The Prada Plan 2: Leah's Story (12 page)

“Bitch, your kid is dead!”

YaYa kept replaying the words in her head. She had received the anonymous call as soon as she walked in her door. The voice was disguised, and before she even got the chance to beg on Skylar’s behalf, she heard the dial tone. The drop had gone awry in the worst way. In the end, YaYa had no money, no Skylar, and had left Indie owing a debt to his connect with no way to repay it. Their entire plan had gone to shit, and she felt it in her bones that Skylar had paid the ultimate price.

Somebody was playing mind games with her, and the cruel joke was slowly tormenting her. There was no hope left to be had. Skylar was gone forever. The feeling of loss that she had was immeasurable. She felt like she was suffocating. The greatest joy she had ever felt had resulted in the greatest pain. Skylar had been her dearest love, but also her darkest hour.

Everyone was silent. The only sound that could be heard were YaYa’s wrenching sobs as they waited for the phone to ring. Indie was the only person that didn’t know, and YaYa had to be the one to tell him that their daughter was no more.

The phone rang loudly, cutting through the overwhelming sadness in the room. YaYa held the cordless phone in her hand, but as the tears fell from her cheeks, she couldn’t bring herself to answer it. She just let it ring as she shook her head.

“I can’t,” she whispered as she lowered her head and closed her eyes in agony. She knew how damaging the news would be for Indie. It was a blow that she wasn’t ready to deliver. She knew him, and the fact that he couldn’t do anything but sit behind a jail cell would crush him.

“Somebody has to answer the phone for him, YaYa. His mind is gon’ spin like crazy if you don’t. Don’t let his imagination fill in the blanks. It’ll just drive him crazy,” Chase said.

The phone began to ring again, and YaYa held it out for Chase. “You tell him, because I can’t.”

Chase looked around the room at Trina and the girls, then toward Khi-P. Nobody else was willing to do it. The task at hand was too hard, but Chase felt as if he owed Indie. He couldn’t just ignore the call. He answered the phone.

The operator’s voice announced, “You have a prepaid debit call from—”

Before Indie could even say his name, Chase accepted the call.

“YaYa, tell me my daughter is safe,” he said.

“It’s me. Chase.”

“Chase?” Indie stated. His heart sank into his stomach when he registered the tone of his li’l man’s voice. He already knew what to expect.

“The drop…” Chase stopped to clear his throat of the emotion that threatened to spill out. “It went bad. We didn’t get her back.”

Indie gripped the phone tightly and couldn’t stop the sob that was building in his throat. He wanted to break down, but knew that the other inmates were watching him. He had to remain tough, to keep his gangster intact. If not, the days he spent awaiting trial would be hellacious. Niggas would think he was soft and try him, so Indie gathered himself and restored his composure before responding.

“Where is YaYa?” he asked. “Let me speak to her.”

Chase knew that the moment of silence Indie took meant that he was trying to hold it together. “I’ma put her on the jack, but you keep your head up in there, big homie. I love you, baby. Ring me if you need anything,” Chase stated.

He turned to YaYa and held out the phone. She exhaled and took it before she left the room to get some privacy.

“Indie,” she whispered as she sniffled and wiped her tears. “Indie, she’s gone, baby. They took her away from me, Indie. What am I going to do without her?”

“I’m so sorry, ma. I let you down. I was supposed to make this right. I should have never asked you to move down here with me if I couldn’t take care of you,” Indie said in a low tone.

“I feel like I’m dying, Indie. I really do. Thinking about what they might have done to her…” YaYa was so broken up that she couldn’t even finish her sentence.

“Don’t think about that, ma. You just think about the good times. Think about how much you loved her. This isn’t your fault, Disaya. I want you to be strong. Skylar wouldn’t want you to hurt. You have to send our baby girl off. She deserves to be with the angels. She was too good for this world,” he said. He was trying to say all of the right things, but he knew that no words could undo this tragedy. It hurt worse than the bullets he had taken in the chest.

