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  Wade hesitated to answer. He was too busy thinking about King’s murder. Damn, I was just tailing this mu’fucka a couple nights ago.

  “Wade!” The Lieutenant barked, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Weren’t you on the King case?”

  “Yeah, but I guess I don’t have to worry about him anymore, right?”

  Lieutenant Jones looked at Wade and replied, “I guess not. I guess that’s one less killer on the streets. It makes our job easier. But I would have loved to see his face after a conviction. Too bad it ended like this.”

  Wade was in deep thought and quickly snapped out to agree with Lieutenant Jones. “Yeah, too bad.”

  On that note, the Lieutenant left the room and Wade walked over to his file cabinet and took out the pictures he had snapped of King the night he died. He took a close look at the woman in the pictures, and knew he saw her before somewhere, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  So, that’s what the rush to get out the hotel was for. Y’all killed him and robbed his ass. Bitches are sheisty.

  Wade wanted to tell his Lieutenant what he had witnessed the night of the murder, but he knew he needed a warrant, which he did not have, to put King under surveillance. Since the whole police station was already at odds with him, he kept quiet. In a way, Wade was kind of relieved King was dead. It was one less criminal on his list to take down.

  The Lieutenant walked back into the room and Wade instantly put the pictures behind his back and looked at Lieutenant Jones.

  “Want to go for doughnuts and coffee?” Jones asked.

  “Nah, I’m cool. I’m going to catch up on some stuff.”

  Lieutenant Jones frowned his face and asked, “Wade, is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good.”

  “All right,” the Lieutenant responded and exited the room. Wade took a deep breath and exhaled. He stuck the pictures in his pocket and left his office.

  As Wade made his rounds around the city in his unmarked car, he could not get his mind off of King’s death. Lonnie Wade rode down the streets of New York and stopped on Trinity Avenue to talk to some of the old friends he had grown up with. Wade rolled down his car window and immediately received love from his childhood friends who stood on the corner trying to make their pay. He didn’t agree with what they did, but they were trying to survive, and he understood that. He and his old friends had a mutual agreement. They let Wade know what was happening in the streets. In return, Wade let them know when they were getting hot and needed to lay low. He overlooked their wrongdoings to stay in tune with the streets. This helped Wade find out about incoming shipments and new faces on the scene that were making major moves.

  “Yo, what up, kid?” one of the men on the corner yelled out as he and Wade showed each other love.

  “What’s good, Dill?” Wade replied. Dill looked inside the car, saw Lonnie’s face, and threw his hand up to let them know it was cool.

  Dill walked over to the car and said, “Jules left town and is coming back on Friday with a major shipment. I don’t know how he getting them here. I just know it’s coming on Friday. He talking big shit, like he’s about to take over the streets with some new shit from Jersey. He fuckin’ with Li’l Shay from around the way, and she can’t keep her mouth closed. She said he got a spot over there on Lennox in some other chick’s name.”

  Lonnie shook his head and replied, “Good, Good. I’ve been looking for Jules. He skipped bail a couple of months back. There is going to be a sweep today at four. I advise you to take a break today and lay low.”

  They both slapped hands and Lonnie Wade pulled off. Damn, Harlem don’t sleep. As soon as one drug dealer’s gone, another one wants to takes his spot. Everybody wants to be king of New York. Now this nigga Jules is trying to flood the streets. It’s not happening.

  Zya sat on the Greyhound, listening to her Mary J. Blige CD, not paying attention to any particular thing. She was on her way back home from picking up some bricks of cocaine from Torey Snow, Jules’s coke connect. She closed her eyes and slowly bobbed her head back and forth until she heard a distant voice addressing her and someone tapping her arm.

  “Excuse me, miss . . . Excuse me!” a middle-aged white lady said with an aggravated tone. Zya slowly pulled down her headphones and looked at the lady like she was crazy.

  “May I help you?” she said.

  “Your music is extremely loud. Do you mind turning it down a bit?”

