California Connection 2 (Califronia Connection) (15 page)

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Authors: Chunichi

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Chapter 32
 
“Life on the Run”
 
Touch
L
ooking down at my watch, the clock read a little after midnight. Going down 95 South was easy and smooth for me, but coming back up 95 North was a muthafucker. At least five damn times, I almost fell asleep at the wheel. The last time I dozed off, I veered to the left and woke up in time to barely miss the deep ridges on the side of the road, which scared the hell out of me. One thing for sure, those things definitely worked. Otherwise, my ass would have come off the highway and ended up in the ditch.
I turned on some country music and rolled down every window in the car as I continued my drive. I knew once I got on Route 58 East, it would be smooth sailing from there.
My plan was to go chill at Lisa’s house for a while and lay low. I needed to get my mind right and sort some things out. I called her up to run things by her.
“Hey, boo,” she greeted me on the phone.
“You home?”
“Well, I was just about to go out with my girls downtown and barhop. What’s up?”
“I want to come through for a while.”
“That’s cool. I should be back home in a couple of hours.”
“Tell you what . . . if you stay home and wait for me in that red piece you wore last time, I’ll stop by and grab a to-go order for you at IHOP. Don’t worry, I know you like your bacon extra crispy.”
“You know that’s one of my favorite spots. Let me call my girlfriends and tell them I won’t be coming out tonight. Don’t keep me waiting too long,” she cooed.
“Give or take, I’ll be about an hour,” I assured her and hung up the phone.
Out of my left rearview mirror, I noticed this black Tahoe had been following me ever since I’d passed Emporia. At the time I was almost to Suffolk. It wasn’t unusual for a person to be behind you for a while, because Route 58 was such a long stretch, but I didn’t want to take any chances.
I pressed on the gas pedal and moved up to eighty miles per hour. The Tahoe did the same. I moved up to ninety and hauled ass. When I saw they were still keeping up, I was sure I was being followed.
Not knowing if these were some of Diablo’s niggas or someone from Calico’s crew, I pulled out my gun and cocked it.
I slowed down a little, prepared to bust shots all up in that fucking truck, but to my surprise, as soon as I slowed down, sirens began to go off. I looked in the rearview to see blue and red flashing lights on the dashboard of the truck. It was the fucking police in an unmarked car!
My forehead was sweating, and my heart felt as though it was beating out of my chest, but I couldn’t lose focus. I continued to keep my eye on the Tahoe and on the road.
I moved up to ninety-five miles per hour. I wasn’t going to let those fucking pigs take me in without a fight, and throw me in a urine-infested cell. I drove like a crazed man, swerving around cars.
In no time I was in Portsmouth. I knew a few spots I could definitely dodge the fucking police in that area, especially since it was only one truck after me.
I didn’t know if this nigga thought he was “Supercop” or what, but he never called for backup. Shit like that made me think they wanted to do a nigga in. With no backup, he could kill me and then say it was in self-defense. You never could tell when it came to cops these days.
I noticed an exit ramp a short distance ahead. I hopped on the ramp, doing ninety, not letting up on speed the least little bit.
Just as I was going around the curve on the ramp, I looked up to see a fucking Honda Accord coming the wrong way. It was coming right at me. With no time to stop, I swerved to avoid hitting it.
Unfortunately, the black Tahoe behind me wasn’t so lucky. All I heard was a loud crash then I saw the Tahoe go up into the air and flip over at least four times. Then the Tahoe rolled and landed with the tires up.
Damn! That nigga gotta be good as dead.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
My next stop was IHOP and then to Lisa’s house.
Chapter 33
 
“Judgment Day”
 