“Okay, I will. I wish you were here, Indie. It’s too hard doing this without you,” she replied.

“I know, ma, and I’m so sorry,” Indie said. Indie was apologizing for all of his shortcomings as a man, as a father, as a partner, and as a friend.

His time for conversing came to a close and he reluctantly told YaYa good-bye. As soon as he hung up the phone, his rage overtook him. He slammed the pay phone repeatedly on its base.

“Fuck!” he shouted as he finally tossed it and then stormed back to his cell block. Suddenly, the murder charge he was facing was pushed to the back of his mind. That night, he grieved the loss of his child. He knew that from that moment forward, he would have to keep those close to him safe.

His thoughts inadvertently drifted to Leah and the child she was carrying for him. He had put her on the back burner when YaYa had come to town, but now more than ever he felt the need to be close to her. She was about to become the mother of his seed, and although he would never put her over YaYa, he still felt the need to take care of her. The loss of Skylar made him want to be better for his other child. He vowed to be a better father on Skylar’s behalf. What he didn’t know was that Leah was the one behind it all, and by dealing with her he was helping to destroy YaYa. He had reignited the one-sided feud that had been going on for years, and the only thing that could possibly end it was death.

YaYa planned the most beautiful memorial service that money could buy. Indie made sure that every expense was covered. He had a lot of connections and had looked out for a lot of people when he was free, so money for the funeral was not an option. She filled her days with choosing flower arrangements and framing poster-sized baby pictures of Skylar for the event.

She never wanted to bury her child, and she couldn’t understand how God could take such an innocent life.
If this is what he had planned for Sky, what is in store for me?

Khi-P and Chase became her personal escorts. Whatever she needed was always a phone call away. Her days were filled with lonely thoughts. Eyes covered with diva shades, she felt detached from the world. She was on auto pilot, walking through life in a fog. To avoid feeling devastated, she turned off her emotions so that she didn’t feel anything at all. She was tired. Her expectations were low. Life had taught her a valuable lesson—if she didn’t expect anything at all, then she could never be disappointed.

She had been stripped of everyone that she had ever loved, and she was defeated. The closer she got to saying good-bye, the more she withdrew. Going through an entire day was starting to become impossible for Disaya, and soon she stopped trying altogether. Days before Sky’s memorial, her heart had turned completely cold. The only thing that warmed her up was the bottle of Patrón that sat near her bedside. Drowning her sorrows in the tequila felt so good. Her liquid high was her only relief. It gave her the courage to even consider reuniting with her daughter.

With the alcohol as her only sustenance, she began to feel sick. Vomit tickled the back of her throat, and she was so weak that she let it erupt on the side of her bed.

“Aghhhh!” she hurled as she staggered to her feet.

She smelled like death as liquor and vomit covered her. The full-length mirror revealed her true self. The bags under her eyes gave away her exhaustion. Disgusted with the reflection she saw, YaYa threw the bottle of Patrón at the mirror, shattering both. Fed up and ready to give in, she stormed into her closet to retrieve the nickel-plated pistol that Indie hid inside.

It would be so easy to just end all of this,
she thought.

A picture of Skylar sat on her dresser and pulled her near almost magnetically. She picked it up and held it in one hand as she gripped the gun in the other.

I miss you, baby doll. Mama’s coming,
she thought.

She took the picture with her to her bed and lay down. She held the picture against her heart and put the gun to her head, then closed her eyes. Before she could even find the strength to pull the trigger, the liquor-induced fog took her away to her dreams, the only place where Skylar lived.

DING! DING!

Disaya lay deathly still as her doorbell went off, sending an earth-shattering headache vibrating through her brain. She couldn’t move. A broken heart paralyzed her as she stared at the picture of her baby girl that sat on the nightstand beside the bed. Although her hand gripped Indie’s 9 mm pistol, she didn’t have enough energy to lift it to her head and end the misery.

