True To The Game Part 2

"Well, I want to see her."

"She don't want to see you, and you lucky I wasn't home this morning 'cause I'da came outside and kicked your a.s.s, Mr. Big Man wanna beat on women." Kita was looking out the window at him now.

"Here. Give her these."

Kita looked at the boxes he had in his hands. "Leave them on the porch."

Kita waited a few minutes and when Jamal was gone, she opened the door and picked up the five boxes and took them into the house. In each, Gena found twelve long-stemmed roses, each box containing a different color. Red roses, pink roses, yellow roses, white roses, and white roses with pink edges.

"What the h.e.l.l this motherf.u.c.ker buy all these flowers for?"

"I don't know but you can give me some of them flowers, if you don't want them," she said, munching on a cracker.

"You can have them."

"Gena, that n.i.g.g.a done brought all these flowers over here feeling guilty. That's how women beaters are. They always say sorry. s.h.i.+t, don't mean nothing and neither do these flowers."

"You want them you can have them."

Leaving the roses in their boxes, she walked away from them. Thinking about Quadir, she felt her power return.

"Remember the guy I told you I met in New York? He's coming over."

"For what?"

"To see me, to be with me. What don't you understand?"

"He's gonna see you alright, and if Norman Bates comes back to this motherf.u.c.ker, you gonna see. Do you understand that?"

"I'm gonna take a shower. Let me know when they get here."

She was nearly finished when she heard the doorbell and quickly stepped out of the shower and into her robe. Patting dry, she looked at her face through the steamed mirror. It wasn't that bad, but it was noticeable. Down the hallway she could hear the sounds of her company in the living room. She hung her towel and walked down the other end of the hallway to her room. Just as she was kneeling over to slip on some panties, Sahirah stormed into her bedroom to let her know Markita went home. "Do you know how to knock?" asked Gena with her arms folded over her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

"You act like I haven't seen you naked. You look different though. Your b.r.e.a.s.t.s are bigger," Sahirah said, looking at her girlfriend's nakedness.

"Thank you. I've been drinking my milk," she said winking at Sahirah.

Seeing her friend's reflection in the dresser mirror, Sahirah asked, "What's happened to your face?"

"Jamal was outside waiting for me this morning."

"What?" Sahirah listened with her jaw down to her clavicle, beginning with the shootout, Jamal's attack, and the three deaths at the fast food restaurant.

"I knew that motherf.u.c.ker wasn't right, ever since his a.s.s crashed into a wall on that motorcycle."

"Well, I have had enough of Jamal. The next girl can have him. She turned back to the dresser mirror, inspecting her face. Sahirah knew she meant what she said.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you. Quadir Richards is the man of life."

"Why is Quadir the man of life?"

Smirking, Sahirah served up her gourmet dish. "My cousin use to mess with his sister, Denise. Girl, sit down and let me tell you. G, the boy is paid. The BMW? It's his. He has a Range Rover too. Guess what? He is a millionaire. Can you believe this s.h.i.+t? A real life millionaire drug dealer right here in this house," Sahirah said, plopping on to the bed next to Gena.

Gena was starting to like the sound of this. The hair on her back was standing up straight.

"Guess what else? He is supposed to be seeing some girl named Cherelle that lives up in Germantown, but she wouldn't know what to do with that motherf.u.c.ker if he came with a booklet."

"He got a b.i.t.c.h? Why'd he lie?" Gena tried to be disinterested.

"No, girl. Are you deaf? He's seeing the girl, he's not claiming her. Rasun said he don't have n.o.body at home. The b.i.t.c.h is none of that but some change, G. I'm telling you, girl, you are in the house. You could just take over s.h.i.+t and move that b.i.t.c.h right to the curb. You know what I'm saying?" Sahirah was just a-smiling. Sahirah knew Gena. She knew Gena was a con.

She continued. "I'm saying the kid been bugging out all night over you."

"Word?"

"Word. The n.i.g.g.a is definitely trying to see you. Aren't you glad we went to New York? Isn't this s.h.i.+t blue?"

"Yes, so blue." Gena was all smiles.

"Girl, you found the jackpot, mark my words. You know you're taking me shopping for this one, right?"

"You know I got you covered. Tell him to come here for me?" Sahirah left for the living room.

In another moment, Quadir entered Gena's bedroom. The man was fine. He had on a pair of blue jeans with a polo s.h.i.+rt and a brand new pair of sneakers. He had just been to the barbershop. His beard was nice and groomed, and for some strange reason he looked much better than he did last night.

"What's up?" Then he noticed the marks on her face. "What happened?"

She told him the entire story. "I won't be seeing him again."

He was glad to hear that, but wasn't too sure if he should be in the house without Ena, his favorite nine millimeter, which was in the car.

"No one is gonna come in here, are they?"

"No one has keys except for me." She reached up and ran the back of her fingers over his cheek. "I don't even miss him. I'm glad he's gone. I wish I could just get away, you know?"

"I know. I've been wanting to get away myself. You gonna go away with me?"

She looked him straight in the eye. "Mmm huh."

"When can you go?" he asked.

"Whenever you're ready. I can go right now."

"Let's go to A.C. first."

FIRST DATE.

