Passion for the Heist, page 31
“Nah, Hook is solid. He ain’t gonna talk,” Case assured him. “When things cool off a bit, I’ll pay him a visit and see if I can smooth things over. Whatever lawyer fees that need to be paid are coming out of your end, Pain.”
Once that was settled they moved onto the important business: the money. In total they had relieved the gambling spot of over one hundred thousand dollars, not including the jewels that still needed to be fenced. Even split six ways, they all made out with a nice piece of change. Pain’s end was enough to finally wipe out his grandmother’s debt and still have enough money to hold him down until he figured out what he was going to do with his life. The incident at the robbery had left a bad taste in his mouth, and he decided that he was going to fall back from running with Case and the crew for a while.
The next week or so was quiet for Pain. He kept it close to home and spent time with his grandmother, watching game shows together and eating. It felt good to hang out with the old woman, and it was a reminder to Pain of what he had been missing all the years he was away. Case had hit him up a few times about jobs, but Pain always made up an excuse not to take part. He still had a few dollars left over from the poker heist and was still pulling in money from the chop shop. He wasn’t rich yet, but he wasn’t hurting. He’d also gotten word that the Queen had been trying to reach him. She didn’t have his new number, as he had only gotten his cell phone on the day he got out. She knew where he lived, but her popping up wasn’t likely. Ms. Pearl had never made her dislike of the Outlaw Queen a secret. She always blamed Cassandra for Pain’s troubles. What did she want that hadn’t been said on the day he’d seen her? He started to reach out, but decided against it. There was only one thing that Cassandra could’ve wanted from him: the services of the Blackbird, and he wasn’t in the Crow business anymore. Case was easy enough to turn down, but Cassandra not so much. He didn’t need her screwing with his head while he was still trying to get things sorted out. So he avoided her.
Someone who had been seriously invading his thoughts was Passion. Seeing her at the robbery had been both unexpected and fortuitous. The connection he felt between them was too strong for him to believe that these were some random meetings. “I’m only here for a season, not a reason,” Passion had told him when they met. He hadn’t agreed then and he certainly didn’t agree now. They were in each other’s lives for a reason, though what that was he was still uncertain of. Circumstances aside, she was looking good enough to eat that night. All traces of the robbery victim and the tipsy girl at The Yard had been washed away, and she pulled up on some real grown-woman shit in her black gown and jewels.
Seeing Passion become one of the victims at the robbery had changed the dynamics of it. If Pain was being honest, he wished that he had handled the situation with Hook differently. He was out of line for getting into it with him, especially in the middle of a job, but he felt like he had a personal stake in Passion, and seeing Hook draw blood from her made him react without thinking it through. Whenever he saw the girl it reminded him of stories he had heard crackheads tell about hitting the drug for the first time and constantly chasing that initial high. Passion was like a drug to Pain, and in his line of work, he couldn’t afford any types of habits. He needed to go cold turkey from her, and the first step would be to return her necklace.
Getting the information he needed to find Passion proved to be easy enough. He was the Blackbird, after all. When Pain was still the right hand of the Queen he had access to dozens of little birds: spies who carried information like dry leaves on the wind. Most of his old contacts were gone, dead, in prison, or out of the information business, but he was able to luck up and find someone he used to ride with called Sparrow. Like Pain, Sparrow was no longer a part of the Queen’s murder, but still in the business of information. It took a day or so, but he was able to give Pain a rundown on the girl.
From Sparrow he learned that Passion lived in Harlem. She shared an apartment with a pimp they called Uncle Joe and several of his whores. According to Sparrow, Passion didn’t sell pussy. At least not yet. From what he was able to uncover, she was a decent-enough girl trapped in a bad situation. Armed with Sparrow’s information, Pain began shadowing Passion. He would post up outside her building and watch her comings and goings. She mostly went to work, school, or the store, but didn’t hang out on the block with the other hood rats.
