"Fuck," I groaned as I searched through my bag, receiving concerned looks from everybody at our table.
"What's wrong?" Alexis asked me.
"I left my laptop," I mumbled. "I was working on my paper all night, and I need to print it out for my class at 2."
"You didn't save it to the cloud?" Treyvon asked.
I shot him a glare. "Does it look like I know how to do that shit?" I snapped. I hated these computer science niggas alway thinking everybody was technically savvy like them.
"Well my bad, damn." He went back to eating his food.
I got up from the table and called Clifford. "Hey, are you still at home?" I asked. I really didn't want to walk all the way across campus to get in my car, drive to his house to get my laptop, drive back to campus and then have to search for parking again.
"Yeah I'm not leaving until later, what's wrong?"
"I left my laptop in your office. Can you please bring it to me?"
"Yeah, I'll be there in 10."
I sat down and finished eating my food until I got the text from Clifford that he was outside. I walked outside to see Clifford standing outside the truck with my laptop in his hand.
"You could've stayed in the car you know." I mumbled, grabbing my Macbook from him.
"My bad, am I embarrassing you?" He smirked. He knew exactly what he was doing.
I hugged him, still annoyed. "Thank you for coming, I'll see you later."
I turned around to see my whole table staring out the window at us. I rolled my eyes preparing myself for the questions.
"Yo how you know that nigga Cliff?" Marco asked before I could even reach the table.
I twisted my face up caught off guard. "Nigga, how you know Cliff?"
"That's a real nigga right there. An OG." Marco and Treyvon shot each other a look.
"Uh, what does that mean? Y'all know him from somewhere?" I asked.
"The whole hood knows him, whatchu mean?!" Marco laughed.
"Nigga you do not know him," Treyvon rolled his eyes. "Not even from over here."
"Well I know of him. And I know he ain't nothing to fuck with."
"Yeah that dude is really real." Treyvon agreed.
I just shrugged my shoulders and grabbed my bag off of where I was sitting previously. "Imma go print this paper out, I'll catch y'all later."
I spent the rest of my day trying to figure out what the hell Marco and Treyvon were talking about. At this point, I had to ask Clifford what was going on, who he was, what he did, something. I needed to know something.
————
I pulled up to the club and entered through the back. Once I laid my eyes on Clifford I walked straight up to him and grabbed his arm. "I need to talk to you. Now." I stated as I walked towards his office.
He followed behind me and closed the door.
"Clifford, I need answers, and I don't want the same 'you have nothing to worry about ' bullshit that you've been giving me."
"Baby, what is it?" He asked looking concerned.
"Clifford, are you a drug dealer?"
He pauses for a second and then let out a small chuckle. "Chey, where is this coming from?" He asked rubbing his facial hair.
"Don't bullshit me. Yes or no?"
"Technically, no." He crossed his arms and leaned on the wall.
"So you're what, a distributor? a kingpin?" I asked stepping in his face.
"Among other things." He nodded. "Cheyenne, there's a lot of things you don't know and you don't need to know. A lot of things I am protecting you from."
"That's bullshit and you know it. You're trying to protect me, by keeping me in the dark?"
The look on his face changed, and I could tell he was getting upset.
"Yes, actually. That's exactly what I am doing. The less you know the better for you, and if shit goes wrong, the better for me." He said sitting at his desk.
"You just don't know who and what I'm involved in. I grew up in the streets, running crack, weed, pills, whatever for other niggas. I had no other choices, or at least I thought I didn't. So I climbed up the ladder and got my own. Now I'm running shit. Not necessarily something to be proud of, but I am proud that I created a life for myself. Now drugs don't define me, they're a part of me and my businesses. How you think I bought the barber shop, or the cafe, or this club?" He looked at me like he was waiting for an answer, but I didn't say anything.
"Exactly, drug money. The trips? Drug money. The house? Drug money. The cars? Drug money. Your gifts?" He took a breath as I stared at him. "But I'm trying to change shit, and go legit. And that is why I didn't tell you anything, because pretty soon, there will be nothing to tell. Any more questions?" He asked, waiting for me to answer.
I didn't know what to say. I just continued to look at him.
"That's what you wanted right? Some answers? There are your fuckin answers!" He said speaking louder with each word until he was damn near yelling.
I should be happy that he finally told me what was up but it just left me with more questions.
"Why are you yelling at me?" Is all I could say before I felt tears starting to form in my eyes.
