Heartbreak of a Hustler's Wife: A Novel (14 page)

It was after 3 a.m., and she had passed her curfew. She was in possession of a stolen truck filled with stolen furs and had no idea when, if ever, she would get Yarni’s coat back. Saying she was in deep shit was truly an understatement.

A Blast from the Past

The next day Yarni was in her office, going over files, when Layla came over the intercom: “You have a Ronald Bledsoe to see you. He says it’s urgent.” Layla dropped her voice to almost a whisper, “But don’t they all say that?”

Yarni hadn’t heard that name since God knows when. “What’s it in reference to?”

“He says he’s an old friend and needs to speak to you about a family issue. That’s all he would tell me. I tried to get as much information as I could out of him. I placed him in the conference room for now, but if you want, I’ll get rid of him.”

When he mentioned family, was he there because he knew something about who shot Des? The robbery? Whatever the reason, her curiosity was definitely piqued. “No problem. I’ll give
him five minutes of my time in the conference room. Please interrupt in five minutes exactly.”

“Of course.” Layla knew the drill. Part of her job was rescuing her boss from people who wasted her time or wanted her legal advice for free. Yarni was guilty too; she was a caring person to a fault at times and got caught up in wanting to assist clients however she could. As Yarni made her way to the conference room, Layla set her alarm so that her boss would not fall victim to another joker.

The conference room was of moderate size on the second floor of the three-level building. Equipped with a legal pad and her favorite pen, Yarni walked into the room. Upon sight, she was surprised at the person who was sitting at the table. She had to do a double take to recognize him. Rahllo?

He’d lost at least fifty pounds. Maturity had suited him well. His skin tone, still black as midnight, had a radiance to it. The last time she’d seen him, they were at a club and he was feeling the effects of the laxative she’d slipped him. It was hilarious.

“Rahllo, talk about a blast from the past. The last time I saw you, you were a shitty mess in the worst way.”

He stood and greeted her with a peck on the cheek. “Yeah, I was.” He didn’t put much into the comment. “But you still looking good, girl. Real good,” he said as he stepped back to get a better view. “It’s been such a long time.”

“It has,” she said. “How can I help you?”

The brightness in his eyes dimmed a few watts. “I don’t want to waste your time, so I’m going to get right down to the point. I need your help,” Rahllo said concisely, and looked into Yarni’s eyes.

She knew that this had to be serious because the egotistical self-centered Rahllo she remembered would never admit needing anybody’s help. Especially a woman—and her, to boot. Things must be real bad for him to come crawling to her. “How so?”

“I never really get into kids’ business, but you remember my son, Rocko?”

“Of course.” Yarni remembered him; she and his mother had had a couple run-ins back in the day.

“How is he?” she asked.

“You know he was just a little boy when you and I was dating. Well, he ain’t no little nigga no more. He pushing twenty, but doing big boy shit in a grown man way. To make a long story short,” Rahllo said proudly, poking out his chest, “he picked up where I left off, running these streets like crazy.” He shook his head. “But I think he took to the streets at a younger age than I did,” he boasted.

Surely this dude didn’t show up at my place of business after almost twenty years to tell me his son is walking in his footsteps as a criminal
, she thought, but asked, “Did he get locked up?”

“No, but from what I can gather, he had a run-in with your niece last night.”

“What? My niece?” He had to be mistaken but in her heart Yarni knew he wasn’t. All she could think about were those sneaky smiles that Lava and Desember both wore at lunch a few days ago.

“Well, Rocko said it was your niece that was Nasir’s girl. But to be honest, there was another girl was with her and that’s the chick that he really had the run-in with.”

Yarni was surprised—but then again, she wasn’t. Her gut feeling from the start told her that Desember was a little hellion. And she had bucked her curfew, had not made it in last night.

For a split second Yarni thought about the conversation she and Des had earlier that morning about Desember staying out all night long.

“So what you going to do about your daughter bucking curfew?”

“I’m going to deal with her whenever she get her ass back in this house.”

“Her first time out she disobeys your rules, just wait until she gets comfortable.”

“Don’t get worked up about Desember. I got her,” Des said, as if talking about it to Yarni was frustrating. She shrugged it off, because after all it was his alleged child, not hers—and as far as she was concerned it was his worry, not hers.

But boy was she wrong; the girl’s trouble had been dropped in her lap now, she thought, and realized she had to iron out this girl’s B.S.

“What exactly happened?” Yarni asked.

“Apparently, Rocko and his boys hit the coat check and robbed the door of some party last night, and the girls’ furs were caught up in the process. Then as fate would have it, they saw the lil nigga at the gas station and jacked him for his truck.” Rahllo shook his head with a slight smile. He was still in disbelief that the girls caught his son slipping as he continued to tell his son’s side of the story to Yarni. “After she didn’t find her coat
with the others, she told him that she’d be holding on to the truck until Rocko comes up with her shit.”

“So let me get this straight, the girls took your son’s truck because he stole their jackets.”

Rahllo nodded. “Pretty much.”

