school. If the money is available I wouldn't be applying for grants and loans. I'm not stupid, Ma.”
“I never said you were, Quincy, but you're about to cross the line.”
“Uncle C said he'll pay for me to go to college. He's going to take care of tuition, housing, and anything else I need. Unc said all I have to do is concentrate on school and making it out of here. There's nothing you can say to keep me from helping out with the twins, either,” Quincy said defiantly. He was ready to counter every excuse. His mother was right; he was already on the verge of disrespecting Tara if she pushed things too far.
“Just who do my brother and sister think they are? You're my son, not theirs. They have no right to interfere with what goes on in my house. I'm sick of them both,” Tara fumed. She was jealous that C-Lok had the means to pay for Quincy to go to a top HBCU and angry that Quincy would rather be with Shy than with her. From Tara's point of view, her siblings' lives were easy. They didn't worry about money but she did daily. Melvin had spoiled Shy with material items, support, friendship, and love consistently. Tara so desperately wanted that in her own marriage. Tara resented Shy for having had the life she should've been living. Her union had been drained of its love years ago. All she had was her son and now he was trying to walk away.
“They're family and are looking out for me. It doesn't matter because I'm going to stay with Aunt Shy for a year or so until Jayden can leave. I already have my own room over there anyway. Aunt Shy said it was okay.”
“Shy should've found out if this plan is okay with me. She's been trying to keep you from me all your life and I'm sick of it,” Tara said, throwing her hands up. “This is my fault. I let you spend too much time with them.”
Quincy struggled to understand his mother. He had substituted the twins for the brothers he never had. They were the same age and got along well. Shy often joked that she'd had triplets not twins. She never kept Quincy away from his cousins. The McGee family enjoyed having Quincy around, that's why he had his own room in their home. Tara had allowed him to spend his time at Shy's house. That's why her attitude left him bewildered.
There was far too much going on around him and Quincy needed a break. He also needed to do something for Jayden. The questions of “what if” and “why not” played in Quincy's mind like a scratched compact disk. Quincy believed he could quiet the haunting questions by being instrumental in Jayden's recovery. He was determined to do as much as he could to get the twins healthy. His parents had to understand his plight. Quincy had approached his dad about the idea three days ago. With very little hesitation, Bruce gave Quincy his okay. He saw the helplessness in his son's eyes. Bruce hoped Quincy would be able to heal by taking care of Prince and Jayden. The only stipulation was for Quincy to get his mother to go along with his plan.
Quincy was torn. His mind was made up; he would be moved by the end of the day. There wasn't a thing Tara could do or say to change Quincy's mind. While he loved his parents, Quincy just wasn't happy with their life. He saw less of his father, who was hardly ever home. Quincy use to be embarrassed by the outward signs of affection between his parents. Lately, they barely spoke and never touched. Instead of waiting on her husband hand and foot, Tara's time was passed by phone conversations or playing online poker. The way his parents interacted had deteriorated so that Quincy could see the breakup looming in the near future. Quincy wondered if they'd stayed together for his sake. If that were the case, Quincy didn't want the weight on his shoulders.
“This argument is futile because your father will never approve of you living with Shy,” Tara said, feeling victorious.
“Dad gave me his permission three days ago,” Quincy countered, standing firm with his position.
She was shocked. Bruce hadn't said anything to her about Quincy wanting to leave home. She was angry with his failure to discuss this serious issue with her. He was added to Tara's list of untrustworthy people.
Tara wanted to embrace her son and tell him how much love she held in her heart for him. The only time she showed affection was during the honeymoon period with her husband. It was difficult to give hugs and express her love. Quincy hadn't received many hugs, positive reinforcements, or affirmation from his mother. He'd received those things from Shy and for that, Tara was resentful. She hadn't meant to be coldhearted; it was a defense mechanism from childhood.
“Look, Ma, Aunt Shy has always been good to me. You know how I feel about Jayden and Prince,” Quincy said.
“Why doesn't Jayden move in here with us? I'll take care of him and Shy can take care of Prince. That will take a huge load off Shy and you can stay here. This way, everybody will be happy,” Tara said excitedly.
Tara took pause. For a fleeting second, she was excited to believe Shy would see the logic in Jayden convalescing with her. He would be well taken care of by someone who loved him and Shy could focus on Prince. That's the way it should've always been, according to Tara.
“My mind is made up. After the way you've treated her Aunt Shy's not going for that. What do you have against her?”
“It's going to work as long as Shy listens to reason. Anyway, she can't play nursemaid to two sick kids, take care of a little girl, and work a full-time job,” Tara mindlessly uttered.