Jewel
M
y stomach was in knots as I entered the courtroom and sat at the defendant’s table with my lawyer. I didn’t know if it was anxiety, or my baby doing flips in my stomach, but I surely felt sick. Minutes later, the prosecutor came and sat across from me at his table. Then came the judge.
I took a deep breath as the prosecution began.
“Your Honor, we would like to request a continuance. There’s been a tragic accident. Our key witness has been killed in the line of duty. Melissa Johnson, the lead detective on this case, had gathered an enormous amount of evidence and tapes that led to the indictments for California Jewel Diaz, AKA Jewel, Trayvon Davis, AKA Touch, and several members of the True Mafia Family, AKA TMF. Without her here to testify, the prosecution needs a little more time to develop a stronger case.”
My attorney stood up to speak. “Your Honor, the defense would like to request a bond until the next trial date.”
“Continuance granted. Bond set at one hundred thousand dollars,” the judge said then dismissed court.
Luckily I’d grabbed the money Touch and I had in the stash. Plus, I had gotten refunds on some of the deposits I’d paid for the wedding. That money, added to my little nest egg I had saved up for emergencies, was just enough for me to make bond. Hours later, I was on my way home.
I took a deep breath as I placed my key in the door and walked in my house. A part of me screamed,
Home, sweet home
, while another part of me wanted nothing to do with that house or any of the memories that came along with it. I made my way through the mess the cops left behind while searching the house, and found a comfortable spot on the couch in the living room.
I flipped on the television and heard the reporter say,
“Lead detective in big conspiracy case killed in the line of duty.”
Knowing this was my case they were referring to, I turned up the volume on the television. I watched as they showed the pictures from the scene of the crime. It was a bad accident on the exit ramp of the interstate. They showed pictures of a black Tahoe that was flat as a pancake. It looked like it had flipped over like six times. Evidently the officer was on a high-speed chase when a drunk driver came up the exit ramp and hit her head-on.
When they flashed a picture of the detective on the screen, my mouth dropped to the floor. I rubbed my eyes to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
“Melissa Johnson was in pursuit of a wanted felon by the name of Trayvon Davis, AKA Touch when . . .”
The rest of the words the reporter spoke were a blur. My brain wandered elsewhere.
Misty, nurse Misty, wedding planner Misty, my so-called best friend Misty was an undercover police!
Everything in me just wanted to burst into tears.
How could I have been so stupid? I knew better. I’d already gone through this with Sasha, and Touch had warned me from day one. But I didn’t listen.
I began to feel like all of this was my fault. I broke the rules of the game. I let that bitch come into our lives, and day by day she tore it up, leaving me facing conspiracy charges, broke, and pregnant, with my baby father on the run.
My heart suddenly ached for Touch, so I called him up.
“Hello?” he answered on the first ring.
I burst into tears. Just the sound of his voice was so comforting. “Touch.”
“What’s up, Jewel? What’s wrong, baby girl?”
“Touch, I miss you. I need you.
We
need you.”
“Jewel, I can’t even lie to you. I miss you too. I even tried calling you, but you didn’t answer my calls.”
“Touch, I was in jail. I’ve been through so much. You have put me through so much. You don’t understand how this shit has torn me apart. I went days without eating, and nights without sleeping.”
“I’m sorry, Jewel. I swear, I’m sorry. What happened? What the fuck were you doing in jail?”
“The police came here with an indictment on conspiracy charges. They had one for you too.”
“Yeah, I heard. My neighbor told me they came to my crib. What the fuck is going on? This shit is crazy.”
“Touch, you’re all over the news.”
“What the fuck?”
“Yes, you are. You were in a high-speed chase last night?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, do you know who was following you?”
“No.”
“It was Misty.”
“Misty?” Touch said in a confused tone.
“Yes, Touch. She was an undercover police officer the entire time. She set us up. I feel so responsible. I should have never let her in. You warned me time and time again. This is all my fault.” I began to cry even more.
“Nah, baby. It’s not just you. I’m just as much to blame. Now I just gotta make shit right.”
“Yes, you do. Please make things right.” I then said again, “We need you here with us.”
Touch finally caught on. “Why do you keep on saying that? Who is
we
?”
“
We
is me and your unborn child.”
“My unborn child?”
“Yes, Touch. I’m pregnant.”
Touch didn’t say anything, and for a moment, we sat on the phone in silence.
I finally spoke up. “So what do we do now?”
“We be a family. I’m on my way home.” Touch hung up the phone.
For the first time in days, I had a smile on my face.
Urban Books, LLC
1199 Straight Path
West Babylon, NY 11704
California Connection 2 copyright © 2009 Chunichi
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
ISBN: 978-1-5998-3151-0
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living, or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
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