Chapter 6
"Maybe we aren't cut out for this, Money. Maybe I wasn't cut out for this." —Angel
I miraculously escaped the wreckage with no injuries, not even so much as a scratch. Once police arrived on the scene, because I was fine physically they rushed me down to the station to take statements, along with a few others who were willing to volunteer information as witnesses. However, I didn't say a word.
I spoke and answered questions to keep the façade I was a regular average woman, but I didn't give them any real information. Not that I had a lot of it myself. When they asked me who had done it I said I didn't know, which was technically true. When they asked me the color of the truck, I said I didn't know. The number of people in the car at the time, I told them I had no idea and what a possible motive was, I was clueless.
I had some things to go by, but I was not snitching. The mentality sounded stupid, but it was the environment I was raised in and snitching was a big no-no. I let the witnesses sing and say what they want while I lied or gave wrong information. The officers chalked it up to wrongful identity. They told me most likely these people were looking for someone else and mistook me for that person.
The jeep had been totaled and at this point would be in the shop for a long time or would be scrapped if the mechanics could not fix it. Money was contacted and he had to come get me from the police station. By time we leave it's near ten at night. Money is holding my hand on the ride home, but other than that it was quiet for the most time and I kind of appreciated it.
Once I get in I strip and go straight to the bathroom to shower. I had to stay in over an hour and at this point my skin is wrinkled and white. I was so sure I was dead. Flashbacks of my life going before me, the thought of me dying in the jeep was enough to make my eyes sting.
Just that easily I could've been in a chapel right now with a volunteer church group singing at my funeral. I don't think of myself as crybaby, but the weight of everything was coming down on me. These past few days have been so heavy. First with Capri giving Money the job offer to work in an underground world of crime we knew nothing about, to me finding out I was pregnant, to almost getting my head taken off by a group of unknown men.
It's SB...The words that one of them said rang in my head over and over. It sounded like they were very familiar with their enemy and knew exactly what they were talking about.
The shower curtain is yanked to the side but it doesn't startle me, at this point I'm numb. Money is standing there staring at me, he looks concerned. It makes me think about those guys shooting up the car while I was crouched down, praying Money would come and save me. It was the most terrifying moment of my life.
I do something I haven't done in a long time—I break down and cry. I burst into tears, water from the shower head still hitting my naked body. "I thought I was dead...I thought they were gonna kill me...I was so scared Money...I was so scared..." Gut wrenching sobs bounce against the walls as I try to keep talking, but my English language skills fails me.
Money pulls me into his body, soaking himself as well. He holds the back of my head to his chest, shushing me as he holds me so tight I feel like I can't breathe and it's honestly the only feeling I wanted right now. He kisses the top of my head. "Sshh. I know, everything is okay love, you're okay. I got you. Don't cry."
I continue to cry and he stands there and soothes me. After a good five minutes of nonstop wailing, I finally calm down a bit. Only enough to where my tears are silent and reduced to sniffles. Money turns off the water and reaches for my towel I neatly folded on the edge of the sink top. He wraps me in it and picks me up, carrying me bridal style into the bedroom.
He helps me get dressed by putting lotion on me, putting my panties on and finishing off with one of his shirts that come down to my knees like an oversized dress. Instead of leaving me alone, he climbs into the bed with me and gets behind me, wrapping his arms around me. For the first time all day I feel calm. I feel protected and safe and that alone begins to make my body feel relaxed enough to ask for sleep.
Money is gently running his fingers through my hair. I feel my eyelids getting heavy. His voice is soft and low, almost therapeutic. At times where he has his crazy moments, I can also say he is loving and caring. "Angel, I know you don't want to talk about this right now, but I need you to tell me what happened. Just try to answer me, when you don't want to talk about it anymore just tell me and I'll stop, okay?"
"Yes." I whimper—or moan.
"When you went to the police station, what did they ask you?"
"They asked me questions to see if I knew the attackers and tried to get physical descriptions. Everything they asked I lied or gave them wrong information." I reply, using the same low tone as him.
He kisses the back of my neck and it makes my whole body warm. "Tell me what you do know."
"I was coming back from the doctor's office...I was on this street and a black Chevy pulled up beside me."