  No, this bitch didn’t, she thought as she plastered a forced grin on her face. It took all of Zya’s willpower not to tell that old-ass lady about herself.

  “Sorry about that. I’ll turn it down a little,” she said as she rolled her eyes and put back on the headphones. Zya was boiling, and knew the lady was uncomfortable sitting by her, because when she first boarded the bus and sat down, she turned up her nose. If this were any other time, Zya would have told her off, but the fact that she had ten kilos of cocaine in her duffle bag humbled her. She didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention to herself. She turned down the music and looked out the window.

  Zya noticed that the bus had reached New York’s Port Authority bus station, and she was home safely. She took a deep breath and waited for the bus to stop. Zya had been taking these trips for Jules once a month, every first Saturday. She went to meet Jules’s connect, Torey Snow, from Newark. He would be waiting for her in front of the station, where they would make the switch. He would drive around the block a couple of times then let her back out. It was always a quick procedure. Amir, who couldn’t be any older than eighteen, usually picked her up once she got back to New York. He was a little nigga that Jules hired to transport Zya on occasions like this.

  Zya was glad to be in New York, safe and sound. She stepped off the bus with a Bible in one hand and the bag in the other. Jules always made her wear “church lady” clothes and tote a Bible when making her runs to Jersey. He said she would be less likely to be selected for random searches. Zya hated her attire, but she knew Jules was right.

  Zya entered the station and noticed it was emptier than usual. The bus had arrived a little earlier than expected, so she would have to wait a little before her ride would be there. She couldn’t call Jules and tell him to send the whip, because Jules didn’t allow her to call him while traveling. He was very paranoid and remained cautious of everything. He was wanted on a two-year-old drug trafficking charge, and was on the run. He avoided using cell phones. He said all cell phones were tapped.

  Zya spotted a bench and walked over to it to have a seat. She took off her big church hat and wiped the sweat that had formed on her forehead. She looked around the station and noticed a uniformed police officer walking a hound dog through the station. She immediately grew nervous, and her first thought was to leave the bag and relocate, but they were headed in her direction. She didn’t want to look suspicious, so she stayed put. She tried to look as casual as possible, but she had the shakes. She cracked open her Bible and pretended to read as the officer and the dog approached her.

  Oh shit, oh shit. I’m caught. Okay, okay, stay calm, Zya. Damn, they’re coming my way. Fuck it! I’m about to take off. A bitch ran track in high school. I got a chance.

  The dog had his nose buried on the floor and was slowly approaching her duffle bag. “What you got boy?” the chubby redneck said as the dog led the police officer over to her. Just as Zya was about to take off, a loud voice came from a few feet behind her.

  “Fuck that shit, man! This is some bullshit!” the man said as he banged on the glass where you purchased tickets. He continued to yell and make a scene. The police officer quickly focused his attention on the man, and put his hand over his gun. The man began to pound on the window forcefully, causing all eyes to be on him. The officer quickly went over to the man to try to calm him down, but the man continued to be confrontational.

  “You mean to tell me y’all don’t have any routes to Flint, Michigan? My mu’fuckin’ brother’s funeral is tomorrow! Y’all told me on the phone
that I could buy a one-way straight to Flint.”

  Zya immediately recognized the man’s face. It was Amir. He winked his eye at her in the midst of the chaos. As soon as the officer began speaking to an irate Amir, Zya got the hell out of dodge. She picked up her bag and took advantage of the distraction Amir had provided for her. Her heart raced as she hurried out of the station, hoping she wouldn’t get caught.

  She made it safely outside and began to walk briskly toward the alley where Amir always parked. When she was finally safe inside his Blazer, she quickly began to take off her shirt and church hat. Just as she finished, she saw a couple of security guards throw Amir out of the station, nearly tossing him onto his ass. Amir continued to yell until they were out of sight.

  “This bus station ain’t shit. That’s why I fucks with them trains. They know how to treat a brotha.” When the coast was clear, Amir’s frown turned into a smirk, and he ran up the street and jumped into the car. Amir started the car and drove away, his tires screeching as they got the hell out of dodge.

