Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
AHKEEM
I walked into my dealership and dapped Mirsad up. He had been taking care of Kross’ car for me, so I needed to stop by to make sure everything went smoothly before we shipped it out to Miami.
“Aye, you cheating on my cousin ‘cause who the fuck getting a free whip besides her?” Mirsad eyed me up and down.
“Nigga, what?” I laughed. “You be tripping. I’m not tricking off on another bitch. This whip for my homie Kross out in Miami. I fucked his shit up, so I’m giving him a new one.”
The Mercedes G-Class was custom wrapped in matte black with crimson red interior. Only had about 55 miles on the engine, so the whip was brand new. It was the least I could do since his shit ended up riddled with bullet holes and in a chop shop.
“You know if I check Instagram and one of them Miami hoes post this car, I’m snitching, right?” He handed me the iPad so I could sign off on the shipment and car purchase.
I smacked my lips. “Shut your goofy ass up. Ain’t none of that going on. Now don’t make me snitch on you for bringing your hoes to my baby’s boutique and letting them pick what they want.”
His eyes widened in shock due to the fact that I knew what game he was pulling at Kinza Boutique. “Let me go send this paperwork off and mind my motherfuckin’ business.”
“Yeah, you do that, playa.”
I checked in on a few things around the dealership and tapped in on my employees. Soon as I hit my office, my phone went off in my pocket. Seeing that it was Brooke calling, I let out a heavy huff of air, already knowing that she was on bullshit.
“What’s up, Brooke?”
“Ahkeem, if you can’t make it on time for my son, let me know beforehand so I can get to him,” she snapped.
“Fuck you talking about? My wife went to go pick him up.”
A bitter chuckle fled out of her before she responded. “Well, Little Miss Wifey is a fucking no show, so they called me! Get your shit together over there! My son needs to be picked up on time!”
I pulled the phone away from my ear, not trying to hear her screaming all loud. She didn’t know what the fuck an inside voice was. “Aye, this gotta be a misunderstanding or something. Jazzlyn is never late picking up Blue. You at the school yet?”
I completely disregarded what I came in my office to do and hit the door. With my car keys in hand, I jogged out of the dealership and got into my car. “Yes. Luckily, I wasn’t too damn far.”
“You see my security out there? She said she was gonna have Cyro meet her there.”
Annoyed by my line of questioning, she smacked her lips. “Yes, Cyro is right here! You’re worrying about the wrong shit, Ahkeem! My fucking son was left at school!”
“Read the fucking room, dumbass! Something may have happened to my wife! Get Blue and go straight home! Cyro will trail you!” I banged my line on her before she could utter a reply.
All she wanted to do was argue. Blue was safe at the school, and this wasn’t a repeated issue.
We were never late when it came to picking him up.
I called Jazzlyn’s phone, and it went straight to voicemail. I hit her again, and nothing. “Fuck!”
I peeled off the lot, unsure where the fuck to go. I just knew I needed to hit the streets. I dialed up Cyro, and he answered on the first ring.
“Yo, Jazzy running like twenty minutes late. I was trying to stall out for her, but ya baby moms just pulled up. I would’ve picked little man up and brought him to you, but you know I ain’t on the paperwork and shit.”
“You good, Cy. You ain’t heard from her at all, have you?”
“Jazzy? Nah. I called her a couple of times and got voicemail. Everything straight? I thought she got held up with you or something.”
“Nah. I asked her to go pick Saphir up, and she told me she would have you meet her at the school since she planned on taking him out. Cy, Jazzy ain’t never late for Saphir.”
“Let me know what move you need me to make, Ahk.”
“Shit, just make sure Brooke is good with Saphir. I’m about to see if I can get in touch with Jazzy. ‘Preciate you.”
“No problem. Hit me when you hear from her.”
I nodded. “I got you.”
Jazzy and I shared locations and shit because she would always come home late after the club let out.
She may have been horrible at answering the fucking phone, but she always had it in her vicinity.
It gave me peace just knowing where she was.
I tapped on the app where I could check her location, and my brows bumped together once I read, “No location found” next to her contact picture.
“The fuck.”
I was trying to keep shit calm, but now shit wasn’t sitting right.
Jazzlyn would never turn her fucking location off, and her phone going straight to voicemail meant it was turned off.
When it came to her, my first instinct was always to call PJ.
They were two peas in a pod, so if anyone could get to my wife before I could, it would be her big brother.
