Teri Woods - True To The Game III

“Holy shit, she’s fuckin’ nuts!” Quadir exclaimed. “Don’t do it, Gena. They’re watching you; don’t do it!”

He watched from across the street as the Philly PD pulled out surveillance cameras. Gena finished with the saleswoman, shook her hand, then pulled out of the dealership parking lot. She had just blown over three hundred thousand dollars of his money and it wasn’t even lunch time.

Several weeks later Quadir sat on the sofa silently as he pictured himself flipping over the coffee table and the stacks of medical journals lying on it.

“Dammit!” he muttered as he moved away from the table before he could actually trash it.

“What? What’s the matter with you?” Amelia calmly asked.

Quadir looked at her, not even wanting to explain. “I can’t talk about it right now.”

“Talk about what?”

“Nothing. Please, not right now, Amelia.”

He looked at her smile slowly fade. He had hurt her feelings and he knew it. Her entire mission in life was to help, to save, to be a hero. He completely understood that, but there was no way in the world she could help him. No one could.

“Why don’t you sit down, Quadir? Just take it easy and get your thoughts together.”

“Gena is seeing someone,” he said.

“Gena? Your Gena? No way,” said Amelia surprised at his accusation.

“Not only is she seeing someone else, she’s seeing the guy that tried to kill me. His name is Jerrell Jackson.”

“Oh, my god, Quadir, are you sure? That doesn’t make sense. Does she know he tried to kill you?”

“I don’t know what she knows, but even still, the streets is always talking and everybody knows that Jerrell was behind my murder. Everybody. What the fuck is wrong with her?”

That’s when Quadir’s vision came to life. Amelia sat calmly as her coffee table was flipped over and knocked to the floor, while her medical journals landed all over her living room.

“Are you done? Because tearing my things up isn’t going to fix the problem, and it certainly won’t help,” said Amelia, turning over her coffee table and positioning it perfectly back in place.

“Yo, don’t you hear me? This bitch is sleeping with the motherfucker who tried to kill me. And that’s only the half of it. Gena found my money, so she’s got it, all of it, and I can’t figure out how to get it back. I can’t even figure out where she’s got it at.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know Jerrell shot you. And obviously she has your money because it was made available to her to get,” Amelia said as she gathered her journals off the floor and began stacking them back neatly on the coffee table.

“She might not know who he is, but trust me, he knows who she is and if he thinks for one minute that she’s got my money, he’ll kill her for it. I know him; I know how he thinks. Every nigga I know and trusted would bring me harm if they could get their hands on that kind of money. I never let anyone know about the money I had saved. No one knew.”

“Quadir, it’s just money.”

“You always say that, Amelia, just because you come from a well-to-do family, but twenty million ain’t nothing to sneeze at.”

“Twenty million? You got twenty million?”

“Do I? Well, I did. Now Gena has twenty million, or better yet, my archenemy Jerrell Jackson has twenty million.”

“Oh, Quadir, twenty million?”

“Well, technically, a little over seventeen million, Amelia. And she’s spending it, like water running out of a faucet.”

“Well, what are you going to do? Quadir, twenty million is a lot of money.”

“Amelia, please, you’re making my head hurt,” said Quadir, scratching his head trying to figure out his next move.

“What makes you think that if you can’t figure out where the money is, Jerrell will? I’m sure Gena’s not that gullible. I’m sure she’s smart enough to hide the money in a safe place.”

“Amelia, Jerrell is the grimiest dirtbag I know. If he thinks Gena has something, he’ll torture her to death in order to take it. This shit is crazy. It’s getting more and more complicated as time goes by. Now, I have to babysit this nigga.”

“Listen, I have money. I can make you a loan; I can help you get a new start out here, if that’s what you want. I mean I don’t have twenty million dollars and I know that’s a lot of money, but Quadir, it’s not worth your life. It’s not worth prison. You know what I’m saying?” asked Amelia, hoping he was smarter than she thought.

“Amelia, a loan? Are you nuts? We’re talking my twenty million, Amelia, my twenty million dollars, and I will get my money back. I have to get it back!”

“No, we’re talking about Gena’s twenty million and we’re talking about you risking your life!” she shouted, hoping to penetrate his brain with common sense.

Quadir just looked at her blankly, not wanting to hear her logic. “That’s my twenty million. Mine. I busted my ass for that; I damn near lost my life for that. I want my money. I want it back!”

“Well, what do you want me to do to help? What about hiring a private investigator to help track the money down?”

“No, that would just be one more nose up in the mix. Shit, he’d probably find out where the money is and take it himself.”

“Quadir!”

“What? I would,” he said, eyes wide.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah, what?” he asked, stopping his pacing for a split second to hear her out.

“Are you mad at Gena for having your money or are you mad at her for being with Jerrell?”

Quadir thought about her question and honestly didn’t know the answer. His pride was hurt, of course. Any man’s pride would be. That was just the tip of the iceberg. The truth was his archenemy had his girl and access to his dough. Nothing could be worse than that.

“Right now, I just want my money back,” he said, broken-hearted.

“She thinks you’re dead, you know,” said Amelia, trying to reason with him.

“I know, but he’s the enemy.”

“She probably has no idea who she’s dealing with.”

Quadir just shook his head. The situation was way out of control. Why didn’t I stop her at the apartment? Why didn’t I stop her then, before she had a chance to get into the car? What was I thinking?

“Damn, I want my money.”

Amelia said nothing; she just let him pace around, scratching his head, hoping he’d figure out something without harming himself or, worse, her medical career. Of course he knew that to do something foolish would just be plain stupid. He had everything going for him: a new life, a fresh start, and twenty million dollars somewhere out there. And he would figure out where. He had come too far not to. He would have his money. He might not have Gena, but he’d get that money back, one way or the other. What are you doing, Gena? Of all the dudes out here, why him? Gena had committed the perfect betrayal. If Quadir didn’t know any better, he’d swear she was in cahoots with Jerrell. No, she loved me, didn’t she?

“Are you okay?” Amelia asked, lightly touching Quadir’s shoulder.

“No, I’m not. I’m really not.”

“Seriously, let me hire someone to help you get your money back.”

“Not yet; not right now. She already has Philly PD on her, and if you hire a PI then it’ll look like a damn caravan going down the street. I just need to change up my tactics and I need to switch cars too.”

“You can use the Jeep, if you want,” said Amelia, hoping to be helpful. “Just be careful.”

“I will; don’t worry.”

“Quadir, don’t you worry. She’ll be back.”

Quadir thought for a moment, and the truth was that after he saw Gena and Jerrell together, he didn’t know if he wanted her back.