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  “And you look just like Aunt Seleta. So I don’t know why you turning up your nose. My dad and your moms is sister and brother, remember? So if I’m ugly, so are you.” He held her back to get a good look at her. “Damn your belly looks like it’s about to burst. Even though I look better, I must admit you do look good. But for the most part, you look very satisfied and pregnant,” he teased. “I’m happy for you.” He hugged her again.

  “Thank you. I’ll be happy when these boys come out. I feel like a whale, but I’m still a dime, big belly and all. But you’re wrong about looking better than me. I see you’re going to be a problem already!” She pushed him away, joking. “So where are you taking us? I’m ready to get out and smell some of this Cali air. You know, see some sights. That Realtor you referred us to is moving too slow for Mr. Make-It-Happen-Right-Now over there,” she said, referring to Trae.

  “You damn right. I ain’t got time to be playing with the type of money I’m trying to spend,” Trae snapped. “Later for the bullshit.”

  “Later for that bum. That’s what I wanted to tell Trae. What I got to show y’all you’re gonna love. It’s in stupid-ass O. J.’s old neighborhood. It’s nice, quiet, and most important I should be able to get the keys in less than a week if you want it. And if you got the paper, which I know you do, my man who owns the house got other moves he tryna make. Plus he got the connections to make the deal close very fast. Y’all couldn’t have arrived at a better time.” Stephon was elated. “I can make it all happen,” Stephon said as he pulled his cell out of his pocket.

  “Now see? That’s the shit I’m talking about,” Trae said, ready to go.

  Stephon proved to be a man of his word. It was just a matter of days before Trae and Tasha were able to move into their new home. The owner had no problem once Trae gave him a hundred grand down payment. Since O. J. was no longer in the area, Stephon promised that the Brentwood Estates was a quiet, upscale neighborhood. Other than Trae and Tasha, the family of the detective who lived a few houses down the street seemed to be the only visible black family on the block.

  The house was a monstrous 6,200 square feet. To both of them the challenge of getting it furnished and decorated was almost overwhelming. However, Tasha was so excited about their new home on West Eric, but Trae was even more worried about Tasha overdoing it with her pregnancy. Nevertheless, Tasha was in heaven. And as far as Trae was concerned, if Tasha was in heaven, everything else would fall into place.

  Trae heard the phone ringing but refused to answer it.

  “Baby, pick up the phone!” Trae yelled from the family room. He was posted in front of his sixty-inch flat-screen TV.

  “Hello,” Tasha said into the phone. She knew Trae wasn’t moving from his favorite spot.

  “What’s up, girl? How the hell are ya?” It was Kyra. Tasha could recognize her childhood friend’s distinctive voice anywhere. Kyra and Marvin Blackshear had moved—to some suburbs in Long Beach, Cali—right before Trae and Tasha did. Marvin and Trae had become tight in Jersey on the strength of the girls and their respect for one another being in the game. Just like Trae, Marvin had retired from the game. They were all like family.

  “When are you coming over?” asked Tasha. “Can I see my peoples for a change?”

  Kyra laughed. “Awwww, your fat ass miss me? You need to be resting because it’s a wrap once you hit that delivery table. Plus, I told you we’ll get over there. It’s not like I live right around the corner. I’m taking two online classes that are kicking my ass, Marvin has been doing some things, and I know you and Trae are trying to get settled in. And I know your hyperactive ass is overdoing it.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m just excited and anxious at the same time. Trae just put up the cribs for the twins, so my main concern is their room and our bedroom. I’m dying for you to see it. It was empty the last time I spoke to you, but now I got a few thangs going on,” Tasha bragged.

  “Trae told Marvin that your belly is about to burst. How are you feeling?”

  “Tired. But like I said I am soooooo excited!” Tasha crooned.

  “Look, Tasha, you don’t need to be overdoing it.”

  “I’m not. When I feel myself getting too worked up I chill out.”

  “Umm-hmm.” Kyra doubted her. Plus she knew how Tasha was. “Ho, I think I need to come visit your ass for real now!”

  “You gotta see the twins’ bedroom and I need to see my niece Aisha. You know every time I talk to her she tells me how she is going to help me with the twins, right?”

