Read She Fell For A Boss: An Urban Love Tale Online
Authors: K.C. Mills
She Fell For A Boss
An Urban Love Tale
A Novel By:
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Published by Leo Sullivan Presents
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Unauthorized reproduction, in any manner, is prohibited.
Three Years Prior…
“Get out the car, get out the got damn car,” Detective Torres yelled as he held his gun on Miego while his partner pointed his gun at Kia.
Miego looked at Kia as his jaw tightened and his temple twitched. To say he was pissed couldn't even begin to explain what he was feeling at that moment.
“Don't say shit, no matter what they ask you, don't say shit. They can't put any of this on you, so don't say a got damn thing. No matter what deals or promises they offer. Not a muthafucking word, Kia. Do you hear me?”
Her eyes were wide and her hands shook as she nodded aggressively, agreeing to what Miego was telling her. He knew she was afraid, but at this point, he didn't care. All he needed was for her to keep her damn mouth shut so that she wouldn't make the situation worse. In his line of work, he dealt the cops all the time. Hell, he had even gone to jail enough to know what to expect, but the amount of weight he was carrying had him nervous as fuck. If they wanted to, they could lock him down for a long ass time. He knew all they wanted was the money and the drugs, so it was likely they both would be on their way home as soon as the cops shook him down. But for now, he needed her to let him handle the situation.
From the way they rolled up on him, Miego could feel that something wasn't right. He was a dope boy, well known in fact, and it was nothing for 5-0 to cash in and collect payment to allow him to handle business in his neighborhood. But tonight, shit just didn't sit right. The stop was too damn random and it didn't add up. He never carried the amount of product with him that he was currently holding, and never that much money. Tonight, he had made the mistake of keeping it with him since he had just planned on a quick dinner with Kia. Afterward, he was going to his spot to deliver what he had to his people so they could get it on the streets. Now, here he was surrounded by two unmarked cars and two loud mouth detectives with guns pointed at his window, yelling for him to get out of his car.
With one last warning to Kia, he raised his hands and waited for the officer to open the door. “Don't say a got damn thing, I mean it.”
Torres chuckled after Miego stepped out of his vehicle. He forced his gun against the side of Miego's head and then his body against the hood of his car. Within seconds, he had handcuffs on him while his partner duplicated the action with Kia. Thankfully, she kept quiet like Miego asked, which was about the only thing he was grateful for. He had murder on his mind as he memorized every detail about Torres.
“Aye, Torres, jackpot. We hit the fucking jackpot,” his partner yelled from the rear of Miego's car as he held up two duffle bags. One had thirty keys in it, the other held a little over half a mil in cash.
“Well, well. Looks like the king is about to find him a new throne. In an eight by ten cement cell, behind bars. No actual throne there, but I’m sure you’ll make do.” With a smug grin, Torres pointed to the bags that his partner was holding up. “I’d say that’s going to take the boss off the streets for a while, but don't worry, after we get our cut, your lawyer might be able to work you a sweet deal. I mean, you’re still going to jail, though.”
Miego gritted his teeth, knowing that they were about to take his shit and also take him in with just enough to make sure he did time.
“Ah, come on, Boss, you’re not going to say thank you? We're helping you out here.” Torres forcefully lifted Miego from the hood of his car and shoved him toward his unmarked car.
It took everything in Miego to stay calm, but he did say one thing, and one thing only. “Your days are numbered.”
A cocky grin spread across his face just as Torres laughed and shoved him into the backseat of his car, shut the door, and then walked over to his partner, who had placed Kia in his car. Miego figured it was so they could get her alone in order to make her talk. He prayed that she kept her damn mouth shut. He didn't need her making things worse.
Fuming, he watched as Torres and his partner had a few words, and then Torres made his way back to his car and climbed in the front seat. After he adjusted his rearview mirror, Torres caught Miego’s eye and laughed.
“You ought to be more careful about who you trust. Maybe next time you'll know better.”
Miego’s jaw tightened again as he clenched his fist. He anticipated the day that he would be able to put a bullet in Torres. It would happen, the problem was he didn't know when. Miego was certain of one thing; Torres was going to regret the day he ever met Miego Grant, and that was a promise.
ye, Miego, you got a dollar? I need a dollar,” Rog stuttered, barely able to get the words out as he rubbed his bony hands together.
Miego looked over his shoulder at the dusty and aged face of the old man who was standing near him, pissed that he was even being addressed.
“Nigga, I ain't got shit but my freedom, and I barely even have that. Get the fuck out my face.”
Never mind the fact that he had damn near five grand in his pocket, but he didn't actually lie because it was all in hundred dollar bills. Miego waved his hand in the air out of frustration, signaling for the fiend to leave him alone.