“Nigga, I been meaning to get at you. Why the fuck would you have my wife tow all my cars to your shop without me knowing? Now I’m driving her small-ass car around,” he huffed into the phone.
“I appreciate the free customs and shit, but let a nigga know before you come get my shit. Got motherfuckas’ in the neighborhood thinking my shit got repoed.
” I did the shit as a kind gesture, but I knew I just pissed his grumpy ass off more when he woke up and all his cars were gone.
I couldn’t even bother to explain shit to him. My mind was so screwed with thoughts of my wife. “PJ, you heard from your sister?”
“You fucked up again, nigga?! You just got her back! This marriage shit ain’t for you, son!”
“Priest, this shit serious!” I snapped. “She went to go pick up Blue from school and never got there. I been calling her, and her shit keep going to voicemail. I tried checking her location and got nothing. Jazzy ain’t never late when it comes to picking up Saphir.”
Once he heard the seriousness in my tone, he dismissed all the other shit he was talking about. “Why the fuck you ain’t have security with her, Ahkeem?” he stressed.
“Cyro was gonna meet her at the school. We just touched down from Miami, and the time was cutting close to go pick Blue up.”
“Fuck. You tried calling her friends?”
“I’m about to. I’ll let you know if I hear something.”
“I’m on my way over to you. This shit better be her pulling some sick fucking joke,” he muttered.
“This shit not sitting right, PJ. Lovey don’t do shit like this.” He could hear the sense of panic that was about to come over me, and he quickly put it out.
“Aye, let’s not lose our fucking heads so soon. Call up her homegirls, then hit up everyone to see if they heard from her. I’m at the rec center, so I’m close to the boutique. I’ll shoot there and let you know if I find her.”
“Bet.”
“We gone find her.”
“We better fucking find her,” I said before banging the line on him.
I placed my calls to Angie and Zylynn, and they both said they hadn’t heard from her. I figured my best bet was to retrace her steps. I saw her leave out the parking garage with my own two eyes.
Traffic was backed up near Saphir’s school.
The traffic was always bad around dismissal because of the long-ass carpool lane, but it usually lightened up after a while.
I was fucking stuck, and the traffic wasn’t fucking moving.
Shit like this always made me want to crash out.
This was the wrong fucking time to be stuck in a traffic jam.
I needed to stick and move in order to find my wife.
I sat frustratedly behind the wheel wishing I never came down this street. My phone rang, and I answered before I could even get the chance to see who was calling.
“Yo, Ahk, what car Jazzy was driving?” Cyro’s voice filled the speaker of my car.
“Her Mercedes.”
“Shit.”
“Cyro, what’s up? You found her?” I leaned up in my seat as my heart pounded against my chest.
He let out a deep sigh. “I’m stuck in traffic by Saphir’s school. There was a crash, Ahk. It’s a Mercedes.”
A bitter chuckle fled out of me as I shook my head in denial. “Nah, Cyro. You tripping. You sure you seeing right?”
“I’m telling you, Ahk. It’s her Mercedes. She was on the way to go pick up Saphir. Only two blocks down from the school.”
“I’m stuck in this fucking traffic! Do you see her?!”
“No. I’m gone try to get to the scene.”
“Bet.” I hung my phone up on him as my heart continued to pound against my chest. I felt my stomach tie in knots as I sat stuck in traffic unable to get to my wife.
The car crash would’ve been the only reason my baby never showed to go pick Saphir up.
She would never not show up for him. My mind felt like it was spiraling out of control.
The longer I sat in traffic, the more liable I was to do some wild shit.
After only moving up in inch in traffic, I jumped the curb on a nearby sidewalk. The roads were so congested that even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t have been able to maneuver through them.
“Fuck this shit.” I cut the engine off and hopped out. I took off on foot in search of the crash.
If Cyro was right, I needed to stop wasting time and get to her.
I could only imagine how scared she was.
This shit felt like my heart was being gutted from my body.
I sprinted the two blocks, and as soon as I stepped foot on the scene, my heart plunged to the sole of my feet.
Jazzlyn’s car was completely totaled in the middle of the road, all the window shattered and air bags deployed.
Sirens blared from the ambulance trucks and police cars that tried to contain and secure the area. The crash was fucking major. It looked like the whole side panel of her whip was caved the fuck in.
“Sir, please get back! You cannot be beyond the yellow tape!” an officer ordered as he jumped in front of me.
“Son, watch out! That’s my fucking wife’s car!” I pointed to the Mercedes. “Where the fuck is my wife?!”