A LaLa Land Addiction (6 page)

“You know this ain't my flow,” Noah said as he pulled up to the club.

“What do you mean? This is your city, baby. These are your people. The whole city came out to celebrate your birthday with you. Just loosen up and try to have a good time. What's the point of making money if you don't enjoy it?” Naomi replied with a pretty pout as she leaned over the armrest and kissed his lips. “It'll be fine. Just give it thirty minutes. If you not feeling it after that we out, a'ight?”

“Yeah, a'ight,” Noah replied as he stepped out of the truck and handed his keys to the valet.

Naomi held out her hand for him as he walked around the front of the truck. Noah cleaned up nice. He looked like new money as he entered the club, but he was easily outshined by his lady. The short, skintight Valentino dress she wore turned the heads of every man and woman in the room.

“You make me have to knock a nigga head off in here tonight,” Noah whispered in her ear.

Naomi gave him a coy smile as they were led to their booth in VIP. The music in the club was deafening and Noah was out of his element. He didn't vibe like this. He was too low-key for the spotlight, but when Naomi grabbed a bottle of champagne and sprayed it on the crowd below he knew they weren't leaving anytime soon. It was just the two of them, like Bonnie and Clyde, turning up in their own little world. All eyes were on them. Word had spread throughout the city that Noah had risen to the top. He was the man to see if you were trying to make a little paper. While other hustlers was putting bullshit product on the street, Noah had grade-A dope, straight off the boat. He had the plug, so he had the power, but as he sat in VIP he realized Khadafi was right; Noah needed to build a team. He was feeling too naked. He only had two eyes circulating the club. He was heavily outnumbered by the hundreds who were trying to take a peek at him. He couldn't watch everybody at once. There were too many hands tucked and too many niggas full of envy for him to monitor dolo. It only added to his discomfort. Naomi noticed and walked up to him, winding her body to the beat circulating through the club. “Relax, babe,” she said. She handed him a glass of champagne and lifted her own.

Noah downed the drink and then said, “I need something stronger. The waitress is too slow. You want something from the bar?”

Naomi shook her head and Noah descended the steps as he squeezed his way through the thick crowd. He was halfway through the crowd when he locked eyes with someone familiar. Noah couldn't place the face, but the look of malice coming toward him made the hair stand up on the back of his neck. Noah reached for his hip, but he lost the draw when he looked up and saw a .45 pointed in his direction. He couldn't react quickly enough. He froze, anticipating the gunshot that would end his young life.

Bang!

A melee erupted and Noah turned just in time to see a man behind him drop instantly. Noah turned in bewilderment as he realized he had almost had his head blown off. He turned back to see the gunman fleeing with the rest of the crowd. Noah looked toward VIP and didn't see Naomi anywhere.

“Naomi!” he shouted as he aggressively pushed through the frenzy.

He made his way outside, his hand planted firmly on his hip and his head on a swivel as he searched for Naomi.

A black Mercedes-AMG truck with tinted windows pulled up on him and Naomi jumped out of the passenger side. “Oh my God!” she screamed as she hugged him.

Noah noticed the shooter behind the steering wheel. Noah lifted his shirt slightly, exposing the burner he carried.

“No issues, homeboy,” the driver said before speeding off.

Noah grabbed his truck from the valet and hurriedly pulled away from the club.

“You know that nigga?” Noah asked.

“
You
don't? He said he was your people,” Naomi replied, confused. “That's the only reason I even got in his truck. I saw what he did for you. If it weren't for him, you would have been the one circled in chalk on the dance floor. The guy he shot had a gun pointed at the back of your head. I thought you knew him.”

Noah didn't respond as he tried to filter through his memory to pinpoint how he knew the shooter. He was drawing blanks, but he knew that his days of walking around unprotected were over. His one-man army was no longer enough. He was grateful for Khadafi's gift. It was time to switch up his routine.

“Where are we going?” Naomi asked as she looked out of the back windshield. “Aren't we going the wrong way?”

“Sit back, I've got a surprise for you,” Noah said.

*   *   *

“Whose house is this?” Naomi asked as Noah pulled up to the new home.

“It's mine,” Noah replied.