She had been in that same position for days and had already held her own personal vigil for Skylar. Night after night, she had prayed for her daughter’s soul, but she felt as if God had rejected her. He had taken away the one good thing she had ever done. Her ashen face was swollen with grief as she lay unflinching, her red eyes burning with sorrow. There was no way to fill the void that had come plunging into her life. She was completely hollow, and it hurt more than anything she had ever experienced before. It was an incomparable pain, a dull ache that would last a lifetime.

Her daughter was dead. There would be no home-coming for baby Sky, no celebration of birthdays or good night kisses. She was lost forever to a cruel world. Baby Skylar had disappeared from her life almost as if she had never existed to begin with, and that thought alone was enough to bring her to her knees.

She heard the footsteps ascend the hardwood staircase, but still she didn’t move. Today was not a day that she was looking forward to. She could not bring herself to embrace Skylar’s departure. She refused to.

“YaYa?” Trina called out as she peeked into the darkened room. The smell of Disaya’s body odor immediately hit her, and tears came to her eyes when she saw the state that Disaya was in. She was usually so composed. Trina had never seen YaYa less than perfect. From her hair and nails to the designer threads that always graced her Coke-bottle figure, YaYa was always put together with precision. Looking at her defeated demeanor, it appeared as if she had come apart at the seams. Her world had been devastated, and her weakness was on display for all to see.

“YaYa, it’s me, Trina,” she said gently. When she received no response, she turned around toward Miesha and Sydney to stop them from following her inside the room. “Can y’all wait downstairs? Everybody don’t need to see her like this.”

They nodded in understanding and retreated to the living room as Trina walked into the bedroom. A wine bottle was shattered in pieces, and the sticky liquid had left a red stain running down the white walls. The room was a mess.

Trina stepped over broken glass and crumpled piles of clothes. She knelt beside YaYa’s bedside to look her in the eyes and gasped at what she saw. The glamorous woman that she looked up to had disappeared. Only a fragment of her former self survived, and as Trina stared into her empty gaze, sympathy filled her.

“YaYa, you have to get up. Sky’s memorial is today,” she said.

YaYa didn’t respond. She didn’t even lift her eyes in acknowledgment. A black fog smothered her as death loomed over her.

“I know you’re hurting, YaYa, but you want to be there to say your good-byes,” Trina said.

CLICK! CLACK!

Trina heard the sound of the hammer of a gun being pulled back and her eyes widened as she realized YaYa was gripping a pistol.

“I can’t…I can’t tell my daughter good-bye. This can’t be real…. She was supposed to bury me. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” YaYa said, her voice a hoarse whisper and her face a river of regret as tears fell freely. She gripped the trigger so tightly that Trina feared it might go off.

“It hurts,” YaYa whispered as she put the gun to her head.

“Don’t do this, YaYa. You have too many people who still love you. Think about what this would do to Indie. You still have him,” Trina said as she tried desperately to convince YaYa to live.

“Indie isn’t here,” YaYa shot back. “He’s never around when I need him. Where is he?” she cried. She knew that Indie’s arrest was not his fault, but she couldn’t help but to point fingers. It seemed as if she was always facing the unbeatable alone. He was never by her side, and this time she felt completely helpless. She wanted to be strong, but she had nothing left inside. There was no confidence, no determination, no strength left in reserve. She was on E. Drained of everything but sorrow, she just wanted all the pain to end.

“You know he wants to be here with you right now. He loves you. Give me the gun, YaYa. Please. I don’t want to be the one to tell Indie that he has to bury the woman he loves right next to his daughter,” Trina pleaded.

Her words were like a shot of hard liquor for YaYa, and she became sick to her stomach. An emotional hangover caused her head to pound as she closed her bloodshot eyes in agony.

Trina reached for the gun and wrapped her hand around YaYa’s. She removed each finger, one by one, until she had removed it completely from YaYa’s grasp. As if she had been holding her breath in fear, Trina sighed deeply in relief.

“I don’t even have a body to bury today. This just doesn’t feel right. I can’t do this. What if she’s still out there, waiting on me to come and save her?” YaYa asked.