"How many people were in the car?"
"Four, they all had guns. I can only remember the driver's face." An image of his face pops into my head. "He rolled his window down and acted like he needed something."
"Was that all? They didn't say a word to you? Just started dumpin'?"
"Yes..." I whisper, trying to keep my voice leveled. It makes me disgusted that there's people in this world that can take human lives on a regular basis for no reason, with no remorse. Money I rob people, but never with the intent to kill.
"Relax," He whispers, kissing the back of my neck again, he can hear the sound of my tone changing. He doesn't want me to get worked up. He brings my hand up to his mouth and kisses it. I can tell Money is furious, but it trying to be here for me.
"Before they left one of them said SB. It sounded like a gang set or something maybe."
"SB?" He questions.
"Yeah...Money?" I say, wanting to stop. It was all I had, anyway.
"Okay okay," He says quickly, "no more questions, you did great. Go to sleep, I'm right here."
In this moment I don't think it's a good time to tell him about the pregnancy yet. I still don't know how I feel about it. To be truthful, after almost being killed, telling him I was pregnant was the last thing on my mind right now. I had plenty of time for that. I take his advice and allow myself to dose off into a deep sleep.
*******
The house phone wakes me from my nap. I have to remove Money's hand from around my waist to get to it. It's out in the living room and my legs almost feel like jello as I struggle to get there. I had been sleeping deeply. I grab the phone off the hook and put it to my ear as I stretch.
"The offer, do you accept it or not?" A male voice says into the line.
"Excuse me?" I ask, scrounging my face up. It sounded like it was a prank call and I was about ready to hang up. "Who am I speaking too?"
"Do you accept it or not? It's not a hard question, yes or no?"
There is a slight pause and I was just about to pull the phone away from my ear to hang up when he continues.
"I can't get too specific over the phone, but you were offered something by an individual."
Right away it rings a bell and I realize he's talking about Capri's offer. I honestly still wasn't sure about this but I knew we had no choice. Those men that shot at me could have been working for Capri for all I knew. "Yes I accept."
"At eight o' clock on Friday night, go to four hundred forty five Willow Drive. No earlier, no later. Dress accordingly." The line went dead.
I also hang up and quickly find a piece of paper and pen and write down everything he told me before I forget. I go to the bedroom and wake Money up. He immediately sits up in the bed, looking at me. "You good? What's wrong?"
"Those people just called, Capri's people. About his offer to work for him, I said yes." I pause for his reaction but he has none, just a nod to keep me talking. "And they gave us an address to be at next Friday."
"Okay."
I gnaw on the inside of my right cheek, voicing my concerns. "Money what if they were behind the shooting? What if we're walking into a trap?"
"Yeah, we could be. But I doubt it, he wouldn't go through all of that to come look for us, offer me a job and then attempt to kill me. But I'll look into it, don't worry." He leans forward and kisses my forehead.
******
Friday morning finally rolls around and Money and I are up to get ready for tonight. It was Money who wanted to relax, saying we were getting ready way too early. But I remember the man saying we had to be on time and not knowing how these people operated or what they were about, I didn't want to test them.
Our Chevrolet truck was completely destroyed, so we had to buy a whole new car. With the cash we got from all the robberies we did and Money selling off that cocaine, we had a rough estimate of $300,000 something, so we had more than enough for a new car.
Money settled on a 2007 Dodge Nitro, it was black with dark windows. Nothing too flashy that would cause a scene, or take a chunk out of our savings. The first place I stop is the salon and Money is with me the whole time. He doesn't ask if I want him there, he just comes, which I'm grateful for. I get the feeling he thinks I'd be safe alone, but just comes for my comfort.
Since it was morning and most people were still at work, it wasn't extremely crowded. I stick with something basic and just ask for a silk press. I have long hair and it's been a while since I let it down. Money is sitting in one of the chairs by the window next to some other waiting customers, buried in his phone.
I get my hair washed and I'm seated under the blow dryer for at least an hour which I'm sure is damaging for my hair. After that I'm transported back to a booth chair where my hairdresser begins to work on my hair. The shop starts to get more crowded as time goes by.