"Cheyenne, come here." He stood up and wrapped his arms around me. "I'm sorry. I'm just frustrated, not with you, just with life. I got dealt a bad hand in this life shit and I did what I had to do to make something of myself, but it still feels like that is never good enough. Everybody still sees me as the boy who was running the streets. Some people who knew me back then still see me as that bad person, and in a way they are right."
"They're not right, Clifford." I said immediately. I could see the conflict in his face and I didn't like hearing him talk down on himself. "You're a good person. I see your heart, and it is pure."
"Chey, some of the shit that I've had to do in order to keep myself in this position, is shit I can't even say out loud. Shit I don't even like to think about. That's how bad it is. I'm not a good person, but I'm trying. And I've been trying to keep you away from this shit. I can't, and won't lose you."
"Lose me, what do you mean lose me? I'm not going anywhere..." I rubbed the side of his face.
He kissed my forehead and opened the door. "Once I'm done with all of this shit, I will tell you everything. But right now, I just can't."
I nodded my head accepting that answer. We left his office and he went back to the back to finish with the shipment, which now I was wary of what it contained. I went and found Tati, who was at the bar checking off stuff on a clipboard as she went through inventory.
"Did you know Clifford was a drug dealer?" I asked, causing her to choke on her spit.
"Chey what the hell?" She whispered as she stopped coughing.
"Did you know?"
She nodded her head and sighed. "I was by Tyreek's side when he started pushing for Cliff and James."
"I should've known." I shook my head. "I should've known from that 'business' trip." The mafia-like dinner scene from my memory played in my head again.
"Cheyenne he was just doing what was best for you. He didn't want you to get involved. That's how he lost his wife."
"Wait what?"
"His wife, Simone. She was killed seven years ago."
"Killed?" I whispered. Suddenly it was getting hard for me to breathe. "For what?"
"For not staying in her lane. She knew too much, did some shit she had no business doing, and paid the price for that shit."
I sat back in the chair feeling light headed. "What the fuck..." I mumbled under my breath.
This was all too much information to take in. But the truth is what I wanted and now look at me. I couldn't believe that this shit was real.
"Chey," Tati grabbed my hands. "You're going to be fine, I promise. You just have to do what Clifford says. He will protect you and make sure that you're good. Simone didn't know how to listen, and that cost her her life."
"Tati I-" I was getting ready to say something else but as I opened my mouth I felt my stomach turn. "I feel sick." I said running to the bathroom.
Bitch what have you gotten yourself into? This nigga is a drug lord or a kingpin or some shit and his wife was murdered because of it?!
I didn't know what the fuck to do. Should I leave the club now and disappear? Block everybody and move away to start a new life?
Or am I being dramatic and just need to relax?
I splashed some water on my face and stared at my reflection in the mirror, taking a deep breath. Tati knocked on the bathroom door before opening it. "You okay mama?" She asked rubbing my back.
"I had no idea his wife was killed... he never told me that."
"He doesn't talk about it. Even though there was nothing he could do, it's definitely a sore spot for him."
"Tati how are you so okay with this shit?"
"Like I told you at the mall, I don't know shit and I don't want to know shit. They tell me what I need to know, and everything else I leave alone. I trust they're going to do what they have to do to handle their business and keep the family safe."
Jesus Christ.
I nodded my head slowly. Okay, if Tati can handle this, I can too.
"You're going to be okay." She rubbed my arm.
"Can you tell Clifford that I went home? I need to go lay down." I said as I walked out of the bathroom. I left the club and got in my car driving towards Clifford's house. When I pulled up, everything inside me felt so weird. Finally knowing the truth did not bring me the peace of mind I thought it would.
———
"Cheyenne?" I heard Clifford's voice yelling as the front door closed.
A few seconds later he came into his bedroom. "You okay?" He asked as he sat on the bed next to me.
"I don't know. I mean yeah, I'm good but... today was a lot."
He looked at me and rubbed my hand. "Tati told me that she spoke to you. So I think there's some more that I need to tell you..."
I sat up as Clifford started to talk about his past. He grew up in Staten Island, New York but got sent down here to D.C. after he graduated high school because his mom didn't want him running the streets up north. Clifford of course got entangled with the wrong crowd down here because he was so accustomed to getting quick money.
"I worked for a dude named Jeff. Jeff was hard on me because he wanted better for me." Cliff smiled. "He was like my pops or something. But when he died, I took over. I never got out the game like he wanted me to. Fast forward to when I met Simone." His eyes looked filled with pain as soon as he said her name.
