was your stay Mr. Ascot?” a paparazzo asked.
“How’d you like to be cooped up in a police precinct answering questions all night without being charged? And to make matters worse, I was the victim of a crime. Despite all that provocation, I’m doing real well. My songs are popping off the charts and I’m about to embark on a new project…”
“Why were you in taken in?”
“I don’t know. Maybe the detective is a strong advocate for censorship of my music.”
“What was the charge?”
“No charges have been leveled at Mr. Ascot at this time or any other time. An apparent robbery attempt was made earlier today…” the attorney started.
Eric slipped past the crowd, blinking and reaching for his shades, when he spotted someone who looked like Sophia. He stared and he felt a rush of adrenalin when he realized it was indeed his ex-fiancée.
“Well, I see you’ve not lost all your usual charisma, Mr. Ascot,” Sophia said, smiling.
“Sophia, what the hell are you doing here?”
“Don’t worry. At the behest of my boss, I’m here to get your signature on some of Busta’s paperwork. Otherwise, I would not come and see you. This is strictly business!”
The impatience in her tone drew a cautious stare from Eric. Sophia was his fiancée but after Busta was killed, he had to sure up security. Eric did so with the help of the Maruichi brothers. They were linked to organized crime. Citing fear for her life and reputation, Sophia walked away. Eric pulled up his Marc Jacobs goggles, wrapping his eyes while looking searchingly in hers. The love was there but she had lost respect for his ways. He smiled easily.
“Business, huh?” he asked.
“Yes Eric, business. I don’t want to know why you’re in and out of jail.”
“I’ve been held and interrogated by the police and you come—”
“I’m not interested in your ghetto point of view,” Sophia said, raising her hand.
“I see you haven’t lost the nasty little attitude of yours. Do you want to discuss this business here, or should we go somewhere else where you can rake me over the fire in private?” Eric asked, looking around for a cab.
“I’ve got the firm’s chauffeur if you want to go somewhere,” Sophia said, turning away from Eric. His eyes checked her out from head to toe. He licked his lips and felt the lump in his throat.
“Good. Give me a ride cross town,” he said with his eyes riveted on her backside.
“What’s across town?”
“I have to get Deedee,” Eric said casually.
“Oh, she doesn’t have a ride?”
“Yes but she’s at St Vincent’s with her—”
“What? What is she doing at the hospital…?” Sophia stared at Eric anxiously.
“I’ll tell you about it on the way there.”
“No,. Tell me now. What happened to Deedee?” Sophia asked, grabbing Eric’s arm. “I’m sorry, but you just can’t say something like that, especially about Deedee, and walk away. I know she was…”
“It’s not Deedee. It’s Coco. She was shot last night.”
“What? Coco? You mean... Coco... we saw her, I saw her performing and... Oh my God! Is she dead…?”
“She’s holding on,” Eric said.
Sophia waved for the car and a black Cadillac stretch pulled over to stop in front of them.
“What happened?”
“Let go of my arm and I’ll tell you about it on the way.”
Sophia freed his arm and he held the door. Getting into the car, she wobbled and Eric steadied her.
“Thank you,” she said and nervously sat. “Tell me what happened, Eric.”
CHAPTER 3
“Oh shit. It was on when ‘em damn Chinese bitches got up in there, Kim. The bitches sprayed the whole place and not one single shot touch me or my son. Thank you God,” Tina said, making the sign of the cross across her chest. “Cuz, if they would’ve hit me or Junior it would really be on.”
Tina hugged herself and puffed hard on the cigarette. Under the cold scrutiny of Kim, she snuffed out the rest of the cigarette into an ashtray. They were sitting in Kim’s destroyed two-bedroom apartment. Tina was there after leaving her son at her parents’ apartment. Kim shook her head and stared at Tina with pity.
“Bitch, shut the fuck up! If them Chinos would’ve shot you, it be over. That’s all there is to it—”
“Why you gonna say it like that, Kim? I wasn’t part of Nesto’s mix up. He the one they were after. I mean I had no—”
“Bitch, don’t you know I know? Those same muthafuckas roll up in this crib on my ass. They killed Carlos, right out there in the hallway. That shit had the police all up in here. Lucky thing Roshawn was with me or else… Shit! You talking bout a scared-ass bitch. I went straight to church.”
“Kim, youwent to church? See, now I know anything is possible.”
“Don’t talk like I don’t be going? I goes to church. Last Easter I went to church.”
“Easter? That was months ago.”
“Okay, but when was the last time you went to church?”
“Don’t start acting and talking like you a regular and all that. If it wasn’t on account of Carlos being in here up that coochie your ass would never have gone again until next Easter.”
“Nah, I would’ve gone on Thanksgiving and Christmas,” Kim said.
“What? You the type that be going only on holidays?”
“Damn Skippy, and special occasions too, like when your boy and his friends goes and steals shit that’s not theirs. I knew it.”
“You know what?”
“I knew Ernesto was nothing but trouble. Can’t say I never told you. And what you mean up in my coochie?”
“Ha, ha,” Tina snickered. “I thought you didn’t hear. But your ass wasn’t telling me nothing like that, okay. You were telling me to give him one more chance—”
“Me? I wasn’t saying no shit like that,” Kim countered. Her tone was an octave higher. “Your crotch was on fire as soon as you saw the no good bastard. Your ass didn’t even remember who your real friends was. If those bitches hadn’t put the fear of God in your ass, you’d still be home cooking damn rice and beans for the lazy ass nigga.”
“Pipe down, Kim. You’re gonna burst a damn blood vessel.”
“You should’ve told them Chinese bitches with the Uzi’s or whatever machine guns those was to pipe down. I bet you never say shit to them, huh?”
“No-muthafucking-way-Jose was I opening my fucking mouth. Shit, I was in a heller shock. I couldn’t even speak if I wanted to, not one damn word…” Tina’s voice trailed and her eyes wandered around Kim’s ruined living room.
“So why do you think it’s okay for you to come up in here and shoot your mouth off then tell me to pipe down? Answer that one, bitch.”
“I’m saying be easy with your mouth, bitch. You gonna wake up your own son.”
“You leave Roshawn outta this, alright? Lucky thing he’s able to sleep after all this horror.
“Where’s he at?”
“In