Chapter 8
The next two days, Phaedra sat around her house depressed. She steadily looked out the window in paranoia like she was working security. She keenly watched every parked car, and if something didn’t look right, she was ready to shoot first, no questions asked. She had a gun always in her hand. No one knew about the apartment, besides Meeka, because she had dropped her off. Phaedra had rented it out under a different name and had never frequented the place until now.
She had it furnished nicely with a flat-screen TV, some love seats, cozy chairs, and some modern amenities. She didn’t know where to go from here. Her days were spent watching TV and contemplating her next move. She thought about leaving town for a few days, but New York was the only city she knew. She had no family to go to. Luca, Kool-aid, and her crew were the only family she had and loved. Now everyone was either dead or turning against her.
She had only ten thousand dollars saved and an SUV that had been impounded by the NYPD. Things were crumbling around her. Bad Girl was dead, her friendship with Luca was dead, and her hustling days looked like they were about to be dead too.
The only thing Phaedra could do was rebuild something, maybe find her own connect and run her own crew. She didn’t care what Meeka said. In her mind, if it wasn’t for her, Luca wouldn’t be where she was today. It was she who taught Luca the game, and how to shoot a gun. She was the one who’d introduced her to her first-cousin Tiffany, and if it wasn’t for Tiffany, then Luca wouldn’t have had the high-end clientele she had today. Phaedra had also recruited the girls and one of the most feared men in the city, Kool-aid, and solidified their loyalty to the organization. Phaedra was the one catching the bodies out there, strengthening the Bad Girl name and putting fear in many hearts. She and Kool-aid got their hands dirty murdering rivals, witnesses, and anyone who crossed Luca or the organization. Luca gave the order; they executed it without any hesitation. Phaedra was Luca’s right-hand bitch and would have died for her.
Yes, Luca was a very intelligent and shrewd woman, but she wasn’t like the others. She wasn’t a thug or street. Phaedra taught her what she needed to know about heroin, for example. Luca was a fast learner and picked up on how to play the game quickly, but Phaedra did most of the dirty work.
Who would have thought it would come to this? Phaedra asked herself.
She walked to the window once again and gazed out. It was a chilly and cloudy evening. Feeling like a hermit, she sighed deeply.
Phaedra pranced around her apartment making phone calls. She tried to call her cousin Tiffany, but her number had changed. She tried to reach some old friends, but to no avail. Either their number had changed, or they weren’t picking up.
“I should have stuck with being a dyke,” she said to herself.
Loving pussy had its problems too, but when Phaedra jumped on a nigga’s dick and started catching feelings for him, it turned her life upside down. She couldn’t understand why. What made Clyde so special? Why did she like him so much? She racked her brain to find the reason why.
Her feelings for Clyde came out of nowhere. One day she walked into the Paradise Lounge, took one look at his handsome features, and became stuck on stupid. She started to change up her whole wardrobe, dressing sexier, looking more like a feminine woman than a masculine dyke, and honestly, she started to love the attention—from men and women. She hated to admit it, but Luca did influence her new look. She idolized her boss and wanted to be like her, wanted to love her too. Since Phaedra laid eyes on Luca, she wanted to fuck her.
There were nights when Phaedra’s pussy would get soaking wet thinking about passionate nights with Luca. She hungered to sex her down—eat her pussy out, suck on her nipples, and bump pussies with her. The woman was beautiful, and her body was breathtaking. Men became infatuated over Luca. Phaedra craved that same attention.
Growing up, her life was hard, and it was hell. Her last boyfriend, she loved him deeply. When the streets took his life, Phaedra went into shut-down mode for weeks. But she overcame her grief and dealt with the loss and came back into her own, which never was much. She was plagued with many bad memories, from the violent loss of her boyfriend when she was fifteen years old to being in and out of abusive foster homes from as far back as she could remember.
Phaedra sat by her bedroom window and started to roll up a blunt. She needed to smoke, she needed to escape. She wanted her mind to drift somewhere different. As she placed the blunt between her lips and gazed out the window, she thought about her parents. Never knowing her mother was a disheartening feeling, and her father being killed when she was only two years old only added to her pain.
The first time one of her foster parents tried to sexually abuse her, she was eight years old. The first time she had sex, she was eleven years old. Her mentally disturbed foster brother held her down on the bed and forcefully penetrated her, breaking her virginity and raping her. He was fifteen. From there, it was always some pervert drooling over her developing, young body. All her life, she fought them off. Most battles she won, while there were a few she lost.
Phaedra inhaled and then exhaled loudly. She thought about how her prior boyfriend was gunned down while sitting in a parked car on Fulton Street. Rocky was once the love of her life. In fact, Clyde reminded her of him. He was tall and dark. Rocky was nineteen with a dark goatee like Clyde’s and a strong physique like his. She missed him and thought about him all the time. Clyde and Rocky definitely had similar traits. They both didn’t take shit from anyone, and they both were leaders.
Phaedra had never told Luca how she truly felt about her. And once Clyde’s love had been diverted elsewhere, she felt like she had made the same mistake again.
Thinking about her past, her beef with Luca, her mistakes with Clyde, losing Kool-aid, and Meeka turning against her stirred about some sudden and troubling emotions inside of her.
She continued puffing on the blunt and felt her eyes watering. She was gangsta, no denying that, but at the end of the day, she was still a woman with emotions. She never felt so alone in her entire life. Even growing up in foster care and group homes, she always had somebody or something to turn to, be it a gang, or a boyfriend or girlfriend to comfort her when she was down. Now it seemed like her future was a dead end. She was trying so hard not to let it be.