“Quit bullshitting,” Naomi said jokingly as she hit him playfully.

“No bullshit,” Noah said humbly as he pulled out the key. He handed it to her and she looked at him, mouth wide open as her chin hit her chest in disbelief.

“Go ahead,” Noah said as he nodded toward the house.

Naomi rushed out of the truck excitedly and ran into the house. As Noah followed he was stopped by the flashing of headlights. He turned to find the same black truck from the club. Noah pulled his pistol without hesitating and held up his arms.

The driver of the truck drove toward Noah and rolled down his window. Noah saw the man from the club, only this time much clearer. “You can put your burner up, fam. I come in peace,” the guy said. “Khadafi sent me. I'm Messiah.”

“Bookie's son,” Noah said.

Messiah reached his hand out the window and they shook before clasping fists in respect.

“Good looking out on that work you put in back there,” Noah acknowledged.

“We don't even got to speak about that,” Messiah replied. “You too large to be moving dolo, though, bruh. I see you got Shorty in there waiting on you, but let's rap when you get a minute. I got a team. We ready to work when you ready. Everybody solid too.”

“Yeah?” Noah asked.

“All day battle-tested, my nigga,” Messiah answered with a subtle arrogance that let Noah know it was fact.

“Hit my line tomorrow so we can chop up the details,” Noah said. “I'll bless you for that play you put down tonight.”

They shook hands once more. “Real niggas don't do it for that, but I'm looking forward to it, bruh.”

Noah watched Messiah pull away before joining Naomi inside. His mind ran rampant with thoughts of how close he had come to death. He hadn't even seen it coming. Messiah had proved himself loyal without even trying to and Noah would put him on because of it. Noah had the connect and Messiah had the muscle. It should have been the perfect street marriage. Noah had always believed in doing his dirt alone to avoid the inevitable betrayal among friends that came with the game. He only hoped that going into business with Messiah wouldn't be a decision that he would later regret.

 

6

Iman sat eating alone at the head of the rectangular table as silence filled his estate. There had been a time when he appreciated the emptiness of his home. It was his solace, his retreat, his escape from the chaotic underworld he navigated in and out of every day. Today, however, he felt alone. He had become accustomed to Bleu's laughter infiltrating his space. Her presence made the vastness seem small, giving him an intimacy that he had never known. Bleu made his house feel like a real home and her absence was driving him insane. It had only been a few days and already he wanted to drive to Malibu and bring her back. He hadn't realized it, but he needed Bleu. Yes, he had everything that money could afford him, but she had shown him something that couldn't be purchased. She had given him something priceless … her heart. There was something about loving a woman that renewed him. Iman had been cold before Bleu. The ups and downs of a young marriage had taken its toll on his outlook on love. He had separated himself from his emotions to avoid dealing with the aftermath of his failed marriage to Tan. He hadn't wanted to feel the loss of it all. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted by the painful hole in his chest, but when Bleu came along and began fill the void in his life he softened. He began to live again. Her vibrant love had forced him to open up to her. Before her he had been a shell of a man, ironclad in business and ironclad in life, but with her he was able to separate the two. She made him “feel” again, but with that came despair now that she was away. Iman wanted to be selfish and bring her home, but he knew that she was exactly where she needed to be. Away from him. It was best for her. She couldn't handle his lifestyle. Being with him would lead to her demise. After seeing someone he cared for afflicted by the very drug he peddled, he began to wonder if the money was worth it anymore. He thought about all the other “Bleus” he had served over the years. From his come-up on the street corners, hustling blocks, to moving kilos, to now running the largest movement in all of California, he was a part of the problem. He was man enough to admit it, but he was too far in to just step out. He had worked too hard to just give it all up. The game didn't work that way. There was no for-sure exit plan. Iman had come to terms with the fact that he would die as a result of his participation in this deadly game … before he met Bleu. Now everything was just so uncertain. A part of him wished she were older, wiser, more mature. She hadn't even begun to truly live yet, and while he was ready to settle down, was she?
What if I give all this up for her and this isn't what she wants?
he thought. It was that possibility that kept his feet firmly rooted in the game. While he was plotting a lifetime with Bleu, he didn't know if she was interested in forever. He trusted her, but he knew that as she grew she would change just as Tan had done. He didn't know if time would allow him and Bleu to grow together or if they would inevitably grow apart.

