14. Alisha
ALISHA
Seeing Kim at that courthouse had been the last fucking straw for me.
I didn’t care that she sat in the back. I didn’t care that she tried to sneak out when she saw me.
And I damn sure didn’t care what excuse she had for being there.
The bitch had nerves after walking into Shante’s baby shower with that bullshit, getting her ass beat, then turning around and showing up at my husband’s court date?
Nah I was tired. Tired of Deuce and his bullshit ass lies.
I was tired of Kim’s delusional ass. I was just tired of everybody else’s bullshit finding its way into my life.
I had finally stopped staying in the hotel and started staying with my mama and Brittany.
I couldn’t keep throwing money away on hotel rooms, especially when I didn’t know how long this shit with Deuce was going to drag out.
Grandma Lorraine had offered too. I loved that woman to death, but that wasn’t happening.
At the end of the day, Deuce was her grandson.
She could cuss his ass out from sunup to sundown, call him every fool in the book, and threaten to knock some sense into him herself.
But blood was blood. When it came down to it, Grandma Lorraine was always going to love and protect Deuce.
I couldn’t even be mad at her for that. I just wasn’t putting myself in a position where I had to wonder whose side she was really on, but with my mama there wasn’t no question.
If Deuce came knocking, his ass might have to duck a frying pan before he made it through the door.
And Brittany was comfortable there that mattered more than anything.
I still wasn’t taking her back to our house. Not after that man had shown up there. Until I knew what the hell Deuce had gotten himself into, my daughter was staying right where she was safe. That was the only thing I cared about.
I was at the shop that afternoon finishing up a client’s nails when the bell over the front door rang. “Hey, welcome in,” I called without looking up.
Nobody answered and I kept working. My client looked toward the front. “You got somebody waiting.”
“I’ll be with them in a minute.” I finished applying the top coat, slid her hand beneath the lamp, then finally looked up.
My whole body went stiff. It was the same man who had been waiting outside my house.
He stood near the front of my shop like he had every damn right to be there.
He was wearing a black suit with shiny expensive shoes.
He looked like a damn serial killer. He had his hands in his pockets.
My heart started beating faster, but I wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of seeing me scared, not in my shit.
I looked at my client. “Give me one second.” I stood up.
The man looked around the shop. “Nice place.”
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
My client looked between us and I didn’t care.
His eyes came back to mine. “Need to talk to you.”
“We ain’t got shit to talk about.” I spat
“Yeah, we do.”
I stepped from behind my station. “You got about five seconds to get the fuck out of my shop.”
He didn’t move.
“Deuce running out of time.”
I stared at him.
“There ain’t too much I can do about that.” His face stayed the same. “He's in jail.” I let him know.
“I know where he at.” He replied.
“Then why the fuck you here bothering me?”
He glanced toward my client. “Don’t look at her. Look at me.” His eyes came right back to mine. I folded my arms.
“Whatever Deuce owes you, whatever he got, whatever he lost, take that shit up with him.”
“Can’t.” He replied.
“Sounds personal.”
His eyebrow lifted and I didn’t give a damn.
“That man has been sitting in the county for months. I don’t know nothing about whatever business y’all had going on, and I don’t want to know.”
“You his wife.” He answered.
“And?”
He gave me a look. “And that makes it your business.”
“The fuck it do.”
My client slowly pulled her hands from underneath the lamp. “You’re good, Keisha, give me a minute.”
She nodded, grabbed her purse, and didn’t need to be told twice. Once she was gone, I walked toward the front and locked the door then I turned around. “Now say whatever the fuck you came to say.”
He looked at me for a second. “Deuce got something that belongs to some people.”
“I heard you the first time you came to my house.”
“Apparently you didn’t.”
“No, apparently you didn’t hear me.”
I pointed toward the door. “I don’t have Deuce’s money or his product. I don’t know where either one is. And I ain’t about to go searching through shit trying to find it.”
His jaw shifted. “He should’ve made sure his business was handled.”
“Then maybe you should’ve told him that before his ass got locked up.” He stared at me and I stared right back. I wasn’t standing outside my house scared anymore. He had come into my business and my livelihood. The one place that belonged to me and had absolutely nothing to do with Deuce.
Now I was pissed. “Look,” I said. “Whatever street shit my husband got himself involved in is between him and whoever was dumb enough to do business with his ass.”
The man’s eyes hardened. “Watch how the fuck you talk to me!”
“Or what?” I stepped closer. “You came into my shop fucking with me. So don’t come in here trying to check me.”