Once again, his tattoo covered hands were crossed, resting at his waistline as he looked down at them. His set was evident by the markings he used to wear with pride. Now, they were just reminders of all the bad decisions he had made over the years. Decisions that he couldn't reverse or take back, which caused a mild feeling of regret. But fuck it, they had made him who he was.
Miego had been gang affiliated since age five, served his first block at eight, and claimed his first body by age fourteen. Not to mention his first bid by age seventeen for possession and assault with a deadly weapon.
Now, at twenty-four, he had just come home from a three year bid. Not the first of time served for him, but hopefully his last. His life had been gangs, drugs, and murder. What the hell was he supposed to do with that besides be pissed?
This last time, he got knocked because he trusted somebody that he shouldn't have. He didn't really have proof, but the night he got stopped with thirty keys and a little less than a mill in cash was so damn random that shit just didn't add up.
The cop who pulled him over and searched his shit knew exactly what he was looking for. Miego got pissed all over again as the thought crossed his mind. He knew it was just a matter of time before he caught up with the cop who took him down, which would hopefully lead him to the person who snitched on him.
Miego looked up just as Rog approached him again, this time reaching out like he was about to touch him, which was a definite mistake.
“The fuck is your problem? I said I don't have shit. Get the fuck on.”
He pulled his body from the brick wall he was leaning against and took one aggressive step toward his old client, damn near closing the space between them with that one step.
Knowing Miego, or the person he used to be, Rog cowered back and threw his hands up. “Yo, chill, Miego. We’re good, bruh.” Rog shook his head and backed away, fearing for his safety.
Not only had he seen the murderer emerge from Miego before, but he had also experienced it, which ended with a fractured jaw because Rog was too high to realize that he was playing with fire.
The vibration of his phone pulled Miego’s attention away from Rog. He took advantage of the opportunity and scurried away, grateful that he was able to escape Miego's wrath without incident.
“What up, Yanna?”
“Where are you?”
“Nowhere, what you need?”
“I don’t need anything, but Ma is looking for you.”
“For what?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
His sister laughed sarcastically. “Like she needs a reason. You’ve been gone all day, just come home and show your face long enough to ease her mind.”
“Aight, chill, I’ll be up there in a minute.”
“Miego, come now. You know how she gets when you go missing.”
“Chill, Yanna, damn. I said I’ll be there.”
He ended the call with his sister and let his phone slide back into his pocket. He looked down the block and then let out an irritated sigh before he started moving toward the apartment that he shared with his mother, sister, and brother. Not by choice, but being fresh out the pen, Miego hadn’t quite decided what his next move should be. Any other time, he wouldn't have given it a second thought and he would have just picked up right where he left off, but the fact that someone snitching on him was the reason he landed in jail in the first place had him second guessing his moves. Miego still didn't know who that was, and until he found out, he was trying to stay under the radar. But he was a grown ass man and needed his own space. He loved his family, but being cooped up with them 24/7 had gotten real old real fast, and that had to change.
He was living off the money he had put away before he got locked up three years ago. Thanks to his sister, he still had access to a nice little stash because she had gotten to his house and cleaned out his safe before the cops had showed up and took everything else.
She used some of it occasionally to help their mother get by while Miego was locked up and not able to take care of them, but it was her brother’s money, so she made sure he had something to come home to. Since he had previously been in what was considered a cash only business before being locked up, he couldn't just jump out there. His moves had to be calculated and timed just right to avoid drawing attention to himself, but he was definitely getting the fuck out of his mother's apartment sooner than later.
It only took him a few minutes to enter his mother's building and make his way to her tiny third-floor apartment. They had lived there for as far back as he could remember, but Ginette was funny like that. Even when Miego was bringing in more cash than anyone could really account for, she still refused to move. She said it wasn't worth the headache to always have people watching and talking. She refused to be somewhere she wasn't wanted.
“Hey, Ma, you looking for me?”
“Just wondering where you were is all.” His mother looked Miego in his eyes after he kissed her on the cheek and positioned himself on the arm of the floral printed armchair that she sat in.
“Your brother has a game tonight. You going?”
“I already told you I was going, Ginette,” Miego said playfully, calling his mother by her name, which she ignored.
Ginette was more focused on keeping tabs on her oldest son. She couldn't stomach the stress of him being locked up again.
“Good, you don’t need to be sitting around here doing nothing. You need to get out, do something with yourself, baby.”
Miego chuckled. Something like what, go serve the block that got him locked up in the first place? That was basically all he knew.
“I hear you, Ma. Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out.” There was no point in him telling her his real plans, which were to hook up with some old connections and find a way to make a lot of money real fast so he could find something legitimate to do.