  “I’m glad I came in to use the bathroom. That was perfect timing.”

  “Who you telling? I thought it was a wrap. Good thinking, Amir. I was just about to take off on his ass. Flow Jo wouldn’t have had shit on me,” Zya said with laughter in her voice as she leaned her seat back and took a breath of relief. “You could have won an Oscar for that little performance. You had them thinking you were about to nut up in there.”

  “The shit worked,” Amir stated, shrugging his shoulders. He turned up the stereo and they both relaxed as they made their way back to home sweet home—Harlem.

  Zya and Amir pulled onto her block and noticed all the police cars that had gathered. As they got closer, they realized that the police were in front of Zya’s spot.

  “What the hell is going on?” she asked as she sat up in her seat and looked at the chaos that was happening at her place. Men wearing NYPD jackets were moving shoeboxes out of the house, and she knew that’s where Jules kept all his cash. Then she saw Jules getting escorted out in handcuffs. He still had a blunt hanging out of his mouth as they pulled him out the house.

  Amir looked closely at the situation and lightly mumbled, “Damn, Jules,” as he realized that the law had finally caught up with him. Zya’s heart dropped, and she was in total shock. Zya locked eyes with Jules as Amir maneuvered the car slowly past the scene. Zya’s eyes began to water as she saw the police carry her man off in cuffs. She wanted to get out and do something, but she was stuck. She had ten bricks of cocaine in the car.

  Zya felt as if someone had just shot a dart straight through her heart as she leaned back in the chair and whispered, “Pull off, Amir.”

  Look at this pot-belly redneck. I’ve been waiting here for thirty minutes, and he still hasn’t told me what Jules’s bond is. Look at him, smirking and shit.

  “Excuse me, sir. I’ve been waiting for you to look up my boyfriend’s information for about—”

  “He was shipped to Riker’s Island this morning. You can take it up with them, but the way his rap sheet is looking, he’s not getting out for a while,” the chubby officer said with pleasure.

  Ain’t this ’bout a bitch? He knew all along that Jules wasn’t even here. I hate pigs. This is some bullshit.

  “Thank you for nothing,” Zya said as she stormed out of the precinct.

  What am I supposed to do? I can’t go back to the house that Jules got caught in. I have nowhere to go. I am going to have to see if I can crash at Vita’s spot for a while. Damn!

  Zya stormed to the curb to flag down a cab and suddenly became nauseous. She felt a hot flash, and before she knew it, she was on the ground throwing up her breakfast. “Oh God,” she whispered as she gasped for air.

  After a couple of minutes, she gathered herself and stood up. What the hell is wrong with me? She managed to hail a cab, and flopped in the back seat. She told the driver where her best friend, Vita, lived, and closed her eyes, trying to ease the pain. She needed to go see Jules as soon as possible.

  Chapter 2

  Dilemma

  Zya waited nervously as she sat in the waiting area. Her stomach was doing somersaults for more than one reason. Jules had only been locked up for a couple days, and her world had been turned upside down without him. She didn’t know how long he was supposed to be locked down, and she didn’t know how he would feel about her pregnancy.

  she looked around the waiting room, and it seemed like every woman in there shared the same story. Everybody seemed to be carrying nine months of baby weight with them. They were all doing the same routine, visiting a baby daddy that was locked up.

  Zya could feel the tears building in her eyes as she thought about her own circumstance. She loved Jules, there was no doubt about that. She had done things for him that she would not do for any other, but there was something in the back of her mind that was causing her to have doubts. She didn’t want to raise a child without a father. She knew that it would be too hard, and she didn’t know if she could do it on her own. She knew the type of man that Jules was, and he was a stand-up type of nigga, but if he did serious time, it would be out of his power. He would have no choice but to be absent from his baby’s life.