He looked around again. “You have a lot to lose.”
My stomach dropped, but I kept my face straight. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You got a business.” His eyes came back to me. “A family.”
I went cold. “Don’t you ever mention my family.”
“I’m just telling you what’s at stake.” I stepped closer. “You’re threatening me.”
“I’m telling you Deuce is running out of time.”
“And I’m telling you I can’t help you!” My voice bounced off the walls.
“He ain’t answering to me right now either!
You think because we’re married I know every move that man made?
” I laughed. “Clearly I fucking don’t. Because if I did, I wouldn’t have been finding out pieces of my own husband’s life from strangers and side bitches.
“You want your money?” I pointed toward the courthouse.
“Go ask the judge to let his ass out so he can get it for you.”
His mouth twitched. “Don’t work like that.”
“Well, neither does coming into my nail shop bothering me.” I walked over and unlocked the door. “We're done.”
He didn’t move immediately and I held it open. “Get the fuck out.”
He walked toward me. When he got close, he stopped. “Tell Deuce his time is almost up.”
I looked him dead in his face. “You tell him.” His eyebrows pulled together. “You seem to know his schedule better than I do.”
Neither one of us moved then he walked out. I slammed the door behind him and locked it. The second that lock clicked, my hands started shaking. “Fuck.” I backed away from the door and my knees felt weak. I hated that this man could walk into my business and make me feel unsafe.
First my house and then my shop. The second Brittany crossed my mind, something inside me changed.
I grabbed my phone. For weeks, I’d ignored every county call that came through.
Deuce wanted me to answer his calls so damn bad, the next time that jail recording came across my phone telling me an inmate was calling I was accepting that motherfucker.
Before Deuce got one word out about missing me, loving me, or wanting his family back, he was going to tell me exactly what the fuck he had gotten us into. Because his bullshit wasn’t knocking on his door anymore it was knocking on mine.
I didn’t have to wait long the next afternoon, I was sitting in my car outside the nail shop when my phone rang.
I looked at the number normally. I would've sent that shit straight to hell with the rest of his calls.
This time, I answered. The recording started talking, asking if I wanted to accept the call.
I pressed the number to accept the call and a few seconds later, I heard his voice. “Hello?” I didn’t say anything. “Hello?” Then he must’ve realized the call actually connected. “Baby?”
“Who the fuck is the Scambino family, Deuce?” Silence. “Hello?”
“I’m here.” He replied.
“Oh, now you're quiet?”
“How do you know that name?” He asked.
I sat up straighter. “Don’t worry about how I know it.”
“Alisha.”
“No, don’t Alisha me who the fuck are they?”
“Where are you at?” He asked.
“Why?” I replied.
“Where are you right now?”
“At my shop.”
“By yourself?” The panic in his voice made my stomach turn.
“Why does that matter?”
“Because I asked you a fucking question are you by yourself?”
“And I’m asking you one. Who are they?”
“Alisha, answer me.”
I sucked my teeth.
“Yes, I’m by myself.”
“Lock the fucking door.”
“It’s already locked.”
“Where is Brittany at?” He yelled.
That pissed me off. “Don’t you dare bring my daughter into this shit.”
“Where is she?” He yelled.
“With my mama.”
“Keep her there.” He demanded.
I stared through my windshield. “Excuse me?”
“Keep Brittany at your mama’s house, don't take her home.”
“Why?”
“Just do what I’m telling you.”
Same old Deuce, still thinking he could give orders and everybody was supposed to move. “See, that’s exactly why I haven’t been answering your calls.”
“What?”
“You still think I’m one of your little workers.”
“Alisha, this ain’t the time—”
“No, this is exactly the fucking time.” I leaned back in my seat. “You’ve been blowing my phone up for weeks. Here I am now talk.”
He got quiet. “Who came to you?”
“Some man.”
“What man?”
“I don’t know his fucking name.”
“What does he look like?”
“Why? You got that many niggas looking for you?”
“Come on, Lisha.”
“No, you come on.”
My voice rose. “Because this is the second fucking time this man has approached me.”
“Second?”
“Yes, second.” I repeated.
“When was the first?”
“Outside our house.”
“What?”
“He was waiting on me when I pulled up.”
“WHEN?”
I pulled the phone away from my ear. “Stop yelling in my damn ear.”
“When the fuck did this happen?”
“A few weeks ago.” I yelled back.
“And you ain’t tell nobody?”
“Who the hell was I supposed to tell? You?”
“YES!”
I laughed. “Boy, fuck you.”
“Alisha—”