Chapter 16 #3
“I know that sounds crazy but hear me out. I’d been getting so many spam phone calls that it drove me mad. So I changed the number when I upgraded my phone. I’d done all of that a day before. That wasn’t nearly enough time to memorize it.”
She searched my eyes. With only Shya’s light snores filling the tense air, I took a step back.
“Aite, let’s run this shit back from the beginning.” I kept my voice even. “Tell me everything.”
Her chest rose and fell as her eyes watered, and I cringed internally. I wasn’t falling for that white woman shit. The kidnapping may have shaken her up, but Bahati wasn’t green to this life. Her dad was in the streets heavy, so she’d been privy to a lot of shit.
“No fuckin’ tears, Bahati. I know the shit was traumatizing, but you’re safe here. You’ve been in my house and not a single thing has happened since we touched down from Mexico. Talk.”
“The day before… I-I went into the phone store.”
“What phone service?”
“Hunh?”
“Bahati…” She knew how I felt about repeating myself.
“Oh, Spectrum.”
“You had that cheap-ass service?”
She squinted her eyes and puckered her plump lips. “I went into the Spectrum phone store and upgraded my phone and changed my number. Then I went to the grocery store—”
“How’d you get from Spectrum to the grocery store, and where was Shya?”
“Shya was with me. She’s always with me. I drove.”
“What type of car? What part of town?”
“I drive my father’s old car. The motor went out in mine some time ago, and since a dead man can’t drive and my mother and sister have no need for it in Kenya, I kept it for myself.”
Her father drove a Lincoln Town Car, navy blue. I’d had many memories of him rounding the corner in it as he gave us our pill and drank order late as fuck. I used to be ready to shoot that bitch up every time he let his daughter convince him to delay our shit because I wouldn’t commit to her ass.
I nodded. “Got it.”
“Okay, so, yes. We went to Spectrum, then home—”
“Old-ass Town car, Spectrum, grocery store, and then home. Keep the sequence right, Bahati.”
“I’m trying to, but you’re looking at me as if I did something wrong.” Her voice rose an octave, and Shya wiggled. Raising my eyebrow as a warning, Bahati sighed.
“Look, a nigga ain’t lookin’ at you no type of ways. I’m tryna put this shit to rest. I’m comin’ up with dead-end after dead-end. I looked you up and ain’t shit come up.”
I watched her closely for a reaction, but all she had was a look of disdain for the conversation.
“I could have told you nothing would come up, Shio. My father, when he was killed… He owed a powerful gang up in New York somewhere. He owed them the product and didn’t come through, though he’d been paid in advance. Little did we know, he had a gambling addiction.”
I’d known her pops had a gambling addiction for a long-ass time. It was the main reason he began stealing from a job that paid him well over six figures to begin with.
“It spooked my mother and sister, so they fled. I’d grown to love Chicago, and I’d hoped that…
I was thinking I’d at least be able to run into you again.
So I paid good money to essentially become no one.
No, I do not have the contact of the person I used.
You know how paranoid Chicago men are. I never met the guy or girl. I just paid my fee.
“After that, I moved to the Southside, hoping to blend in. I didn’t get another job because my father had trusts set up for us in the wake of his death.
My apartment wasn’t anything to write home about, but it was warm in the brutal winter and cool in the summer.
We didn’t have much because I wanted my money to stretch at least until she was old enough to go to elementary school.
We lived low maintenance. I even perfected braiding my own hair. I saved every dollar.”
I nodded. “Okay, back to the day. Spectrum, grocery store, drove Lincoln Town Car home. What apartments?”
“Celestial Crest. Apartment 2-9-1.”
I was familiar with them but didn’t really know anyone around that way.
I hadn’t been to the hoods of Chicago in years.
I could ask Essex if he knew someone from that part of Southside because he still made moves around the city.
For that reason alone, I knew it was a high chance that he did, but he’d also been on the road so much that it was hard to link up with my boy.
Chicago hadn’t felt like home for me in the years before we moved.
Now that we’d been in Jagoda Bay for some time, I didn’t reminisce about Chicago either.
When I did go to the city, it was usually just to the graveyard and back to the plane.
When we were living there, we Cuppacios kept to ourselves and were only cordial to the people we served.
I’d built more connections out here than there, and I knew it was mainly because the money and status had changed.
When you were mob-tied, folks treated you differently—or rather, accordingly.
“I went to Wright Way grocery—God, it smelled disgusting that day. Shya cried her eyes out. We went home, where I bathed her as the food cooked, and after we ate, we fell asleep on the couch. The next thing I knew, I was kidnapped. They kept us about a week, but I’m not sure of the timing because they took my phone. ”
This was new. I hadn’t bothered to question Bahati because I’d felt bad that she’d been kidnapped and had a broken arm.
But if I wanted to find these hoe-ass wetbacks, I was going to have to trace her steps.
I received the call about Bahati and the baby two days after that stand-off in the club.
If they’d had them for one week, that meant I was five steps behind, when I was usually the nigga who was twenty laps ahead.
These niggas had already snatched Bahati and Shya when they came to Jagoda Bay.