  Kyra laughed. “Let her help, ’cause she is only five, and I ain’t having no more no time soon that she can play house with.”

  “Yeah, right.” Just then Tasha’s phone beeped. “Hold on, Kyra, let me take this call.”

  “Girl, just call me back.”

  “No, Kyra, hold on,” Tasha told her.

  Kyra sucked her teeth and said, “Girl, go ’head. Call me back.” Tasha didn’t want her to hang up, but reluctantly did and clicked over.

  “Hi, baby.” The voice on the other end cracked.

  “Hello, Nana.” It was Trae’s mother.

  “How are you feeling?” Nana asked before her voice began to break up. She was not sounding like her usual vibrant self.

  “I’m fine, thank you. How are you and Pop Pop? Is everything all right?” Trae appeared in the doorway.

  “How long are you going to be on the phone?” Trae asked in an agitated tone.

  “It’s your mom,” she mouthed.

  “Give me the phone,” he demanded.

  Tasha rolled her eyes at him. “Nana, here’s your rude son. I love you.” Tasha covered the mouthpiece. “I think something’s wrong,” she whispered before passing him the phone.

  “Hey, Ma. Everything aiight?” Trae was silent as Tasha watched his facial expressions. When he ran his hand over his head and those nostrils flared she knew something wasn’t right. “Ma, calm down. Put Daddy on the phone.”

  “What’s the matter?” Tasha was now standing in front of Trae.

  “Pop, what happened?” Tasha watched as the tears rolled slow and steady down Trae’s cheeks. He then took the receiver and began banging it repeatedly against the wall. Tasha jumped back, not knowing what to do.

  “Baby, what’s the matter? What happened?” Trae threw the cordless phone across the room, knocking the lamp over.

  “We gotta go back to New York.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Baby, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Tasha pleaded as she followed Trae, who was pacing from room to room in an attempt to calm himself down. His last words to her had been, “We gotta go back to New York.” But those words had been spoken over a half hour ago. “Trae, be fair. You can’t keep me in the dark like this.”

  “Shaheem. It’s my cousin Shaheem.” His voice cracked.

  “Shaheem? What about him? Isn’t he still in New York?”

  “He’s gone.”

  “He’s gone. What do you mean he’s gone?” Tasha asked, even though in her heart she already knew the answer.

  “They found him bound and gagged. They stuffed him in a New York Housing Authority bag, Ma. They treated my cousin real dirty. Muthafuckas!” he spat before he punched the wall.

  “Baby.” Tasha embraced Trae warmly. She squeezed him tight and whispered in his ear, “I am so sorry.” She held him close as he cried, releasing a lot of his frustrations and hurt. She had a flashback and thought about the day that she met Shaheem for the very first time. She had been with Angel, her other childhood homegirl. She and Trae both considered Angel like family.

  Angel was dragging Tasha to a party that Kaylin, Angel’s newfound man and Trae’s partner, was going to be at. Tasha didn’t want to go because she hadn’t heard from Trae in almost a week and wanted to be home in case he came by. And of course she was very worried, especially since Kaylin hadn’t seen or heard from Trae in a couple of days either. Then on top of that Angel hadn’t told Tasha that the party was damn nea
r three hours away from where they lived in Trenton, somewhere in Wildwood, New Jersey.

  Angel kept saying, “You know I would do it for you.”

  “Angel, three fuckin’ hours? You can’t just wait for the nigga to come by your house? This shit is crazy.” Tasha rolled her eyes and slammed the passenger-side door, damn near tearing it off its hinges.

  “It’s not three hours. Two, two and a half tops. Tasha, you don’t understand. This nigga just does something to me. He’s like a drug. l’m telling you, he is the one. Watch what I tell you. This nigga is going to have my babies,” she joked. “Plus, you know he didn’t want me to come by myself. He told me to snatch you up.”

  “Bitch, just drive before I jump out this car and take my ass back in the house,” Tasha snapped as she whipped out her cell phone and dialed Trae again, only to get his voice mail. She had started to hang up but decided to leave a message, only to be surprised by Trae’s message recorded on his voice mail. “Yo, if this is my baby, Daddy is on his way over. So take ya ass home. To everybody else… fuck y’all! Please leave a message after the beep.” Tasha decided she would do just that.

