Chapter 8 Same Ol’ G #2
“It’s all over the news,” she whispered. “Two men found on the riverbank, execution style.”
“What that got to do with me?” Heavy swung his head in her direction.
“I’m just trying to make sure you’re good and don’t do anything that you’ll regret,” Prischa stated before looking around.
For the most part, she had her good girl persona to protect around Southwick.
Heavy tainted that in a major way. It didn’t matter how bad she wanted to be with him, in the same token, he was bad for her image.
Yet she couldn’t figure out how to break away from him because, at the end of the day, he had never done her dirty, and she still wished the best for him.
“Everybody is already speculating that this was you.”
“Muhfuckas speculate about any and everything around here, Pri.”
“They’re scared of you!” she hissed.
“Good.” Heavy turned, his warm hazel eyes suddenly hardened. “Maybe they’ll think twice before touching my blood again.”
There was no bragging or need for some drawn out explanation.
He’d seen it in the city the past few days.
It was all in a motherfuckers’ tone and posture when he stepped into the room.
The cops didn’t press hard, little YNs wasn’t alive to speak on it, and everyone else looked on in weary pride.
The message was clear. Heavy enforced a code a lot of people weren’t used to.
“Heavy.” Prischa released a weighted sigh. “What is going on? Do I need to be worried about me and P?”
“Nah. You know I won’t let nothing touch you.” He reached out and rested a hand on her knee.
“Yeah, you didn’t mean for anything to touch Horace either, but it did.” She scoffed. “It’s not just about me. I have Pierre to think about.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Heavy sneered.
“I think until now, I haven’t had to worry about you or the shit you’re into. I can’t ignore it. This is the same shit that took Big P from us in the first place.”
“Ain’t none of this shit got a guaranteed stamp on it, Pri.
This ain’t nothing new.” Heavy gestured with his hands.
“You decide what you want at the end of the day, though. I ain’t out here hustling in vain and moving sloppy like Pierre.
Yeah, that was the homie, but I tried to tell him all the time that how he was moving was gon’ get him fucked off.
Since he was older, he thought he knew better.
I learned then that I wasn’t in the position to be making choices for anybody, you feel me? ”
“Yeah.” She nodded and stood. “I think I need a minute.”
“What was that about?” Henna asked, emerging from inside Horace’s hospital room.
Prischa had already disappeared, but she caught the backside of her.
“Nothing. Is he ready?” Heavy jumped to his feet.
“Just about. He’s fussing about making sure we taking everything the hospital provided. Down to the towels.”
Chuckling, Heavy shook his head and dropped his arm across her shoulders.
“We almost lost him, Heav,” she whispered.
“But we didn’t,” he reminded her, pecking her forehead. “So, don’t even think about that. I’m tightening security, and it’s already been made known how we deal with a threat.”
“You always make sure we’re good.” Henna rested a hand against his chest. “I just don’t want you to do anything that will take you away. Like Daddy.”
“I ain’t Pops, Henna, aight? I ain’t going nowhere if I can help it. I can’t let anybody think they can touch my family and not pay for it, though.”
“I know.” Henna bobbed her head. “Is that why Prischa left?”
“She acting like she don’t know who I am or something.” Heavy sucked his teeth.
“She’s just scared. This is the same life she lost Pierre to.”
“Well, I ain’t Pierre, and I warned him. Just like Viggo. Niggas don’t want to listen to me, though. Think they already know everything and can’t take lessons.”
“So, what’s going to happen with you and Pri? You know she’s my friend, Heavy. I don’t want our relationship messed up because you can’t see eye to eye.”
“Hen, I ain’t the one you should be talking to.” Heavy pushed the door open to Horace’s room and found him shoving hospital supplies into his duffel bag.
“Grandpa, you are not supposed to take the gown,” Henna called him out.
“Shit. Why the hell not? They got plenty of ’em. Bring you a new one every other hour. I told Petal I was bringing this home, so we could role play, and she can be my nurse.”
Henna pretended to gag as she stumbled over to the hospital bed.
“Ugh, I did not need that visual. Make sure y’all lock your doors. I ain’t trying to walk in on that.”
“Shoot, might learn a move or two.” Horace zipped his bag.