"I had spent 20 years of my life looking for stability, and I found it in her. She was everything man. She could be a hard ass, but she was certified. Every single day she was by my side on the block, even when I told her to sit her ass at home." He chuckled. "We dated for a long time, 8 years, before we got married. Shit was not perfect, and we got into it a lot but she was so real, she deserved it all, the whole fairytale life. I think being too real was also her downfall. She ain't know how to take a back seat. After 13 years we were more like best friends. I don't think we were in love anymore, but we still had a lot of love for each other if that makes sense. We both needed something else cause we were bad for each other but we were also the only ones who understood each other."
He shook his head and took a deep breath. "The day she died was so crazy because I knew I should've just stayed home with her. We were still living in a small apartment and she hated being cooped up, but I asked her to stay home... I had to meet up with someone to do an exchange. This dude did not fuck with me. I knew it, he knew it, and Simone knew it. I shouldn't have told her I was meeting up with him, but I did."
"I-" His voice cracked causing him to clear his throat. "I met up with him and shit was mad hostile from the second I got there. We got into it, cause I was still such a hothead. Guns were drawn, and next thing I knew this nigga was standing in front of me bleeding from a gunshot that came out of nowhere. I turned around and saw Simone standing behind me with her gun in her hand and before I could even move, his crew had already started shooting. She was gone, that fast." He shook his head. "The craziest thing is she was always a terrible shot. She ain't even kill that nigga." He chuckled dryly. "I eventually took care of that, but nothing made me feel better. Nothing could bring her back."
I sat behind him and rubbed his arm as he spoke. I could tell he was in so much pain about that situation, still. I felt so grateful that he was opening up to me like this, but damn I hated seeing him like this. Also, I could've gone the rest of my life without knowing Clifford was a cold-blooded killer.
"So that's why with you, I don't want you knowing nothing. I just... I can't even think about going through that shit again." He looked back at me.
"Clifford I'm so sorry..." I said instinctively as I kissed his cheek. "I had no idea..."
"I've had years to cope with what happened. Yes, it still hurts but loss always hurts." He rubbed the side my cheek with his thumb. "I'm good. But, I just want to make sure you're okay. Like I've been telling you, nothing is going to happen to you. You just have to trust me."
"I trust you." Hearing what he had been through with his wife made me understand why Clifford was the way he was with me. I appreciated his protectiveness so much more. And I was going to mind my business from now on.
———
The next morning I woke up to Clifford in the bed pecking my face. "What is it?" I asked.
"Nothing, you just look so beautiful right now."
I blushed. "You okay?" I asked.
"Yeah I'm good, how are you?"
"I'm good if you're good." I smiled.
"Then we good. What time do you get out of class today? I need your help with something."
"My professor canceled my only class for the day, so wassup?" I asked.
"Get up and get dressed, I need your opinion."
We got out of bed, took showers, got dressed and all that good stuff and then we got in the car. We stopped in front of an apartment building that read "Luxe: Luxury Condos."
"Are these yours?" I asked Clifford.
"Yeah, I own some of them," He smiled. "I'm setting up an apartment for showings and I need you to help me pick out some furniture."
"Oooh," I smiled with my eyebrows raised. "This sounds fun!"
We got out of the car and went up to the top floor. Clifford put the key into the last door on the hall and my jaw dropped when the door opened.
It was absolutely gorgeous with floor-to-ceiling windows, a big kitchen with stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, and a living room area with a sleek fireplace. Clifford held my hand as we entered the bedroom that also had floor-to-ceiling windows. We walked into the attached bathroom that had a glass shower and sunken tub with a connected walk-in closet that could literally be a bedroom on its own. Then we went to the den on the other side of the kitchen.
"Clifford this place is beautiful..." I gushed over the apartment.
He smiled at me and pulled some papers off the kitchen counter. It had different furniture items on it like couches, rugs, tables, beds, and nightstands.
Clifford walked me through the rooms again and asked me my opinion on what furniture I thought would look good.
"Whoever sees this apartment is going to fall in love with it," I said as I looked over the furniture options I picked out. "It's pretty on its own but once you get the furniture in here people are gonna be fighting to get this."
"Yeah I hope so, I'm definitely ready to get somebody in here asap."
I could see myself in this apartment. I knew that I would love it there. But I didn't want to ask Clifford to let me live there cause I know he can make a lot of money off this apartment, plus he does more than enough for me. I don't want to seem ungrateful. I will ask him after this semester if he could move me into another one of his apartments though. I'll even pay rent, but I just know I will not make it another semester living in student housing.
After the stuff I found out about Clifford and his past, I grew closer to him. I was starting to better understand who he is as a person. Most girls would go running after they found out some shit like that, but I decided that I was going to stick by his side.