  “Trae, you went through all of this trouble to change your voice mail message when you could have easily exerted that same energy to call me. So if Mommy is not home when you decide to stroll in… fuck you!” Click. Tasha sighed.

  “Bitch, you dick-whipped and the nigga got you open like 7-Eleven, so just chill out and take this ride with me. He got the key; he’ll be in the bed asleep when you get there.”

  “Angel, I swear you done lost your fuckin’ mind. I don’t even know who you are anymore.” Tasha and her girlfriend Jaz had met the cousins Kyra and Angel in the seventh grade. They all had bonded like sisters and been a clique ever since. They had all hooked up with drug dealers, because at the time it was the thing to do. Angel’s boyfriend was a pimp and a dope boy who had disappeared and who they all assumed was dead. So Angel had moved on. She and Tasha were at a club in Philly one night when Angel spotted Kaylin. Even though she had vowed to leave all hustlers and thugs alone, Kaylin had her at hello.

  When they arrived in Wildwood it was still early. There was no need to wonder which house was the party house because cars lined the street all leading in one direction, plus the music, people and decorations made it obvious. Lanterns of various colors lit up the property and even though there was a chill in the air, partygoers were hanging outside drinking and partying.

  Angel flipped open her cell phone as they got out of her car and dialed Kaylin.

  “Yo, beautiful, where you at?” Kaylin always called her beautiful.

  “We’re walking towards the house now. Where are you?”

  “I’ll be there in a few.”

  “What?”

  “Wait there for me in the front.”

  Angel flipped her cell closed and slipped it in her bag. She had a huge grin on her face as she looked over at Tasha.

  “Bitch, don’t be cheesin’ at me.” Tasha rolled her eyes at her.

  “Tasha, lighten up. I know I owe you one. You know I got you.”

  “You don’t owe me shit but a ride back home and to name your firstborn after me.”

  “Okay, you got that,” Angel told her.

  “Yeah, right.” Tasha flipped her off.

  Angel led the way up the front steps of the mini-mansion. A big dude wearing dark shades stopped them.

  “I’m here to see Kaylin,” Angel informed him.

  He looked the both of them over from head to toe. “Wait right here.” He turned to a guy standing behind him. “Marlo, these two ladies are here to see Kay.”

  Marlo, who also looked like a linebacker for the New England Patriots, looked them over as well and nodded. “This way ladies.”

  Tasha made a mental note of the fancy shade of burgundy of the thick carpet and furniture as they headed down a set of winding stairs. The color was bangin’. Marlo knocked on the door and growled, “It’s me. Open up.”

  The double doors to the basement opened and he stepped aside. “Have a good evening, lovely ladies,” he said, and then blew both of them a kiss.

  They both grimaced and looked at each other and then back at him. There was a ruckus in the front of the room. This was obviously the game and gambling room. There were card tables, craps tables, pool tables, chessboards, you name it, spread around the room. In front of the huge fireplace were about seven dudes standing in a semicircle, but then they quickly broke up as blood was squirting everywhere. Kaylin held the iron poker and was beating the screaming dude down to the floor. His right-hand man, who was mocha-colored, six feet two, bald-headed, a tatted Tupac-looking cat who looked as if he killed for a living, repeatedly stomped the dude wherever he could. Losing patience and wanting to inflict more pain, he grabbed a pool stick off a nearby table, unscrewed it and with a smile on his face joined Kaylin in the beat-down.

  Tasha gasped and Angel stood frozen in place. Kaylin was in a zone, beating the guy to a bloody pulp.

  The next thing you knew, Angel was on the floor. She had fainted.

  “Kay!” Tasha screamed. “Kaylin, get over here now! Angel! Oh my God, Kaylin. Help me.”

  The words “help me” snapped Kaylin out of his zone. He looked over toward Angel and Tasha, mumbled something under his breath, threw down the poker and yanked off the now bloody work gloves.

  “Who the fuck let these broads in here?” Shaheem spat. None of the other cats in the room said a word. Instead they all looked away.

  Kaylin hurried over to Angel’s side and swooped her up. “What simple muthafucka let my lady up in here?” he screamed. “Don’t let that pile of shit move, Shaheem.”