“Grandpa!” Henna’s eyes stretched, and she shot Heavy a panicked look.
“That’s the last time you talk about fucking our grandma.” Heavy reached for the bag and slung the strap over his shoulder.
“This one time on this cruise, I had her bent over the balcony, watching the water—”
“Oh, my God!” Henna snatched up his folder with all his paperwork and after care instructions and rushed out of the room ahead of Heavy. “I’ll bring the car around.”
Heavy dropped the fob to his Mercedes in her hand.
“Don’t fuck my shit up, Hen.”
“Short ass can barely see over the wheel. You gon’ let her drive your shit?” Horace’s face wrinkled into a frown as he fell in stride with Heavy to the elevators about five feet ahead.
“I saw the news.” He cleared his throat, and Heavy pressed the down arrow for the elevator to launch.
“Lot of shit on the news, Horace. You should stop watching that shit.” Heavy got a text and lifted his phone from his pocket to check it.
“It’s your wife. Said she needs me to go around and check a few of the properties for repairs.”
The elevator dinged before the doors slid open.
“First things first, I need me a double cheeseburger with the works and some chili cheese fries from Sally’s spot.” Horace rubbed his hands together.
“I know damn well that ain’t on that new diet plan the doctor wants to implement.”
“Fuck that and that damn doctor. They can implement these nuts. I’m getting me a damn burger.”
“Yo, you crazy.” Heavy chortled.
“They better know it.” Horace brought his fists up like he was about to start boxing and swung at the air. “I ain’t no spring chicken, but I’ll give a nigga a run for they money. That’s why they had to jump me. I was tagging they little asses by they self.”
“I added a guard on the store, just to be on the safe side, though. I don’t want you in there at night by yourself anymore.”
“Ah, I don’t scare that easy, son. You know that.” Horace brushed it off. “I’m thinking it might be time to retire anyway. I know it would make Petal happy.”
“What you gon’ do all day?” Heavy asked when the elevator landed in the lobby and the doors opened.
“Smoke more weed and get drunk.” Horace chuckled with Heavy at his side. “You muhfuckas need to start having kids. I’m surprised Viggo ain’t got a litter as much sticking and moving he be doing. I wouldn’t be bored if I had some kids to play with.”
“I’ll have Pri bring Pierre over more. You know he loves it at your spot.”
“That’s because Petal be spoiling that boy. He a little soft,” Horace noted. “Likes to spend all his time in the kitchen instead of watching sports with me.”
“You one shit talking ass old man, you know that?”
“And is!” Horace agreed. “The fuck I’m biting my tongue for? I say what I mean and mean what I say.”
Henna whipped Heavy’s car up to the front entrance, and he opened the back door for his grandpa to climb inside. Once he was settled, he dropped his bags in the back of his whip and opened the driver’s door.
“I can’t even drive us home?” his twin prodded.
“Hell no, gon’ have me back in the damn hospital!” Horace complained. “Heavy, where the weed at? I know you got some in here. Had me high off them narcotics all them days. I need the bud!”
Henna got out and walked around the front of the wagon to the passenger seat while Heavy took his driver’s position behind the wheel.
He grabbed the blunt from the ashtray and brought it to his lips to spark with his BIC lighter.
After a few puffs, he passed it over the seat to Horace, and they sped out of the hospital parking lot.
The wine bottle was half gone when Giselle’s phone rang against the granite countertop later that day.
She’d been spiraling and trying to reach Alonzo, but his line was going right to voicemail.
She didn’t know how many ways she could tell him to call her back, so she stopped leaving messages.
Picking up the iPhone, she swiped to answer, putting her lawyer on speaker.
“Talk to me, Malcolm. What the hell is going on?” She tipped the glass to her lips and swallowed the last of the wine.
“Giselle, I’ve looked. He’s moved everything. Every joint account, even the trust payouts that were in both names. It’s all gone.”
Lungs restricted, she rested her hand against her chest.
“Is that even legal?”
“Technically, it is. You gave him power of attorney for business disbursements last year, remember?” Malcolm reminded her.