“She’s gone, and it’s time for you to let her go,” Trina said soothingly. She leaned over and helped YaYa out of bed. She was so weak that Trina had to wrap YaYa’s arm around her shoulders just to keep her on her feet.

“I got you,” Trina assured. “You still have family, YaYa, and we are going to help you get through this.”

Makeup flawless and dressed in an all-black Marc Jacobs pencil skirt set, YaYa stepped out of the limo like old money. Her fragile state was hidden behind the sheer silk scarf and oversized Chanel sunglasses that covered her. Trina, Miesha, and Sydney had put her together as if she were a Barbie doll. From her hair to the Prada heels on her feet, they had chosen everything as YaYa sat in a zombie-like state.

Her life had become so surreal, and all eyes were on her as she silently urged her shaky limbs to keep her upright. She was amongst a community of strangers. Besides Indie’s immediate crew, there wasn’t a familiar face in sight.

As the ladies approached Chase and Khi-P, they embraced each other with open arms, each of them giving their condolences to YaYa.

“Who are all of these people?” she managed to find her voice to ask.

“This is Houston, baby girl. This is Indie’s city. They’re just coming out to show their respect,” Khi-P answered as he held out his hand for her to walk in front of him. “Indie’s mother is waiting inside for you.”

YaYa couldn’t believe how large of an empire Indie had built in Houston. Although she didn’t know the masses of people who had come out on baby Sky’s behalf, she appreciated the love, and at that moment, she embraced Houston as home.

Beautiful on the outside but hollow on the inside, YaYa was an empty shell. She was simply going through the motions. Elaine’s maternal presence eased her weary soul a bit as she made her way inside. YaYa couldn’t help but think how lucky Indie was to have a mother like her. Once a lady of the night, Elaine had seen her share of tragedies, but nothing had ever felt like this. To have to bury her own grandbaby’s memory was a daunting task that was proving to be too difficult for everyone in attendance.

When the two women saw one another, they embraced tightly. Elaine was so motherly and supportive as YaYa cried heavily on her shoulder, releasing it all through her muffled cries.

“Thank you for being here,” YaYa whispered.

“Where else would I be?” Elaine asked. “I loved that baby, and I love you too. Someone should have called me sooner. I—” She stopped speaking to wipe away a few stray tears as she willed herself to stay strong. She was well aware that YaYa needed a rock to lean on, and breaking down wouldn’t do either of them any good.

She regained her composure and cleared her throat as she continued, “Bill is meeting with Indie’s lawyers to find out what we can do to get him out of there.”

Overwhelmed by the family support, YaYa hugged Elaine with all of her might as she swayed from side to side. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Leah sat in the back of the church practically hysterical as she observed Skylar’s funeral proceedings. She had to admit that YaYa had gone all out to send Skylar home. Leah hid her identity behind dark shades and a large black Dior hat. She knew that it was risky, but she had to see firsthand how she had affected YaYa.

Weakened by the infection that was destroying her womb, she almost didn’t make it to the services, but nothing could stop her from having her moment of victory. She knew that by not being treated after her miscarriage, she was doing harm to herself, but none of it mattered to her. In a way, she enjoyed the pain, indulging in it.

Leah was beyond bitter. Her obsession with Disaya and her fixation on revenge was psychotic. Her mental was broken, and not even her life mattered. She had no regard for humanity or morality, and as she looked on eagerly, she gripped the church pew in front of her to keep her from keeling over in excruciating pain.

Hiding the smile that graced her face was hard. Amongst a sea of somber faces, her delight would have given her away, so she contained it to avoid suspicion. The crying had stopped momentarily, but there was not a doubt in her mind that it would return.

Disaya was at her breaking point. She held Elaine’s hand while listening to the pastor deliver a sermon on pure souls. A huge picture of Skylar was on display at the front of the church, and there was no doubt in YaYa’s mind that her daughter was one of the souls that the lesson was referring to. This was her daughter’s homegoing ceremony, but something inside of YaYa couldn’t let go. She felt her daughter in her spirit and sobs wrecked her as she thought of how she had failed as a mother.