“Ma, you aren't even speaking. Did you forget about what happened at the hospital? Aunt Shy's not going with that. Look, Ma, I'm moving in with her so she won't be alone.”
Quincy was tired of going back and forth on the topic. It was getting them nowhere. He picked up his over-packed duffle bag and put it on his good shoulder.
“My sister is not your responsibility. Why does everybody take care of Shy? I'm so sick of that shit. Shy is not helpless,” Tara said with aggravation in her voice.
Emotionally exasperated, Tara dropped down onto the warm leather sofa. She stared out the window into her own backyard. Tara was in tune with her thoughts and emotions. Something was wrong. One by one her loved ones had pulled away from her. She was the common denominator, she was the issue. Her mood swings and bad attitude had become more relevant. For years, Tara refused to seek help to deal with the trauma she suffered as a child. Time was up. Tara admitted to herself that it was time to let go of past pains.
At the age of ten, Tara walked into her sister's bedroom and caught the son of a family friend with his hands between Shy's legs. Shy was five at the time and didn't know how to react. Tara's job was to take care of her baby sister. Sometimes that responsibility was too much for a child to handle.
Hold your sister's hand walking to the bus stop, help sissy take a bath, and watch out for Shy on the playground.
Those duties were just the tip of the iceberg. It was only natural that Tara took care of Shy when she saw what the teenager was doing to her sister. The boy was startled when Tara walked into the room. He smiled at her and pushed Shy away. “I'll let her go if you let me feel you up.” The boy smirked. Tara wanted to grab Shy and run away screaming but he had her by the arm. Tara agreed to do what he wanted. Before he let Shy go, the boy gave Tara a menacing look and threatened to shoot up their family if they ever told. Over the years, Shy had forgotten about the sexual abuse while Tara carried it with her like an expensive purse.
Hold your sister's hand walking to the bus stop, help sissy take a bath, and watch out for Shy on the playground.
Those duties were just the tip of the iceberg. It was only natural that Tara took care of Shy when she saw what the teenager was doing to her sister. The boy was startled when Tara walked into the room. He smiled at her and pushed Shy away. “I'll let her go if you let me feel you up.” The boy smirked. Tara wanted to grab Shy and run away screaming but he had her by the arm. Tara agreed to do what he wanted. Before he let Shy go, the boy gave Tara a menacing look and threatened to shoot up their family if they ever told. Over the years, Shy had forgotten about the sexual abuse while Tara carried it with her like an expensive purse.
Tara felt as if Shy was worth saving but she wasn't important enough to receive that same protection. No one came to save her when she needed it most. The world stopped on its axis if Shy stubbed a toe. She never told anyone about what happened. Tara knew it wasn't Shy's fault for not telling anyone what happened to them. She was older and should have known better. Her anger ruled everything. Tara unconsciously believed Shy was stealing the blessings meant for her. The husband, the twins, the daughter, the house, the confidence, the independence was rightfully hers. By not getting help for what happened to her as a child, resentment buried itself in Tara's heart like a tumor. The negativity had taken control of Tara's life without her realizing it.
A butterfly hovered over a bushel of yellow roses as Tara sat daydreaming. There it was before her, a symbol of beauty, freedom, and happiness. Tara focused on the butterfly and decided to give up the fight against the tears welled behind her eyes. Tara's heart remained full of hate, envy, and petty anger. The fight between good and evil was rigged from the start. Negativity had become a huge part of who Tara had become. Tara felt at ease with blaming others for her unhappiness because pointing fingers meant she didn't have to face the truth.
In that quietness Tara heard God speak to her. It was time to let go and let God work in her life and heal her heart. Tara was more than happy to release her grip on the past. For the first time since giving birth to Quincy, Tara felt a flash of an emotional peace inside of her soul. Within seconds, away went the quiet peace deep inside. Shy chose Melvin as her life partner. He was a better caliber of a man than Bruce. Tara resented Bruce for not being strong enough to give their family a better standard of living. He kept a roof over their heads, food on the table, clothes on their backs, and supplied every essential Tara cried out for. Tara always wanted more. She was never satisfied with the blessings her family received so nothing was ever good enough. Her selfish ways had worn Bruce down. Bruce had fallen out of love with Tara years ago. She refused to see her role in holding their family's progress back. Instead of supporting him as head of their household, Tara kept a tight grip on the rope she'd looped around him and eventually, Bruce ran out of strength to fight back against the beast. Quincy was what kept both Tara and Bruce from walking away. They loved their son immensely. Tara and Bruce would give him anything except a healthy home life. The hate they shared for each other outweighed their love for their son.
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