Fearing Luca may have put a contract on her life, she felt she had to make the first move. She had to lay low for a moment and come up with a plan. Meeka saying that Luca was smart and brilliant was true, but Phaedra had been surviving on her own since she was a little girl. Luca wasn’t built like her. Luca didn’t come up like her. The bitch was a soft, naïve girl who grew up in the ghetto, but she wasn’t ghetto. She ran more than she fought.
As Phaedra was finishing off her blunt, trying to come up with a solution to her twisted life, her cell phone rang. She stared at it suspiciously, not knowing the number calling her. She answered the call warily, holding her breath, thinking it was Luca or someone from the organization. Not too many people had her cell phone number.
“Who the fuck is this?” she answered.
“Phaedra, don’t hang up. It’s me, Clyde.”
Hearing his voice, her breath felt short, and she became apprehensive. Why was he calling her? Shocked, she remained quiet.
“Phaedra, are you still there?”
“I’m here,” she replied with terseness.
“I want to see you.”
“See me? Why?”
“It’s important.”
It was a surprise to her, his asking her to come see him. At first, she thought Luca had gotten Clyde to set her up to be murdered. She didn’t trust him or the situation. It seemed too weird. Clyde loved Luca. Why did he want her to come see him? It bothered Phaedra greatly.
“What about Luca?” she asked.
“She’s no longer a factor in my life. I got rid of her.”
“Rid of her?” she asked, confused. “You killed her?”
“No, I dumped her.”
“Why?” Now it definitely didn’t make sense to Phaedra. What the fuck is going on? she screamed inside of her head.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Phaedra. That night we made love, it was the best feeling I ever had. I was lying to myself when I got with Luca. The minute I saw you walking into my place, I was attracted to you, but I thought the man you was with, I assumed the two of y’all were together. I didn’t want to interfere. So I focused my attention on Luca. She’s a beautiful woman, but she’s not for me.”
Phaedra heard him talking, but it was still difficult to believe him. It could be a setup. She was going through an array of emotions. She felt so vulnerable at the moment, she didn’t know if she was walking into a trap. Clyde could be lying through his teeth. He and Luca both were brilliant and manipulative people. They didn’t get to the top by being stupid. They knew how to use people—how to make them believe in them and trust them.
Her heart was willing to take the chance. She was in love with Clyde. When he woke up from his brief coma and called out Luca’s name, it crushed her. She thought she would never see or speak to him again.
“I tried calling your phone for days, but I kept getting the voice mail. What happened to you? Where have you been?” he asked.
Either he didn’t know, or he was pretending not to know that she had made an attempt on Luca’s life and was on Rikers Island with a gun charge lingering over her head.
Did Luca tell him? If not, then why not? So many questions ran through Phaedra’s head. “I’ve been busy,” she lied.
“We need to talk in person.”
Phaedra was willing to have a talk with him, but it was risky. Her heart ached to see him, but was she putting her life on the line? Was it all fabricated to create her demise?
“I’ll come see you.”
“That’s good, Phaedra. Thank you.”
She wasn’t going alone. She planned on taking along a friend with her, just in case things weren’t what they appeared to be.
***
Phaedra got out of the gypsy cab dressed like an African goddess, wearing a cinnamon-colored skirt that hung low on her hips and a V-neck T-shirt that fit close enough to show off all her assets but wasn’t at all vulgar. Covering her shapely body was a chic coat to shield her from the winter cold.
She strutted into the hospital concealing the .45 ACP in her purse. It was fully loaded and already cocked back. Every step she took to Clyde’s room was a cautious one. She was very observant, watching everything and everyone, and tremendously nervous. There could be killers waiting around the corner to strike at any time.
However, her biggest threat was catching another gun charge. If she got knocked again and caught a second gun charge, there wasn’t going to be any bail this time. It was straight to jail for a minimum of two to five years.
But she couldn’t stay away from Clyde. There was something strong about him that made her take the risk. She felt he was the love of her life. She hoped he wasn’t lying and was genuine with his feelings.
Phaedra stepped off the elevator and made her way toward his room. The floor was busy with staff and patients. Everything seemed normal. No one paid her any attention. She walked into Clyde’s room. He was awake; sitting up and watching TV. He looked much better. When he saw her standing in the doorway looking hesitant, a smile appeared on his face, and he invited her inside.
“I’m here.”
“I’m glad you made it.” Clyde couldn’t take his eyes off her.
She looked around the room, and it seemed empty.
“She’s not here, Phaedra, and I’m not trying to set you up.”
“How do I know that?”
“Because she threatened my life too.”
She locked eyes with him. He seemed sincere, but no one could ever tell. “What did you say to her?”
“What needed to be said.”
“And why now?”
“Because Luca and I may be cut from the same cloth, but I know honestly, she will never be there for me the way I’m going to need her. She’s running an empire, I’m a paraplegic now. This is my second time shot multiple times and lying in the hospital. I survived it then, and I’m going to survive it now.”
Phaedra stepped closer to him, her eyes lingering on his condition. It saddened her too. He couldn’t walk, but he seemed strong. She pulled the chair beside his bed and took a seat in it. “What do you want from me?” she asked him.
“I want to love you. I need you, Phaedra. I need you badly.” His eyes softened, and his voice carried great weight. “I know I can’t do this without you.”
Phaedra took his hand into hers and sighed. She couldn’t refuse him. She couldn’t turn away from him. If it was a lie, then it would be the best lie ever told, and she would be the biggest fool for falling victim to it. But his eyes spoke some truth, and his tone sounded needy, or so she wanted to believe.
She looked at him. “What do you need me to do?”
Phaedra, who had once lost trust in men, fell deeply in love with him, thinking he chose her over Luca out of pure love. Had she listened with her head and not her heart, she would have heard exactly what he said: He chose her because he needed her, not because he loved her. Phaedra was ready to play wifey and do whatever he needed to get him back to one hundred percent. She was ready to start a new chapter in her life. And hopefully a great one.