Murderville 2: The Epidemic (29 page)

“Hey, handsome,” she said.

“What up, ma?” he replied.

Dahlia could hear the tension in his voice, and she frowned. “You okay?” She had witnessed the divide that had occurred between Liberty and Po. In fact, she reveled
in the fact that it wouldn’t be long before their relationship imploded.

She grabbed his collar and stepped close to Po flirtatiously. “You want to take a ride with me?” she asked. “I’ll make you feel better.”

Po stepped back slightly and looked back at the house to make sure no one was watching.

“Come on, Po. Liberty won’t even know you’re missing,” Dahlia urged as she walked back to her car. She opened her door and tapped her fingernails on the hood. “You coming or what?”

Po wiped his hand over his mouth, and then got into Dahlia’s car, looking for a temporary escape.

Liberty’s nostrils flared as she watched the taillights of Dahlia’s car disappear out of the estate gates.
What the fuck is she doing?
Liberty thought angrily. She cut her eyes as her chest heaved up and down.
She’s supposed to be my family!

Liberty didn’t like how close Dahlia and Po were becoming, and she hadn’t noticed Dahlia’s flirtatious ways until now.
First she claims Trixie tried to rob Po, now she’s flirting with my man like he’s hers. What the fuck is this bitch up to?
Liberty asked. She picked up her cell and dialed Po’s number, anxiously tapping her foot as it rang in her ear. To her dismay it went to voice mail. Liberty sat down on the cold, marble floor and put her face in her hands, defeated. She didn’t know what to think, but her eyes didn’t lie. Something wasn’t right with Dahlia, and if Liberty didn’t get her life together she just might lose it all.

*    *    *

“These the kind of joints you hang out at in your spare time?” Po asked as he looked around the dilapidated dive bar where Dahlia had taken him. He put his hand near his hip, so that his pistol was nearby. He didn’t like to frequent spots that he wasn’t familiar with, and Dahlia peeped his anxiety as he looked around the room. She grabbed his hand and smiled.

“Relax, Po. Our kind of enemy doesn’t frequent establishments like this. That’s why it’s the perfect place to let your hair down,” she said. She knew that the white, working-class citizens in the bar were of no threat to them. It was the most low-key spot in the city. It was anything but fancy, but it was safe and inconspicuous. She led the way to the bar and took a seat on the stool, crossing her legs as she slid her bottom onto it. “Two shots of Patrón,” she said to the bartender.

Po looked at Dahlia and smiled slightly. “Since when you hit shots? You’re a red wine type of girl.”

He had been around Dahlia long enough to know that she did everything with class and expected the best of everything.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” she replied with a laugh. “Tequila cheers everyone up.” The bartender returned with their drinks, and Dahlia lifted the small glass in the air, waiting for Po to pick up his own. Po followed suit, and the two downed the liquor.

Dahlia grimaced from the burn and Po smirked. “Lightweight,” he said with a charming smile.

“That I am not, sir,” she replied. Dahlia ordered another shot and drank it like water as Po shook his head.

“A’ight, a’ight, ma. You got it,” he said. He tried to appear normal, but the cloud that hung over his head rained sorrow all over him.

“Don’t beat yourself up, Po. Liberty’s going through a hard time right now. You two lost the baby, but just remember that everything happens for a reason. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be,” Dahlia said softly as she reached over and gave Po’s hand a supportive squeeze.

“She’s shutting me out,” Po replied as he lifted his second shot to his lips, drinking his worries away.

“Do you want me to be honest with you, Po? Because I can sit here and be a sympathetic ear, or I can put you up on game,” Dahlia said.

“Speak freely, ma.”

“Liberty never let you in. She’s only been in love once in her entire life. She’s stuck on A’shai. The only reason she even came back was because she was pregnant. Now that the miscarriage happened, I bet it won’t be long before she decides to leave again,” Dahlia said with a creased brow.

“Let me ask you something, Dahlia. Fuck is it about this A’shai nigga? He’s dead and gone, but it’s like he’s putting claim on Liberty from the grave. What did they have that was so different?” he asked.

Dahlia shrugged her shoulders and said, “History.” She waved her hand in dismissal and continued, “Don’t worry about it, Po. I’m just talking, but I’m not in it. You know better than anyone where you and Liberty stand. Don’t
mind me. As long as she ain’t putting up that shoe box money then you’re good.”

“Shoe box money?” Po questioned.