Yarni was sure that there was something to this made-for-TV story being left out, and she intended to find out what it was.

“This doesn’t seem like a terribly difficult problem, Rahllo. I mean, even for the young ones to work out.” Before he could answer, she continued, “It seems to me that the kids can work it out amongst one another. He wants his car, and she wants her coat. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but in our books fair exchange has never been robbery.”

“No doubt,” Rahllo agreed. “But things have gotten a little more complicated. The coat went somewhere else and Rocko is still working to get it back. He’s offered to pay the full price plus an inconvenience fee for her trouble, but he has to have the truck back ASAP.”

Yarni surmised that they were getting closer to the real reason for his visit. “Why would Rocko be in such a hurry to shell out more than the coat is even worth?” she asked, trying hard not to sound like she was cross-examining him, but she was ready to go in on him hard because she still knew he was bullshitting her.

“You were always quick on your feet, Yarni. A brother man can’t get too much past you.” She could tell he was trying to figure out how much information he wanted to disclose. “Well, let’s just say, the Escalade has a few added amenities that greatly increased the book’s street value.”

The foolishness had gone on long enough. “Cut the bullshit, Rahllo. What’s in that truck?”

She could see his brain working overtime. Then he finally said, “A large quantity of heroin. There’s close to five hundred thousand dollars’ worth of dope in a stash spot, and we have to have it back.”

Her first thought was Rocko had to be the dumbest guy in the world to go rob a coat check with a half million of dope in the car. Was he auditioning for a show called
The Dumbest Dickhead
? But that was neither here nor there—the dope was still missing. Rahllo wasn’t the most violent person, but half a million had a tendency to bring the worst outta a person.

“Out of respect for you and Des, I come to you, to try to resolve this civilly.”

Let the truth be told, Rahllo feared Des. And if he knew the girl with Lava was Des’s daughter, he’d probably shit a brick.

Yarni listened as Rahllo went on, “But the real problem is that I put my ass on the line and got a bunch of D on consignment for Rocko.”

“For your son, Rahllo?” she questioned. “Come on, now!” Yarni had heard it all. “Rahllo, you know better than that. That’s utterly ridiculous. For your son?” she repeated.

“Fuck it, he going to do it anyway. I don’t want my son getting fucked up in the game and niggas robbing him with high-ass prices. So if he gonna throw bricks, I’m going to make sure that it’s well worth the risk.”

She shook her head. “This is a conversation for another day, Rahllo.”

“Spare me your lectures today.” He reiterated, “I need to get
that Escalade out of the girls’ possession because they riding around hot as hinges on Hell’s gates, and I’m pretty sure they don’t even know it.”

Before she could respond, Layla came in and reminded Yarni that her next appointment had arrived.

“Give us a couple more minutes.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Layla closed the door behind her.

“Look,” Rahllo said, “I need you to get in touch with your niece and let them know we need to get the truck back from her and I will make sure she gets her coat in return or more than enough cash to replace it.”

Yarni wanted to say she heard him the first time but she didn’t. Instead, she took a few moments to contemplate the entire situation.

Before she could speak, he did: “I would hope that you’d do it on the strength of all the paper you got from me back in the day, but if not I will hire you for your services.”

“That won’t be necessary. No promises, but I’ll see what I can do. Just give me a few hours to try and get to the bottom of this craziness. Leave me a number where I can reach you.”

“It would be greatly appreciated if we could make the exchange today. And maybe,” he threw it out with a stupid grin on his face, “I can persuade you to let me take you to dinner once the business is in order.”

“Rahllo, my husband would kill you.”

“Yeah, I know. But nothing wrong with me trying my hand—at least I’d go a happy man with a full stomach.”

The second Rahllo left the office, Yarni snatched up the phone and dialed Des.

“I’m glad I caught you,” she said when he answered.

“Hey, baby. I’m walking into a meeting right now. I’m going to have to call you back.” He rushed her off the phone before she could get out another word. Just said, “Love you!” and was gone.

She tried to control her frustration by taking a deep breath, then dialing Desember. No luck there, the call went straight to voicemail. Same thing with Lava’s phone.
Young women today
, she thought, remembering when she was the same way. She hoped that Desi would grow up with a little more sense. She then texted both girls.

I need you to call me—heard what happened last night—CALL ASAP!

Thirty minutes went by with no response from either of the girls. Yarni was getting more pissed with every minute that went by. And added to her frustration, Des had still not called her back.
No more Mrs. Nice Bitch
, she thought to herself before punching out another text message to the girls.

CALL ME BEFORE I BEAT BOTH OF YOUR ASSES! THIS IS NOT A JOKING MATTER! CONFIRM YOU WILL BE HERE BY 3PM!

Ten minutes later her BlackBerry buzzed a return message:

We will be there at 2:30 to tell you our side. It’s not what you think! SORRY AUNTIE!
The text was from Lava.

2:30 it is, see you then
. She sat back in her chair and wondered what in the hell had she gotten herself into.

What Do We Know?