To the point Money eventually gets up and decides to stand, so other females can have his seat. It doesn't take long for the gossip to start, as the females go on from talking about other women they personally know to celebrity drama.
I look up occasionally and even see the women in the shop, checking Money out. It makes me proud knowing they're probably wondering who in here he belongs too; and I'm smiling the whole time because he's my husband.
I watch how powerful he seems in the room. The women can't seem to stop staring. He's six foot three and slim with jet black hair decorated in deep waves. His dark brown sugar eyes are slanted and he has plump lips that go perfect with his white teeth. His voice was a mixture between smooth and a touch of deepness. His aura was definitely felt and he didn't even notice it.
The black salon cape is covering my body, so I place my hand on my stomach. I look at Money who seems so innocent, just standing there on his phone. I was carrying his baby. Our baby. I try to figure what kind of dad he would be if we decided to keep it. Maybe the strict type who made sure the child had perfect attendance in school. Or the fun one that hardly disciplined them and they did everything together. I could picture him being either one.
The hairdresser starts to use the flat iron on me, so I know I'm finishing up. But as I think, reality starts to settle in and I start to think about things. About life. If there really were people who potentially wanted Money and I dead, right now was not the best time to be pregnant. I myself still didn't even know how to feel about being pregnant. I had yet to even discuss it with Money.
I look up, surprised Money is no longer in the shop. I see him standing outside of it, in front of the large glass window. He's speaking to a woman. I can't see her face because she has on large sunglasses, but she is close to my height and has a skin tone that matches Money's. I was always joked about being jealous that Money at least got around and knew people, but even I had to smile because apparently he was not too far behind me in the socially awkward department.
He and the woman's interaction looked funny. They were at least eight feet apart, he with his hands in his pockets and she with her arms folded as they spoke. I couldn't tell if she had an attitude or was just really focused on what he was saying. I can only see a side profile of his face and his lips moving, but judging by body language there isn't much to go on by.
She says something, he nods. He says something, she says something back. Could be a stranger asking for directions, but he doesn't use hand motions or even pulls his phone out once to show her anything. He says something and she then looks in the shop, in my direction. It feels like she's looking right at me, I can't tell with her glasses on but I almost smile back, until she quickly looks away and back at Money. She says something and he says something else. Then he puts his hand out. She looks at it for a moment and they handshake. He walks off and she comes in here.
She goes and kisses one of the hair dressers on the other side of the room which means she's a regular here. They begin to speak and part of me feels like she will approach me and I hope she does. I've never had any real friends and it seems like she and Money know each other. My phone buzzes a minute later and I struggle for three seconds to get my hand from under the cape draped over me.
Money: At the corner store next door, want anything?
Me: No, thanks.
I look up just in time to see the girl coming toward in my direction, but not toward me. She takes a seat in one of the waiting chairs, picking up a magazine. She never even looks at me. I feel like saying I was disappointed would be childish and weird of me, so I won't say that I was.
I can't stop myself from looking over at her every chance I get and when I do I notice her sunglasses are off. She was just looking around the shop. She was gorgeous and it instantly made me insecure. Her hair didn't even seem that bad, nothing she couldn't comb out a little. Her hair was short but it fit her and her lips were really tiny but somehow still full.
Many people told me I was pretty and that I had an aura that made me look like I was arrogant. I assume it's because they thought my eyes were colored that I thought I was the best thing walking on two legs. While I didn't even think my eyes were my best asset. I wasn't ugly, but having one nice trait didn't make you a ten out of ten.
I see Money passing the glass window again and he looks into the shop, pointing at the jeep across the street. I can only slightly nod so I don't get burned with the flat iron, but I guess he saw me because he walked across the street. He was most likely tired of being here. It's been two hours already.
None of the gossip between the customers and the shop owner interest me because I don't gossip and I don't know who they're speaking of anyway. But then a change of subject makes my heart palpitate.
"Did ya'll here about them two guys that died somewhere around club Raid?" An older woman asked. She was overweight for her short height and was getting extensions put into her hair. She was in her fifties, but seemed like the type that liked men barely into their early twenties. A cougar was the term I believe.