There were a few nights when Pain had posted up across the street from the diner where she worked, off Broadway, and just observed her. He had more than a few opportunities to approach her there, return the necklace, and be done with torturing himself, but he could never find the strength to do so. Giving the jewelry back would mean the end of his surveillance of Passion, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready for that just yet. Why he couldn’t simply let this girl go was a question that Pain wouldn’t find the answer to until he asked, and so against his better judgment, he did.
* * *
The days leading up to her birthday were rough for Passion. All the money she had been saving had been lost in the robbery. She’d had a bad feeling about it from the start and should’ve followed her first instincts, but she was desperate. Each day she was forced to stay with Uncle Joe passed by like a month. It had already been a powder keg waiting to blow, but the fight with Zeta made things worse. Of course, she had run straight to Uncle Joe. Passion hadn’t been there, but Birdie had told her the whole story. Zeta painted a picture of Passion having jumped on her, but Joe busted her ass in the lie. What only a few knew, and Passion herself had just discovered, was that Uncle Joe had cameras in the house. Birdie heard him yelling that that’s how he knew she was lying. Passion was mortified to hear this. She had been living with Uncle Joe all that time and had no clue. Had he been watching her? All of them in their most intimate moments? Bo had assured them that there were no cameras in the bathrooms or bedrooms, only the common areas, but Passion didn’t believe her. It seemed like with each passing day she discovered a new level to Uncle Joe’s depravity. From then on, she made sure that she was always fully covered, even in her bedroom. She would change her clothes under the bed sheets, and when she showered it was always in the dark. Something else had transpired between Uncle Joe and Zeta, too. Birdie wasn’t sure what, because Uncle Joe had dragged Zeta into the bedroom and when she came out she was holding her face and crying. The next morning, she woke to find all her shit packed and was shipped off to work at one of Uncle Joe’s spots in Philadelphia.
Having Zeta out of the apartment didn’t ease the tensions that lived there. In fact, they had increased. Uncle Joe went through the roof when he saw Passion the day after the robbery and spotted her swollen and bruised cheek. The guy at the card game had clocked her pretty good, even loosening one of her back teeth. He demanded to know who had done it so that he could deal with it. Passion told him that she had no idea who the man was, which was the truth. She just told him that she was out with Juju and some dudes tried to rip them off at the weed spot. He forbade Passion from hanging out with Juju so much, blaming her for putting her in harm’s way. Her seeing a lot of Juju anymore wasn’t going to be a problem. After her brother Jay snitched to her parents about her being in the gambling spot, they put Juju’s ass on lockdown. She couldn’t even go to the pharmacy to buy pads without one of her father’s or brother’s people with her. Juju beefed about it, but Passion sensed that secretly she didn’t mind being put on time-out from the streets. That robbery had been a terrifying experience for both girls, but for Juju it hit different. She confided to Passion that this was the first time she had ever really thought about dying. Passion thought about death every day.
Since the robbery, Uncle Joe had been playing Passion closer than usual. He was always checking on her to see if she needed anything, and wanted to know where she was at all times. Uncle Joe had always been overly protective with Passion, but lately he had been treating her like she was made of glass. He was constantly prodding her about how she was feeling and her mental well-being. He’d even broached the subject of her parents’ deaths again by asking her what she remembered from that night. “Nothing except waking up in the hospital,” she told him, which was the same story she had been repeating since the accident. However, that was no longer entirely true. Zeta’s verbal attack had stirred broken memories of that long-forgotten night.
Passion was getting frustrated, and desperate. She was broke and out of options. Her mind went back to Birdie’s drunken confession about Uncle Joe’s secret stash. Joe’s sudden influx of cash when he announced that they were getting into the drug business was as unexpected as it was suspicious. Pimping his girls out had kept Joe out of the poorhouse, but those hustles weren’t enough to bring in the amount of drugs they had started out with. The more she thought about it, the less far-fetched Birdie’s story was starting to sound.
