Chapter 73
Nikki
It was a little after ten when I exited the freeway and called Gucci’s motel room. She told me to pull around back and meet her at the back door of the shabby motel. When I pulled up, I saw her standing there with Maria in a car seat. I left the car idling while I ran inside.
“Thank you so much for coming.” She hugged me, then handed the baby over.
“What are you going to do?” I felt bad for her. She looked as if she hadn’t slept a wink in days. Her clothes were wrinkled, and her hair was a mess.
“I’m going to keep running until they find me, I guess.” She shrugged. “Was there a white Lexus parked out front?”
“Yes.” I did recall passing the vehicle on my way through the parking lot.
“Shit!”
“Why? Who is that?”
“Cartier and I did a deal with him a while back. He found out that Cartier was a rat. Now he’s gunning for me because I vouched for him.” She shook her head.
“That shit has been all over the news. They’ve arrested twelve other people including Mario on drug trafficking for the H.O.F. organization. You and he are also being charged under the RICO Act.” I’d come to learn that RICO stood for Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations. It was a United States federal law that allowed for harsher punishment and even civil charges resulting from organized crime. Under RICO, whoever ordered criminal acts could be tried alongside those who executed them. “Gucci, they have pictures, receipts, and even you on tape during a meeting with the Filipino.” I wanted her to know what she was dealing with. “It’s not looking too good.”
“Nikki, I didn’t mean to get Mario in trouble,” she sighed. “Cartier set me up. He had me split up H.O.F., purchased that expensive shit in my name, and put my life on the line with the Filipino Mafia.”
“Gucci, your best bet might be to turn yourself in.” At least being inside under police protection was safer than being out here all alone.
“Hell no! The mafia has connections everywhere. The minute I’m in custody, I’ll be a sitting duck waiting for Bayani’s people to kill me. My odds are better if I stay on the run.”
“Suit yourself.” I couldn’t force her to do anything. She was a grown-ass woman who had gotten herself into this mess. I was sure she would figure out how to get out of it. “It’s about to rain, so we better get out of here.”
“Bye, Maria. I love you!” Gucci bent down to kiss her daughter.
My heart ached for her. As a mother, I could only imagine what she was experiencing. I waved goodbye to Gucci, who stood in the doorway. After strapping Maria in, I closed the door and got into the driver’s seat. I wanted to drive away, but I couldn’t leave her alone. I exited the car again, then ran back up to the building.
“I can’t leave you here. Come on!” By now the rain was coming down hard.
“I can’t put you in danger.” She shook her head.
“Just get in the trunk. I’ll drop you off at the Greyhound station.” My heart would be more at peace knowing I got her to safety.
“Okay,” she said after a few moments of contemplation. She ran out into the rain, and I lifted the trunk. She got in quickly, and then I closed the trunk behind her. Once again, I got into the driver’s seat, and I pulled away from the motel. The white Lexus was still parked out front as I drove by.
The Greyhound station was a mere two miles away. I surveyed the area before letting her out.
“Did anyone follow you?”
“No, it’s all good.” I reached into my purse, then handed her two large stacks of money. When she called earlier, I hit the closet safe and withdrew it just in case. It was a total of $5,000. Although the Feds had raided my house, they couldn’t take any of my property because Mario and I were legally divorced. His name wasn’t on the deed. Furthermore, I had legit money from my book sales. “Take this.” I shoved it into her hand.
“Thank you, Nikki!” She looked as if she wanted to cry.
“Now go ahead and get a ticket on the next thing smoking. When you reach a destination, grab a minute phone and keep in touch.”
“Thank you again!” She made a mad dash toward the bus station.
I didn’t know what was going to become of the situation, but my prayers were with her. I hopped into the driver’s seat, then put the car in gear. It was time to get back home.
Being out in the rain in the middle of nowhere had a bitch on edge. To calm my nerves, I turned on Tamar Braxton’s CD. Hearing her talk about “Love and War” gave me a lot to ponder. Should I purchase another flight ticket, or should I stay in Michigan for Rio? He needed me now more than ever. Either way, I was done being a hoodwife and could actually use the time away from him to go my separate way. So many thoughts flooded my mind as I merged onto the highway.
Beep! Beep! The horn on the car behind me was distracting. The driver must’ve been in a hurry. I sped up to allow him to pass. Beep! Beep! Now they were riding my bumper with the high beams on. I couldn’t see shit. Therefore, I merged into the passing lane in an attempt to shake him. That was when I realized it was the same white Lexus from the motel.
“Oh, shit!” I mumbled. I didn’t want to alarm the kids, but I was scared. Speeding down the highway, I grabbed my phone, then dialed 911.
“What’s the emergency?” the operator asked.
“I’m being followed by an aggressive driver on I-75 North!” I switched back to the middle lane, and the white car did the same. This time he bumped the back of my SUV. “Please help me. I have two children in the car, and I’m pregnant!”
“What’s your exact location on I-75 North, ma’am? Can you see a mile marker?”
I was driving too fast to see any of that. “Please, ma’am! Just use the GPS tracker on my cell phone!” I screamed. By now the children were both crying.
Pop! A shot was fired into my back tire, causing my vehicle to sway from side to side. The shot might’ve slowed me down, but I was not stopping. Boom! Another shot entered the window, shattering the glass.
“Please get us help now!” My car was now rolling on the rim, which meant it was about to stop. Sparks were flying everywhere. I maneuvered the whip as best I could, except one final shot to the other back tire sent us spiraling out of control. Then the driver of the other vehicle slammed his car into mine.
I went flying into a ditch at almost ninety miles per hour. Crash! The SUV only stopped when it connected with a tree. My body was hurled through the windshield and catapulted on the hood among shards of glass.
I couldn’t move my body, but at least I wasn’t dead yet. I could hear three things distinctively. The first was the sound of footsteps coming in my direction. The second were cries of the kids, who sounded far away, as if they had been tossed from the truck also. The last thing I heard was the 911 operator. I still had the phone in my hand.
“Ma’am, help is on the way!”