Quadir knew exactly where to go. He drove over to Atlantic City. After buying everyone back in Philly a pair of Gucci sneakers, they gambled. Sahirah lost every bit of the $550 Rasun had slowly given her. Gena, on the other hand, was doing mighty well, taking the $1,000 Quadir handed her and winning, winning, winning. She ended up with close to $4,000 by the time the night was over at the blackjack table. Later, they took the escalator up to the third level where there were several restaurants to choose from. Once they were seated, Quadir told Rasun about his little run-in with Jerrell Jackson. Rasun didn't like nothing about the Junior Mafia.

"Quadir, don't mess with him. He wants to be Scarface. Own the f.u.c.king world and s.h.i.+t. He's the type will stab you in the back. Don't f.u.c.k with him, Qua."

"Ock, that will never happen."

Gena was curious. "Who are you talking about?"

"Man talk," Quadir said. "n.o.body you know, anyway."

"I know who you're talking about," said Sahirah.

Rasun jumped in, trying to shut her up. "You don't know nothing."

"Yes, I do. You were talking about Jerrell Jackson."

Gena brightened a little. "Oh, yeah, I heard about him. Isn't he supposed to be the leader of the Junior Mafia, or something?"

"Yes," said Sahirah.

"Really?" Gena turned to Quadir. "How do you know him?"

"What difference does it make? He isn't the mob."

Sahirah wouldn't stop. "He's the leader of the Junior Mafia. It is the mob, okay?"

Rasun spoke up, "Well, how do you know him?"

Sahirah warmed to her gossip. "One night, I was with my girlfriend. She was going out with him a lot. Anyway, he gave us a ride back to her house."

Qua didn't like her no more, and he didn't believe one word she said. The girl might have been telling the truth, but nine chances out of ten, the b.i.t.c.h was lying through her teeth. He threw some money on the table and got up.

"Let's go. Gena, you know how to drive?"

"Yes."

He handed her the valet stub. Gently, she pulled Sahirah over to her and hissed through her teeth, "You talk too much!"

The drive home seemed to take forever. Everyone had fallen asleep and Gena had no one to talk to. She reached over and rubbed Quadir's leg. He opened one eye and squeezed her hand. "You still want to go away?"

Gena wasn't sure she was hearing what he wasn't saying. "Isn't nothing gonna happen to me, is it?"

Warming to her childlike fear, he told her, "Baby doll, I wouldn't let anything happen to you. I'll protect you from all harm," he said, as he winked at her.

Gena pulled up outside Rasun's house and dropped Rasun and Sahirah off. When they were alone in the car, he asked, "What time will you be ready to go tomorrow?"

"Ready? Where we going?"

"I don't know. Let's go to the Bahamas."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am."

Gena just stared at him. She remembered how anxious Jamal was when they first met. Then she wondered should she just leave town with Quadir. What if something happened to her? What if he was just as crazy and deranged as Jamal? She looked into his eyes and didn't have a clue. He could be a rapist, but she already made up her mind. If he wanted to take her to the Bahamas, then she was going.

She turned on to Chancellor Street and pulled up in front of her door. "Five o'clock. I'll be back at five," he said.

"I'll be ready," she said, real serious.

"So, I'll see you later."

"Later." Gena just sat there looking at him. For some strange reason she couldn't get out of the car. Something was holding her. She didn't know what it was until he reached over and put his hand around her neck. He pulled her closer to him and kissed her. At first, he just touched her lips with his, lightly. Then, he opened her mouth with his tongue and gently probed. Confusion and heat filled her like nothing she'd ever felt before. Like magnets, drawn to one another. It was magic.

Our first kiss, Gena thought, in the safety of her apartment. Sahirah was right: Quadir Richards is the man of life.

The next morning, she had much to do! Shopping, hair, nails, packing. And that was only the beginning. The phone pulled her out of a trance.

"Gena, it's Jamal."

"Oh. Hi." Ice crept into her veins.

"You all right?"

"I'm okay. How are you?"

"I don't feel good. I have a sore throat and a fever."

"Have you been to the doctor?" she asked him.

"No, I'm not going to no doctor."

"Well, I hope you feel better."

"Are you gonna come over to take care of me?" She could hear the faint hope in his voice. Thinking to herself, h.e.l.l no, b.i.t.c.h. Die. With satisfaction, she informed him, "Jamal, I can't. I have to go to the beauty salon and get my hair done."

"Well, what about after you go and get your hair done?"

"After that, I have to go to the mall and pick up a few things, and I have to get my nails done. You know what I think? I think, I'll get my feet done, too. So, I don't think I have time to come over there. I have a very busy day."

Jamal felt like he was getting the brush off, and he didn't like it. Not one bit. Everything he had done for her meant nothing. He could die and it wouldn't mean anything to her. "Well, Gena I can tell when I'm not wanted."

"Jamal, why do you say it like that? I thought we understood that it wasn't working when you beat me up."

"Gena, you always gonna be mines. What do you mean when you say it isn't working?"

Is he brain dead? Gena thought to herself. "Jamal, I can't come and see you. I'm confused. I need some time. I want us to just be friends."

"f.u.c.k you. All you b.i.t.c.hes are the same. You ain't s.h.i.+t!" shouted Jamal.

With enough serene confidence to make his brain explode, she continued, "See, that is the very reason right there, why we are not together."