“Passion, what the hell are you doing back here, sleeping?” Gus coming up behind her startled her out of her daze. Gus was a burly Black man with a salt-and-pepper beard and beady eyes. He was wearing a chef’s hat, white pants, and a white T-shirt that hugged his big belly. He was the lead chef and owner of the diner where Passion worked part-time.
“Sorry, Gus. I got a lot on my mind,” Passion said apologetically.
“Well, get out of your head and to them tables. A lot of hungry people out there,” Gus told her.
“I’ll get to it,” Passion said, tying on her apron.
“Be quick about it and don’t let me have to tell you again. There are plenty of girls I could bring in here to do your job,” Gus warned, as he always did when he was trying to spook the girls who worked for him.
“Yeah right,” Passion said under her breath.
“Don’t sass me, gal. You’re the one who begged for extra shifts. You think because it’s your birthday you’re gonna get some special treatment?”
“Don’t remind me,” Passion sighed. In addition to everything else that was going wrong in her life, she found herself having to pick up a shift on her birthday. Working at the greasy spoon was the last place she wanted to be. She should’ve been landing in California by then, watching the sunrise light up the ocean on her special day, but that dream had died when she lost all her money. She was flat broke and back to where she started. The utter sadness of her situation brought tears to her eyes.
“Hey, hey now. I was only giving you a hard time like I always do. No need to cry about it,” Gus said sympathetically.
“It’s not you, Gus. I’m just stressed out.” Passion wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron.
“Whatever is going on with you will pass. I’m sure of it.” Gus draped his arm around her comfortingly. “How about this. Since it’s your birthday and all, maybe we’ll have us a little celebration. We can close this place early tonight, I’ll cook your favorite meal, and maybe pop a bottle of wine or something. Then maybe after that,” he let his hand travel down her arm.
“Don’t!” Passion pulled away.
“Oh, you too good for ol’ Gus to touch you now?” His demeanor switched and he was angry now. “I can remember wasn’t that long ago when I had your ass bent over a box of burger patties and you were screaming my name. Now you’re on some new shit, huh?” He was in her face. Passion’s back was to the wall with Gus’s hands pressed on either side of her.
Sadly, what Gus was saying was true. He had had the fortune of catching her during one of her episodes. She and Uncle Joe had gotten into a nasty argument and he’d said some things to Passion that cut deep. Against her better judgment, she had decided to have a little bit to drink before she started her shift. She didn’t care if Gus smelled it on her and fired her because she was feeling self-destructive. Joe had made her feel worthless and she needed someone to make her feel wanted and it didn’t matter who it was. It had only happened the once, but that was all it took to keep Gus sniffing around her to try and get a second helping. He would do things like press himself against her when they passed each other in the kitchen, or pinch her ass when he thought no one was watching. It seemed like each attempt Gus made to get back in her pants became more aggressive than the last. It was to the point where she was afraid to work until closing unless one of the other girls was there with her. She didn’t trust Gus, but she needed the job too bad to quit.
“You know it ain’t like that, Gus. It’s just that time of the month, ya know?” Passion said, trying to calm him.
“If a horse can go through mud, then best believe Gus can go through blood,” he rhymed. There was a very, very hungry look in his eyes. The only thing that saved Passion from whatever Gus was thinking was when a waitress named Heather came in the back and interrupted them. She was an older white woman and had been working with Gus since he opened the place.
“Gus, you got them steaks ready for me yet? The people at table eight are…” Heather’s words trailed off when she saw Gus and Passion in a compromising position. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is fine,” Gus answered.
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Heather informed him. “Passion, you okay?”
“I’m fine, Heather,” Passion told her, but Heather didn’t believe her.
“Passion, we need you on the floor. There’s a guy at table two. Why don’t you go and take his order?” Heather told her.
“Don’t you see us talking?” Gus snapped.