“Shio, I’m just as confused as you are. If me spending money on the clothing has you upset, then I’m sorry. I won’t waste—”
“Bahati, I’m not worried ’bout no bread. You can buy fifty Gucci outfits for all I give a fuck. I wouldn’t have given you the card if I were going to monitor your spending.” I looked her over again. “You can buy her some designer shit, too, though. Why haven’t you?”
Bahati had been proven to be a decent mother, but it rubbed me the wrong way seeing all those designer packages for her and hardly anything for Shya.
I would think she wanted to do the matching-mommy-and-daughter type shit that my mama would’ve wanted to do if she’d been blessed with a daughter.
The type of shit Dasani did with Delicate and Scarlet did with Princess.
“I… I thought you wanted to wait until the test results before I started to spend on her.”
“The results are coming. Truth be told, I’d rather spend it on her over you, Bahati, and I ain’t saying that shit to hurt yo’ feelings. I’ll make sure you straight, regardless, but she’s my child.”
She nodded. “Understood. You already bought her a few expensive items. She’s just going to grow out of them.”
“And when she grows out of them, I’ll get her some more. It ain’t shit.”
I handed Shya to Bahati, being careful because I knew she was working with one arm. I would have laid her down, but I didn’t want to chance making her upset again if she woke. All that crying couldn’t have been good for her vocal cords.
“Keep the phone I gave you, but leave the house sometimes. She’s probably crying because she’s bored.
Take her to the movies, the park, or out for ice cream.
My homie has an aquarium restaurant a few hours away.
I can have a driver take y’all there. Go get y’all’s hair and nails done together.
You don’t gotta be locked away. Whoever was after your daddy isn’t stupid enough to go against me, and the Rodríguezes aren’t your concern. ”
Looking down at my Apple Watch, I realized I was falling behind schedule. I turned on my heels before I took Shya back and let her rest on my chest so I, too, could take a much-needed nap. Pausing, I looked slightly over my shoulder.
“I left the keys to the Range on the hook near the garage. You can have that truck. It’s practically new.
Text me all the details of what you did that day, Bahati.
I want to know everything, down to the brand of rice you used and what aisle you purchased it from.
I need your full address too. I can go by the apartment and get anything you need. ”
She’d long known my number, which was programmed into the phone. She would text me every now and then throughout the day, asking where I was, and just like I’d done to Solana, I left her on read. I would respond if it were about Shya, but none of our brief conversations centered on Shya.
“I told you, we barely had much…” she responded.
“Well, I’m sure you got important shit. Papers and mail. Shya’s birth certificate and social. Her shot records. Baby pictures. All that shit. I’ll go get it. Just text me the address.”
She licked her lips—big-ass lips that used to be wrapped around my dick on any given day.
“Bahati, it ain’t optional. Lay her down and get to typing.”
With that, I left her in the kitchen and headed back into the basement. Before getting back on the treadmill, I unlocked my phone again.
My thumb hovered over the camera on the right side of the screen.
My heart stilled in my chest. Thick, dark hair covered her face as she lay in a fetal position on the hard floor.
Closing my eyes, I pinched my nose and counted myself down.
Solana’s usage had been far worse than I suspected.
The drugs detoxing her system were kicking her ass.
Using my index finger and thumb to zoom in, a notification stopped my motion.
Other phone
Texting everything shortly
Other phone
Any specifics you want for dinner?
Other phone
Also, a lady named Uriah keeps texting you. Should I tell her I have this phone now?
I received one more notification, but it wasn’t from Bahati.
Doc2
Bad news. We’ll need to do another DNA test for all three of you. I can get that second DNA test scheduled as soon as you’d like. Check your email for more info.
What the fuck? I thought to myself, refusing to let anything else deter me from finishing my workout.
I would look over the email later this evening and get back to the doctor.
I was specific about who I allowed to do the test because of our predicament: mob, kidnappers, and rival cartels.
Now I was starting to think I should’ve gone to a clinic somewhere like Nel’s crazy ass had suggested.
I swear, if it wasn’t one fucking thing, it was another, and each day that I lived through made my list longer and longer.
I locked the phone screen, pressed play to restart my playlist, which was already connected to the gym speakers, and let the pain of the intense workout wash over my reality.
God first
Make sure the family good
Eye them Cuppacio boys, the little and the big ones
Build a relationship with my brother
Get my brother rich
Health and wellness (ALWAYS)
Stay on top of my mob shit
Keep Hobo alive (DOING)
Get through the meeting with Ines Ledesma
House a random
Find the true reason Solana is here
Figure out if Solana is supposed to be my wife, again
Find a wife that isn’t Solana
Kill every breathing Rodríguez Cartel member (URGENT)
Fuck Bahati up (TBD)
Get my fucking daughter
Get Bahati’s arm fixed
Get to know my daughter (DOING)
Figure out what the fuck I’m going to do with Solana
Leave the mob entirely or marry Bahati or Solana
Get DNA test
Spend time with my daughter (TRYING)
Tell my mama about Shya
Keep Solana in real nigga rehab until she clean
Get SECOND DNA test
Check on Bahati’s apartment
Don’t fuck Uriah