"Yeah Ice and Mac!" The Dominican hairdresser doing someone's hair next to me said, shaking her head, "both of them died, got gunned down."
Cougar Lady shook her head, "I know, it was on the news. Found them both laid out by their cars. The engine to one of their cars was still running too when police showed up."
I squirm in my chair trying to convince myself that they weren't talking about Money and I. Not the same Ice and Mac that Capri mentioned. But they were speaking about those same people. They were dead. It was on the news. This was the first time we had ever killed anyone, the first time it had ever went public. Which meant there would be an investigation.
"Shit," Another lady chimed in, sitting next to the pretty girl Money had spoken too. "I'll tell you one thing, whoever messed with them better leave town because them niggas crazy, it's about to be a bloodbath!"
After that the entire salon seemed to chime in, the only person who wasn't speaking was the pretty girl. She instead picked up a magazine and started reading it.
"I know that's right, they said SB gang already found out who killed Ice and Mac. Some couple or something, a man and a woman. Apparently they had followed some girl they believe were one of the people, to some clinic and when she left, tried to smoke her ass in her truck. But police are saying they may have gotten the wrong girl. She declined to have an interview about it. Did ya'll see the pictures of the jeep though? When I tell ya'll that thing was fucked up? I mean all the way up!" Dominican hairdresser commented.
I feel my stomach drop to my toes.
"I don't even feel bad," Cougar Lady said, "whoever them fools are better hope they get away with it, because that gang is full of young niggas and you know they don't care about nothing."
I'm suddenly spun around toward the mirror and my hairdresser puts one hand on my shoulder, running her other hand through my hair and smiling at her handiwork in the mirror. "You like it mama?"
I turn my head side to side, having to clear my throat and force a fake smile. "Yeah I like it, it's really great, thank you." My hair was bone straight and past my bra strap, but I knew the style wouldn't last long, I sucked at keeping my hair neat when it wasn't in it's natural state.
I pay her and don't even glance at the pretty girl reading the magazine as I almost rut out the door.
*****
"And you're sure they said SB?"
"Yes, I'm positive! SB, they said it means Savage Boys. Ice and that other guy Mac were apart of that crew, they know we did it, they're out to get us and—"
"Angel—"
"Maybe we aren't cut out for this, Money. Maybe I wasn't cut out for this."
"Angel, stop freaking out, it's okay. I'm gonna move on these niggas and handle everything, aight?" He said looking at me. He was so nonchalant I couldn't tell if he was serious or saying that to put me at ease. I mean, it looked like the only way to stop these guys were to kill them, but Money was no killer.
We were sitting inside the car outside of Ultramont mall. The parking lot was full now that it was midday. We were parked on the first floor of the indoor parking lot. The engine was off and we were just sitting in the car. I know Money was strapped, after the attempt on my life he'd probably walk with it everywhere. I myself had my 9mm, it didn't really make me feel safer but I rather have it than not.
"What are you gonna do Money?" I whine in desperation.
He licked his full lips, eyeing me with those dark brown slanted eyes. "Don't worry about what imma do, I said imma handle it so don't worry. Now come on, we still gotta get something to wear, don't bother taking too long either because I still gotta get my line up."
I sigh but drop it, because obsessing over it isn't gonna solve the problem. When we get inside we agree on splitting up to save time. I think it's my first time splitting up from Money again after the shooting, but I know I'll be alright in a crowded mall with hundreds of people around.
Money was of course finished first, meeting me in the Armani boutique fifteen minutes later, when I texted him my location. He had a Neiman Marcus bag with him. I settled on a mermaid style dress and beautiful crystal shoes, before I paid for it and we left.
Once back in our area, we stop at Joe's barbershop. I haven't been over here in years. The shop is so small that it looked like it shrunk from the last time I came. It was a family owned business that Joe's father had owned and gave to him. He would probably give it to son when he passed away or was too old to take care of it.
I'm shocked at how crowded the shop is, there's well over twenty something men in there and I want to stay in the car. I was so shy it was crazy, but I couldn't help it. There were men everywhere, but everyone was talking back and forth. It seemed like a friendly environment, nothing aggressive I noticed as we walked toward it. That's how loud they were, I could hear them from outside.