“This conversation is over,” Heather matched his tone. She was the one person Gus knew better than to fuck with. “Passion, take care of table two. Gus, go get those steaks out.”
Passion slid from under Gus’s arms and rushed for the doors leading to the dining room. “Thank you,” she whispered to Heather as she passed. Passion breathed a sigh of relief once she was away from Gus. Had it not been for Heather there was no telling what Gus’s perverted ass would’ve tried. It was bad enough that she had to sleep with one eye open at home, but the predators were circling at the job, too. She wasn’t sure how long she would be able to go on like this.
Passion took a few beats to compose herself before making her way over to table two. There was only one person sitting there, a man. He had his face buried in the menu trying to figure out what he wanted to order. Whatever he decided, she hoped that it wasn’t something that would require her to go back into that kitchen. “Sorry to keep you waiting. My name is Passion and I’ll be your server. What can I get for you, sir?”
“How about a light?” he said from behind the menu. When he lowered it, Passion found herself staring into a pair of familiar eyes. Eyes filled with great sadness.
“Pain?” Passion gasped.
“You remembered my name. Guess that means I made a good first impression,” Pain smiled.
“What are you doing here?”
“I just came to wish the most beautiful girl in the world a happy birthday.” Pain gestured to something on the table in front of him that she hadn’t initially noticed. It was a cupcake with a small birthday candle in it, like the ones you get from the Dollar Store.
Passion looked from the cupcake to Pain. “How did you know it was my birthday?”
“Three weeks,” Pain announced. “That’s what you told me when we met. You had a birthday coming in three weeks.”
Well, he got points for being attentive. Most men couldn’t remember what a woman said three minutes before, let alone three weeks. Passion was very impressed. She was about to tell him as much and then something occurred to her. “Wait, how did you know where I worked?”
Pain didn’t answer right away. “I … um, I was in here getting a takeout order about a week or so ago and I saw you in here. You guys were swamped with the dinner crowd and you looked busy or else I’d have spoken,” he lied. It was a small lie, but it beat telling her the truth about how he had been stalking her. “Blow out your candle and make a wish.”
Passion thought about it, closed her eyes, and blew out the candle.
“What did you wish for?” Pain asked.
“If I told you then it probably wouldn’t come true,” Passion replied.
Pain pondered her response. “You might be onto something with that. Me? I’ve been of the thinking of wishing for what I need versus what I want.” Pain pulled a jewelry box from his pocket and slid it across the table to Passion.
She eyed the box suspiciously. “What is this?”
Pain shrugged.
Passion opened the box and when she saw what was inside her breath caught in her throat. It was her lockets. Her eyes filled with tears and for a minute she couldn’t compose herself enough to speak. “How?”
“Please, don’t ask me questions that I won’t be able to give you an honest answer to. Just know that I didn’t have anything to do with it being taken. I’m only grateful that I was able to return it to its rightful owner.”
Passion was overcome with emotions. She had thought she would never see the lockets again. The last thing in the world she treasured had been snatched away from her violently, just as her parents had been. Losing it had put her in a dark place, but Pain had turned the light back on. Uncle Joe always said that there was no such thing as the kindness of strangers, but the man sitting in front of her had proven him wrong.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Pain said. Tears were freely streaming down Passion’s face.
“It’s fine. And thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me.” Passion wiped her eyes with her apron.
“So, what happened to that trip you told me you were taking? I thought you would be long gone by now.” Pain changed the subject to a lighter topic.
“It’s a long story,” she said, lowering her eyes.
“I’m a good listener.”
This made Passion smile a bit. He was a good-looking man, thoughtful, and he knew all the right things to say. So far, he had all the makings of a prize catch, which meant that he wasn’t for her. Nothing good ever manifested in her life. It would be just her luck that she ended up entertaining this man and he turned out to be a grade-A asshole or worse, an ass-whipper. Life already had its foot buried knee-deep in her ass, so there was no room for anyone else’s.