I let her down. It was my job to protect her,
she thought solemnly.

She tuned the pastor out as her body went completely numb. She had never lost someone so dear to her. The last funeral she had attended had been her mother’s, and the feeling of loss was just as great now as it had been back then.

As the service came to an end, YaYa rose from her seat. Elaine looped her arm through YaYa’s as they made their exit from the church.

As soon as she stepped foot outside, she saw Indie and his father emerging from the back of an unmarked police car. She froze mid-step in disbelief as she watched him dust himself off. He was still dressed in the city-issued jail suit, but to YaYa, he looked as if he had just stepped off of the cover of
GQ
. Although he was in his most submissive state, handcuffed and labeled state property, he still emanated power. Everything about him gave off the aura of authority.

She ran to him at full speed, and despite the protests of his police escorts, she jumped into his arms.

“Oh my God! Indie! I’m so sorry. I should have listened to you. I should have never gotten the police involved,” she said as she poured out her every regret.

“Shh. It’s okay, ma. I know you were just doing what you felt was right. I don’t blame you for anything,” Indie replied.

“I didn’t think you would be able to come. How did you get them to let you out?” she asked hysterically.

“Those bars can’t hold me, ma. I wouldn’t have missed this for anyone. I had to be here for her.” He paused as he lifted his handcuffed hands to grace her cheek. “For you.” Feeling as though his movements were restricted, he turned to his police escort and leaned into his ear. “My man, there is a lot of money to be made by removing these handcuffs.”

Although tempted, the officer appeared unsure.

“I’m not going to run. I just want to hold my wife,” Indie stated sincerely.

The officer nodded and removed the handcuffs, allowing Indie to wrap his arms around YaYa, lifting her from her feet. “I love you, ma. I love you more than life. Walk with me inside. I need to talk to you about something important.”

As they walked past his friends and family, he embraced his mother and exchanged hugs with his crew before following Disaya inside. The church’s sanctuary had cleared out, leaving them alone, but the heavy sadness still lingered in the air.

“My baby girl,” Indie whispered as he looked up at the poster-sized picture. “How did this happen, ma? All I ever wanted to do was love you and take care of my family.”

“I can’t do this, Indie. It feels like I’m dying inside,” Disaya admitted, wrapping her arms around herself as she shook her head in defeat.

“I need you to be strong, YaYa. This is only the beginning of the storm. I might be going away for a little while, and I need to know that you are okay out here,” Indie said as he lifted her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

“I just don’t know if I can get through this by myself, Indie. I can’t lose you too, not after everything we’ve been through,” YaYa replied. “You just came back into my life. You were just getting to know our daughter! Why us? What happened to our fairytale ending?”

“That’s not real life,” he whispered as his strong composure gave out. He closed his eyes as he tipped his forehead to hers. His bottom lip quivered with grief at the thought of his fragile family. Their most innocent member had been taken away, and now he was being forced to leave YaYa to pick up the pieces.

She reached up and kissed her man’s lips…his eyes…his cheeks…the tip of his nose. Their love had never been everlasting. All God ever gave them were fleeting moments, glimpses of happiness. The forces surrounding them were all plotting against them. When things were right between them, they were so right, but misery always found them, and it seemed as though their separation was inevitable. So, she kissed him as if it would be the last one that they shared, taking his full lips into her mouth while pouring her torn soul into him. She caressed his face, inhaled his scent, and allowed her hands to feel his broad chest as if she would never see him again.

Indie’s fingers became tangled in her long hair as tears finally fell from his eyes. Not only had he come to say good-bye to baby Sky; he had come to set Disaya free. He knew that things didn’t look good. The odds were stacked against him, and he had already put YaYa through enough pain. He loved her enough to allow her to walk away. He knew that he could never love her fully from behind prison walls. He wanted to give her all of him. She deserved one hundred percent of a man, and being enslaved to the system made him only half of one. He was a liability to her, rather than an asset.