Money and I are holding hands when he opens the door and walks in. I make it a point not to look at anybody. The shop goes crazy as people start greeting him left and right. He has to let go of my hand to give out dap and one arm embraces. He's sure known around the way for a man that doesn't consider anyone his friend.
"That's you?" One man yelled out. I know he's asking if I'm his woman.
"Yeah." Money says, he doesn't have a ring and he doesn't wear one. Money can't deal with jewelry for a long time. To me he gets irritated with anything sitting on his skin for long, even if it's real.
"Just because Money's tall, don't mean nothing, baby! I could give you the world." A fresh old man in a wheelchair says to me. He's probably in his late sixties, but he doesn't look like he was born a paraplegic.
"You can't even get up out that chair. Tryna talk to somebody young enough to be your granddaughter. Shut yo' ass up for I open this door and push you into traffic. Stop playin' with me, Bob." Money retorts.
My palm begins getting sweaty thinking he had went too far, but the shop bursts into laughter, including the old man in the chair. Everyone was rolling. A man gets up and gives me his seat and Money nods his head at him in respect and kisses my forehead, telling me to sit.
I do and watch him go over to Joe the owner. I recognize him and smile when he looks over at me, both of us exchanging waves. Money's explaining the haircut he wants but Joe's already working on somebody, so he yells for another barber to come. Money takes an empty booth seat and they drape a blue barber cape over him. I wonder how he skipped the whole line, until I remembered a lot of the guys came here just to hang out, they weren't actually getting their hair cut.
The men were loud, they debated from everything dealing with immigration, to politics, sports and women. They were also very funny as well, Money was mostly quiet, only chipping in occasionally. I was actually having a good time just listening to them. Nobody was making me uncomfortable, they were all just having a good time. No wonder Money came here so much.
The little bell above the door chimes when somebody walks in. Everyone breaks their necks to see who it is. The door is facing the booth seats so the man is able to see the barbers and customers in the chair before he sees the wait area. It's no surprise that he knows Money, because I see Money's smile extend from ear to ear and the man animatedly tip toe toward him.
The barber even stops cutting so Money can get up. The two dap and pull each in other closely. "What's up?" Money asks.
"Shit I been around, chilling." The man said, his back was to me.
Money sits down and resumes getting his hair cut as they continue talking. I then see Money look in my direction and so does the man. He looks at me and I smile when I see it's TJ. TJ was more of Money's acquaintance, I didn't know much of him. But I've seen him enough times back in the day. He was the man that helped forge documents for me and Money to be able to get married when we were teenagers.
"Hey." I say from my seat, smiling.
"Angel, what's good? You good?"
"Yes."
"Okay okay, no doubt." He smiles politely and goes back to Money.
The men hold conversation until Money is done a few minutes later. He had a shape up, defining his waves even more. He thanks and pays the barber, giving him a tip as well. He then daps up Joe and TJ and I make sure I give them goodbyes too as well as everyone else in the shop before we leave.
Once we get home it's only to get ready. We shower and dress, I even paint my nails and toes a dark green color to match my eyes and my dress. I'm wearing a mermaid style sea green Armani slim fitted dress, with crystal shoes of the same brand, my hair straight down my back and behind my ears so my diamond earrings are visible.
Money purchased a Tom Ford navy blue two piece suit. His shirt was cotton white underneath giving it a good contrast. His black suede shoes went perfect and he was looking scrumptious. With a fresh haircut, standing six foot three in a navy blue suit with dark rich pigmentation, he looked like he owned Fortune 500 companies. And even though the crowd and life we were about to enter was probably illegal, when I looked at him that's all I wanted for him in that moment.
Success. Legal success. Money and I were better than this and one day I hope it got better for us.
"You look so handsome." I tell him, wanting to cancel the night and just have him take me from the back.
"And you look even better, love." He tells me, taking my hand and bringing it up to his lips. "Prayer?"
I honestly knew what he meant. We could be walking into anything and this encounter could literally change our lives forever. And I had a feeling it would. Money and I were probably the last set of people that should be praying to anybody's God. But we do. And we asked that he watched over us. Because we would need it.