  She also didn’t know if she would be able to take care of a child. Jules hadn’t been locked up a week, and she was already out on her ass. At nineteen, she had seen plenty of money go through her hands. Jules always kept her with fat pockets. It wasn’t uncommon for her to blow a couple thousand on just clothes, and she never once thought about putting any up for a rainy day. She hadn’t saved anything because she always thought that the money would come just as fast as she spent it.

  I can’t even take care of myself. How am I supposed to support a baby on my own?

  Zya was consumed by her thoughts of motherhood. She was in love with Jules almost since the first day she met him three years ago, but she was overwhelmed by everything that was happening. She knew that she could stick by him and ride with him during a prison sentence, but she also knew that it would be ten times harder to do with a baby to worry about. Under normal circumstances, it would have been something to celebrate, but with Jules in jail, it felt more like a burden.

  “Zya Miller!” the guard yelled, interrupting her train of thought. Anxiety overcame her as she rose slowly from her seat. Her heartbeat quickened, and she had to take a deep breath to calm down.

  Will he be happy? What is he going to say? she thought as she walked into the visiting room. She saw Jules sitting in a burnt orange jumpsuit, and she approached him. He smiled when he saw her, and the sight of him put her mind at ease.

  I don’t even know why I was tripping, Jules is gon’ make sure me and our baby is taken care of, she told herself as she sat down.

  “Are you okay?” she asked him as soon she picked up the phone.

  “Yeah, I’m good now that I see you. Are you okay? Where you staying?” he replied. He knew that Zya would not be dumb enough to go back to her house. He was just glad that she had not been inside when the raid took place. Everything was in her name, though, and once the police realized it, they would be looking for her.

  “I’m staying at Vita’s,” she replied skeptically, knowing that Jules wouldn’t be too fond of that idea. Vita lived with her boyfriend, Heavy, and they always had niggas running in and out of their crib. Zya didn’t really want to stay there either, but she couldn’t be choosy. She had to rest her head wherever she could . . . at least for the time being.

  “Too many niggas be through her spot. You know I don’t play that shit,” Jules said. He was noticeably steamed.

  “Baby, it ain’t even like that,” she argued, trying to reassure Jules.

  “No! Fuck that, Zya. Call my li’l nigga, Amir. He’ll put you up for a minute,” Jules stated.

  “Jules, that boy is still staying at home with his mama. He ain’t got shit, especially not a room to be offering me,” Zya stated.

  “Check into a hotel then,” Jules replied adaman
tly.

  Zya knew that Jules was hot. He had a jealous streak a mile long, and had been known to smack a couple niggas around who had looked at Zya a second too long. That was one of the reasons why she loved him so much, though. He wanted her all to himself.

  “I don’t have any money, Jules. I’m broke. I’m not trying to argue with you about this. That should be the last thing on your mind. I love you and I’m wit’ you, so let’s leave it at that. It’s only temporary, anyway, so why trip? It ain’t like I love staying with Vita either, but we gon’ have to deal with it for now, at least until you get out.”

  Zya looked at Jules with sincerity, deep sincerity, and saw his anger begin to fade away. The look in his eyes made her feel better about what she was about to tell him. He loved her, and she knew that he did. There was no way he would leave her and his seed on stuck.

  “I love you, Jules,” she said as she placed her delicate fingers against the cold glass.

  Jules put his hand on the glass and took a deep breath before saying, “I love you, too, Zya.”

  Zya opened her mouth, but no words came out. She looked at her hand pressed against the glass. I can’t even touch him, she thought sadly. She inhaled deeply then said, “I’m pregnant.”

  Jules’s eyes shot wide open and his head dropped to his chest. He took his hand back from the glass and gripped the edge of the metal table. Zya’s heart dropped as she watched the disappointment fill his face, and a hollow feeling formed in her stomach. His actions spoke louder than any words could ever do, and she instantly felt hurt. After all they had been through, she expected more from him.

  “You don’t have nothing to say?” Zya asked in disbelief. Her voice was shaky from trying to conceal the many emotions she was feeling.