“Yeah. When a girl starts stashing a few thousand here and there in the back of her closet, she’s planning her escape,” Dahlia answered, her words running together slightly in intoxication.

Po shook his head and pointed his pinky finger in her direction as he lifted his glass to his lips. He took a long sip and replied, “That’s where you’re wrong. Liberty don’t gotta take from me. She knows if we don’t work out she’ll be taken care of. That’s already understood.”

“You sure about that?” Dahlia asked as she raised one eyebrow in a challenge.

Po’s mental wheels began to spin as he pondered his situation with Liberty.

Dahlia stood and walked over to the old-school jukebox that sat in the corner of the room.

“This work?” she shouted to the bartender.

“Pop a bill in and see,” the guy said back. Dahlia filled the machine with money and an old R&B song filled the room. She didn’t know the tune, but she danced to it anyway. She playfully danced over to Po and grabbed his hand.

“Come on, Po. Let’s have fun. Get your mind off of things,” she said with a smile.

Po shook his head and laughed, grateful for the relief that Dahlia provided. He turned his chair toward the dance floor and replied, “I don’t dance, ma, but I like to watch. Do your thing.”

Dahlia danced all night for Po as they indulged in liquor and drank the problems of yesterday away. Po appreciated Dahlia. She was always so attentive to his needs, and she vibed with his mood effortlessly. He didn’t understand why everything with Liberty was always so forced. Life wasn’t supposed to be this hard, especially when you were on top.

*    *    *

As day turned to night and night eventually transformed to dawn Liberty lay in bed furious at the thought of Po and Dahlia out together. All of a sudden she no longer trusted her own family, and she wasn’t quite sure if she trusted Po. The laughter that filled the walls of her minimansion sent chills up her spine as she listened to Dahlia and Po finally came home. She looked at the clock. It was five in the morning.
Where could they have possibly been all night?
she asked herself. Jealousy was an ugly monster when it creeped into one’s head. It started off so small, but the smallest seed of doubt could quickly grow into a tree of accusations and resentment. Liberty sat up in bed with her back against the headboard. She stared Po directly in the eyes when he came into the room.

“Where have you been?” she asked softly, her feelings hurt at the thought of Dahlia and Po together. She was sitting there sulking and mourning the loss of their baby while he was out finding comfort with her cousin.
What part of the game is this?
she thought.

“I had to clear my head, Liberty,” Po replied.

“From where I’m sitting, Po, it seems more clouded to me,” Liberty said. She turned her back to him and clicked
off the lamp that sat on the nightstand beside her bed. She had no more words to say to him for fear that she may speak out of anger.

Po was getting real tired of Liberty’s slick talk. He needed a chick that knew how to play her position already. He couldn’t keep handing out the instruction manual to Liberty on how to keep him satisfied. Some things a woman should just know and comparing him to another nigga, even a dead one, was the quickest way to run him into the arms of the next bitch.

*    *    *

Dahlia peeked outside of her room and listened as she heard voices coming from the first floor. She quietly crept down the hall and entered Po and Liberty’s bedroom. She quickly tiptoed through the plush space of the bathroom and entered the walk-in closet.
After Po finds this, Liberty’s ass will be out of here,
Dahlia thought. A conniving smile crept across her face as she opened the shoe box that she had in her hands. Inside of it was $100,000 of her own money, neatly bundled in $10k rubber banded knots. Dahlia placed the box on the shelf, then slinked out of the room. She didn’t know when Po would find it, but she knew that he would eventually check to see if Liberty had a shoe box stash, and when he found the money hidden inside of the closet, all of his faith in Liberty would dissolve. It was a small price to pay to get Liberty out of her way. The seed of deceit that Dahlia was planting would be enough to destroy any foundation that Po and Liberty had. Their bond would be broken without a doubt. If there was one thing a man
like Po despised, it was a woman who couldn’t be trusted around his money, and when it came down to it, getting money was his first love.

The tension between Liberty and Po was no longer something that occurred behind closed doors. Everyone began to watch as the couple slowly drifted apart. Too heartbroken over the loss of their child, Liberty withdrew from the world. She wanted to lean on Po, but Po was forever in the streets. She barely saw him, and when she did, he was always preoccupied with other things. Liberty’s grief was taking a backseat to Po’s operation, making her feel disposable.
Dahlia was right. Po will never be the wife-and-kids-type of man. He’s a hustler. The life is all he knows . . . all he wants,
she thought miserably. She looked up from her cup of morning tea and watched him as he sat adjacent to her.