The memory hit like a bad montage. Her signing a stack of papers in Alonzo’s office while he mumbled some shit about ‘streamlining taxes’. Sinking to the marble floor with her back against the counter and her glass still in hand, she stared ahead.
“I’ll do what I can, but you need to prepare yourself for a lot of scrutiny.” When the call ended, she stared into the wine glass.
The hum of the fridge was now the only sound in the room.
Reaching above her, she grabbed the wine bottle.
There was a faint click of the bottle hitting the glass during her refill.
At that moment, it was the only thing she had any control over.
This couldn’t really be happening. Alonzo wouldn’t do this to her, would he?
After finishing her glass, she remembered sliding across the floor to lie down as her eyes grew heavy.
When she woke, head thick with alcohol, her phone buzzed somewhere nearby.
First, she observed the time. It was almost one-thirty in the afternoon, so she’d been lying there for hours.
Wiping the drool from the side of her face, her eyes lit up at the sight of Alonzo’s name flashing across the screen.
Relief hit first, then anger before she answered.
“Where are you!” she demanded, quickly bringing herself to her feet. “My cards… everything—”
“I’m handling it, G.”
“Handling what exactly? You emptied every account! What am I supposed to do?”
“It’s temporary.” He sighed like she was annoying him. “You’ve been overspending, and I need to protect what’s left.”
“That’s bullshit, and you know it!”
The line went quiet. Then she heard a woman’s laugh in the background. Esti. It was unmistakable. Giselle pressed her hand against her stomach and doubled over like someone had punched her.
“You’re with her?” she gasped.
“Don’t start this, G. We’ll talk later. Don’t call me. I’ll call you.” There was a beep before her phone returned to the home screen.
It slipped from her shaking hand. For the longest, she stared at it on the ground in disbelief. Is this really happening? How had she not seen it? Anger steadied her enough to move. She picked up the phone and called Alonzo’s office. His receptionist, Andrea, answered.
“I don’t know the details Mrs. Maynard. I just know he said he was taking an extended trip. He left instructions that all inquiries be handled through legal counsel.”
The words landed like stones. She looked around her house and pressed her fingers against her forehead.
“Fine. Thanks for nothing.” She ended the call and stumbled through her home into the living room.
The nanny, Petra, was going to drop the kids off in a few hours, and Giselle had no idea what to say to them. Sinking into the couch, she leaned forward, and surprisingly, her phone rang again. It was Malcolm again.
“Giselle, he’s already filed for dissolution of partnership to the design company. Assets are frozen until review. I don’t know if you have something set aside, but the house is even in his name. Everything will be seized and sold.”
“So, it’s over?”
“I’m sorry.” Empathy laced Malcolm’s tone, but his hands were tied.
Once she hung up, Giselle peered around her living room.
The silence was deafening. She tossed the phone on the table and grabbed her laptop from the shelf under the coffee table.
Flipping it open, she immediately pulled up an internet search.
Southwick, Kansas rentals. She didn’t have time to dwell or feel sorry.
With her personal accounts, she had at least twenty thousand saved.
It was enough to cover a deposit and couple months’ rent on a place for her and the kids until she got a job.
She couldn’t believe Alonzo left her busted like this, knowing she had two kids to take care of.
The more she typed and scrolled, the angrier she became.
Suddenly, all those red flags she ignored were popping up all over her radar.
The late nights, him being overly friendly with Esti at business parties.
Her always in his office when Giselle would swing by.
When he had business dinners before, he would take Giselle to seal the deal, then it became Esti, and he left her at home with the kids.
Their sex life had slowed down, too, but she didn’t have much of a sex drive after having the twins.
It became all about them and making sure they had everything they needed.
Her priorities shifted, and Alonzo lowkey seemed resentful of her becoming a mother sometimes.
The only time he fucked with the twins was when he was using them to make himself look good.
After finding a few potential places, she closed her laptop and searched for her notepad and pen.
In her neatest handwriting, she compiled a list of things she needed to do.
Sell jewelry. Close the lease on the design building.
Withdraw any and everything from personal accounts.
Southwick. Call Remi. That last part of the list was going to take more strength than she could muster.
The turn she took with that fork in the road only led her to more disaster, but she had to keep herself together for the two best things in her life.