The ringing of the doorbell interrupted his thoughts. Iman was grateful for the distraction. When he pulled open the door, much to his surprise, Tan stood on the other side.

“You knocking now? Last time you were here you came busting in on some rah-rah-type shit,” Iman said.

He expected her to respond with her quick wit, but when she removed her sunglasses he saw nothing but raw emotion in her eyes. Her flushed face was puffy and swollen from crying, her normally perfect hair was disheveled, and her forehead was wrinkled in worry.

“What's wrong, Tan?” he asked.

“Everything,” Tan whispered.

Iman frowned. “Tan, you're shaking. What's wrong? You've got to talk, T. I can't read your mind,” he said.

“It's Papa,” she replied. “I think there is something wrong with him, Iman—” She couldn't even finish speaking before she broke down. A part of him wanted to doubt her intentions. He had asked her for a divorce.
Now she here with these tears,
Iman thought skeptically. He felt she was trying to work him. A relationship as long as the one they shared came with strings. They would always be attached and she knew that seeing her so disturbed would bother him. Iman had taken his last name back, but there was a piece of his heart that she would always have, simply because she had been down for him since day one.

“Calm down, T. What are you talking about? I just saw Sandoza a few days ago. He seemed fine.”

“He's not fine,” Tan snapped. “There is something different about him, Iman. He's absentminded. There is worry in his eyes, Iman. I've never seen Papa afraid of anything. He's distracted and evasive when I ask him what's wrong. There is something wrong, Iman. I don't know what is going on; Papa is in trouble.”

“You're jumping the gun, Tan. Sandoza is fine,” Iman replied, losing patience.

“Please check on him for me, Iman. Please. He will talk to you. He will tell you what's going on,” Tan said. “Please,
papi
.”

Iman exhaled in exasperation because he knew that Tan wouldn't have come to him unless she was genuinely concerned.

“Okay,” he said. “I'll go down there and check on him.”

“Promise me, Iman,” she insisted.

“Have I ever lied to you?” he asked.

“Yeah. You once said we would be together forever,” Tan replied. Sadness dripped from her words, crushing him. Iman had never wanted to hurt her, especially this version of her standing in front of him. Life had hardened her over the years. Tan hadn't shown him this side of herself since the day she lost the baby he had planted in her womb. He had missed this part of her. He knew that her unraveling was a product of the divorce papers he had sent her, and knowing that he had caused her so much pain was like a blow to the chest.

Sympathy filled him as he replied, “I don't know what you want from me, Tan. Do you think I want to hurt you like this?”

“You didn't even try. You just met this girl and you slid her right into your life, in the place I used to be!” Tan cried.

Tan's devastation was real. Her pain was palpable and so great that Iman felt it. She wore it all over her. She was drowning in grief from love lost, and despite all the bad they had been through, he was the only one who could comfort her. Love was crazy in that way. He was to blame for her hurt but was the only one who could heal her. It was irony at its finest. Iman knew that it had taken so much out of her to even come to his house after what had gone down between them. She hated him for moving on, but she loved him for everything that he had been to her. He could feel her soul yearning for him. The long history they shared didn't allow him to disregard her need for him. Iman knew that Tan was capable of weaving a sticky web and he felt himself being caught in it. He opened the door wider and stepped to the side, inviting her inside without saying a word. She walked in and he grabbed her arm, pulling her close. Iman knew that the lines were blurring. He shouldn't have been holding her; she shouldn't even be in the home he planned to build with Bleu. Or was it the other way around?
Did I destroy this with Tan by having Bleu in the home I bought for her?
Iman didn't know, but he couldn't deny that it felt good to hold his wife. It felt good for her to let him hold her. Tan melted into him, sobbing into his chest as he caressed the back of her neck. So many emotions pulsed through him that it was hard for him to focus. Bleu crossed his mind, but when Tan placed her lips on his all guilt was erased. Iman wasn't in the business of breaking hearts, but the way his body was reacting to Tan made it impossible for him to stop. Before he knew it he had her pinned against the wall and her thighs were wrapped around him as he slid into her.