When the doorbell rang it was a relief to Po. Facing Liberty was becoming more and more like a burden each day. He couldn’t read her, and Po was fed up with catering to her. She ran hot and cold. There was no in between. One day she was ready to be his lady, and the next she was crying crocodile tears over A’shai. No man wanted a chick with an indecisive heart. Po wanted Liberty to choose him, but it seemed as though she was unable to do it. If it took a child to make Liberty loyal, then he didn’t know if he wanted her at all. Love and loyalty should be effortless with the right person. With Liberty, the shit was just too hard. Po rose from the table.

“Are you expecting someone?” Liberty asked.

All of a sudden Dahlia walked into the kitchen. She
touched Po’s shoulder, squeezing it gently, signaling for him to sit back down. “Enjoy your meal, Po. I’ll get it,” she said. Po relaxed, and Dahlia headed to the door. “Hey, Lib.”

Liberty nodded her head but didn’t speak as a twinge of jealousy shot through her. Her nostrils flared. She didn’t like how Dahlia was all of a sudden so helpful and available to Po. She raised her eyebrows in suspicion and cleared her throat. “I don’t like her living here anymore,” she said.

Po looked up in surprise and replied, “She’s your cousin. You invited her.”

They spoke in low, tense whispers so that Dahlia would not overhear them. “Well, now I’m disinviting her,” Liberty shot back. Her light skin was flushed with red. “The bitch is too comfortable. She walks around here like this is her house.”

Po shook his head and replied, “You’re tripping, ma. I know you’re emotional from the miscarriage, but you need to snap out of it. You’re taking it out on everybody. Dahlia hasn’t done anything to you, and I need her here for business.”

“Why are you defending her? You’re supposed to be on my side,” Liberty hissed.

“I’m not defending anybody. I’m just stating facts. I need her here. End of discussion,” Po said. As soon as he finished his sentence Dahlia entered the room with Rocko behind her.

“Look who I found,” she said cheerfully.

Po and Liberty instantly ended their conversation, and Liberty turned her head to hide her watery eyes.

Po stood. “You ready, fam?” he asked.

Rocko nodded.

“Let me just get dressed real quick. Sit down and have some breakfast. Dahlia cooked,” Po said.

“I’ll fix him a plate,” Dahlia offered.

Liberty abruptly stood up. “I’ll fix him a plate,” she said, her voice coming out more harshly than she intended. Dahlia paused and looked at Liberty innocently, then raised her hands in defense.

“Be my guest, Lib,” Dahlia said. “I have to get dressed anyway. I’ve got some things to take care of today.”

Rocko and Po looked at Liberty in shock. She wasn’t acting like herself.

“I’m good, fam. Thanks for the offer. I’m going to wait inside the car,” Rocko said.

When everybody had left the room, Po stared at Liberty. “Where is your head at, Liberty? You’re suddenly so worried about Dahlia. I don’t want her. You’re competing with yourself, but you’ve got me competing with a ghost. I’ve got no wins with that,” Po said.

Liberty was speechless as she stood in front of him. She wasn’t oblivious to the fact that she was falling apart at the seams. There just wasn’t anything that she could do to shake the funk that she was in. Feeling sorry for herself and reminiscing on A’shai seemed to be all that she could do. She wanted Po to be more like A’shai. To covet her the way that he did, to anticipate her needs, her wants, the way that A’shai had done. She was making the cardinal mistake of comparing the two men when they couldn’t be more
different. They loved her differently, and she didn’t realize that she was taking Po’s love for granted.

Po wasn’t feeling being a second choice, and if things didn’t change soon his interest would wane. He hopped into the shower and washed his frustrations away. It had been too long since Liberty had pleased him. Sexually, mentally, and even emotionally she didn’t tend to her man, and Po was beginning to feel the effects of it. A woman who had once mesmerized him was now making him miserable. Po wasn’t sloppy. He didn’t like his life being in disarray. His home wasn’t in order, which made it hard for him to focus on business, and that was a problem. He was tense, his entire body needed attention, and his hard dick stuck straight out. He was sexually deprived and had so much frustration built up that he felt like he would explode. He wrapped his hand around his pole and began to stroke himself as the steam from the hot shower water massaged his broad shoulders. His head fell back as he slowly masturbated. Then Po heard the bathroom door open.