  “Move? This fool ain’t going anywhere. Man, handle your business. I got this shit over here. You should have let me handle this in the first place. White muthafucka wanna cheat somebody outta thirty grand! In they own house! I’ma clean this shit up. Better yet, I’ma take out the trash.” Shaheem then yelled for someone to bring him a trash bag. They handed it to him, he popped it open and wrapped it tightly around the guy’s head. Dude began kicking his legs and flailing one of his arms. The other one appeared to be broken. Shaheem squeezed the bag tighter, not turning it loose until the dude released a pile of shit and piss. There were a couple of snickers among the onlookers.

  “What the fuck is so funny?” Shaheem was breathing hard. “Ain’t nothing funny about a muthafucka tryna beat you out of money in yo own damn house. Muthafucka tryna hustle me?” He beat at his chest. “What? Y’all pussies was in on this shit?” he challenged as he looked around the room. The room grew dead quiet but they were all shaking their heads. “Any one of y’all niggas try to do that shit”—he pointed at the limp body on the floor—“this is your future. Now, who wanna play another hand?”

  They all mumbled, “Nah, no thanks, I’m out,” and “Nigga, you crazy,” as they filed out of the room.

  “Aw, y’all punk-ass muhfuckas. All y’all niggas wanna be killers but don’t wanna kill shit,” Shaheem barked. “Get the fuck outta here!” he screamed at them. “But wait! Who the fuck let those broads in here?” He stormed past Kaylin, Angel and Tasha in search of Marlo and his boy Black, the two bouncers. When he found them they were standing tall on duty, not having a clue that they had fucked up.

  “Didn’t I tell y’all stupid, dumb muthafuckas not to let nobody downstairs? Didn’t I give y’all specific instructions to not let anybody down there?”

  Marlo was the first to speak up, “But Kaylin said he was expecting the girls, so I thought—”

  “I don’t give five fucks about what you thought. I don’t pay yo goofy ass to have thoughts. I pay you to take orders. And if you can’t do that then what the fuck I got you working here for?”

  Neither one of the bouncers said a word.

  “You two simple Simon muthafuckas go down there and clean that shit up.” They both stood there staring at him, scared to move. “What the fuck y’all staring at me for? Go clean th
at shit up!”

  “Red, baby.” Kaylin called his nickname for Angel. She was still out cold. “Somebody get me a cold cloth,” he yelled. “Angel!” He whispered in her ear. “Angel.” He was relieved to see her eyes open but they immediately closed. “Shit,” he gritted.

  Someone handed him a clean wet cloth. He dabbed at her forehead. “Tasha, you need to toughen your girl up.”

  “Don’t blame me. If you were handling business you shouldn’t have sent for us.”

  “I sent for her. Trae sent for you. And this wasn’t supposed to be business. This is a party. But hey, shit happens. Your girl here is going to be fine but she does need to toughen up a little.” He shook her mildly. “Red, can you hear me? Red, baby, I’ma sit you up, all right?” He dabbed at her face some more.

  As if it had just hit her, Tasha snapped, “What do you mean Trae sent for me?” Tasha’s heart was now racing. “He told me to be at the house because he was on his way over.”

  Angel’s eyes fluttered open and focused on Kaylin. “Kaylin, what are you doing?” Angel groaned as if she were in pain. “Kaylin?”

  “I’m right here, beautiful.” He planted a soft peck on her lips.

  “Where is Trae?” Tasha asked, but no one was listening.

  “Kaylin, I just witnessed you attempt to commit a murder,” Angel whispered. “Why, Kaylin? Why are you still testing me? Do you ever stop?”

  “Baby, that wasn’t a test. C’mon, let’s get you out of here. I told you to wait out front for me.”

  He helped her up and they started walking toward the door. Angel kept trying to look back at the bloodied body with a trash bag over its head, lying crumpled up in front of the fireplace, but Kaylin was blocking her view.

  “Where is Trae?” Tasha asked again.

  “I’m ready to go, Kaylin. Let Tasha take me home. I’ve already had enough of you for one night. Let me leave you to do what you do. Look at you! You got blood all over you.” Angel pulled away from him.