“I know you will, baby. Trust me, I know you will.” Ginette patted her son’s arm and offered up a reassuring smile.
“I’m heading out for a few, but I’ll be back in time for Tron’s game. You need anything?”
“Where you going, Miego?” Ginette looked up at her son, knowing that him leaving meant the potential to get caught up in something. She stood and placed her hands on her hips.
“Not far, I’m about to go check Kia out for a minute.”
Ginette frowned at her son when he mentioned Kia. He laughed a little under his breath as his mother turned and headed toward her bedroom. The idea of him being anywhere near Kia, since she was with him the night he got knocked, pissed her off.
“You need to stop messing with that trifling ass hoe. She ain't shit, and she damn sure ain't no good for you. She spent all your money while you were locked up, and then started fucking around with all your people.” Yanna rolled her eyes from where she was sitting on the sofa.
“Chill, Yanna, mind your damn business.”
Miego cut his eyes at his sister and her expression was serious as fuck, which made him laugh. He wasn’t about to argue with her about Kia, so he just let it go. He knew Kia wasn't about anything, and aside from sex, she didn't have shit to offer him.
“You know she ain't shit, but it’s cool, though. When she gets your ass caught up, don’t say a damn thing, i’ight.”
Yanna didn’t even bother to look in his direction again. She just lifted the remote off the sofa next to her and began flipping through the channels.
“Trust me, I ain't fucking with her like that. I just want a quick nut.”
Yanna looked up at her brother and scrunched up her face. “That hoe is nasty, and you're nasty for fucking with her. You gon’ catch something, and you shouldn't trust her hoe ass. I still don't get how she walked away from that shit and you didn't. Hell, you never know, she might be the reason why your ass got knocked in the first place.”
Miego looked at the strained expression on his sister’s face. The way she laid all that out, he knew that it had been on her mind for a minute. He’d thought the same thing a few times, and the idea was still in the back of his mind, but there was a part of him that just couldn't believe that Kia would do something so foul. He’d paid all her bills and made sure she was good. She didn't have shit after he went to jail, so it wasn't like she had another come up waiting in the background. It just didn't make sense. Either way, he didn't really trust her either, but he didn't feel that she was the reason behind everything that had gone down.
“Just be careful. I know you got history and everything, but these hoes ain't loyal, and I don't want to have to fuck her up. You know I will. Shit, cancel that, I do want to fuck her up.” A devious grin formed on Yanna’s face.
“Man, gon’ with that shit. You just wanna lay hands on her. I’m not fucking with you like that.” Miego mushed his sister in the head and she punched him in the shoulder.
“Yeah, I do, so what? For real, though, be careful. What’s your plan, anyway?” She looked over her shoulder to make sure her mom hadn't popped up on them. “You back yet?”
Miego smiled at his sister, knowing exactly what she meant. “Why you worried about that shit? I’m good, and I ain't hurting for shit. You need something?” He was curious about why she wanted to know if he was putting in work again.
“I want a lot of shit, but I don't need anything. I’m asking because I know you. You can't go from running things to doing nothing. It's all you’ve ever done, and I know you hate being here. I love you and everything, but your ass be using up all the hot water.”
“Man, fuck you, Yanna. That’s you with them damn playlists and shit you listen to for hours at a time while you in the got damn shower.”
Yanna burst out laughing. It was partially true, she had a playlist just for her shower routine, and it was kinda long. Not hours long, but long enough. “Shut up. I like my music, but for real, though. Just don't tell her your moves. I don't trust her, and she don't need to know what you’re up to, whenever you decide to be up to it again.” Yanna gave her brother a stern look before she focused on the TV again.
“I’m out, I’ll see y’all in a minute,” Miego said just as he looked up at his mother, who was coming his way again.
“Don’t forget, Tron is expecting you to be there tonight,” she reminded him again like he hadn't heard her the first ten times she’d mentioned it.
“I’ll be there, Ma, I promise.” He kissed his mother on the cheek one last time before he moved to the door.
Miego jogged down the stairs instead of taking the pissy ass elevator that had him praying for his life every time the doors closed. He passed two junkies and a corner boy who were making a deal before he pushed through the broken metal door to exit the back of the building.
After he hollered at a few of the neighborhood regulars, he made it to Kia’s building. Again, he opted for the stairs, and when he reached the fifth floor, he made his way to the end of the hall and knocked on Kia’s apartment door.
“Damn, what took you so long?” she asked after she pulled the door open, barely laid eyes on him, and then strutted down the hall wearing only a pair of yoga shorts and a sports bra.
Miego closed and locked the door, then looked around her apartment, which was full of shit that he had paid for at some point. Not much had changed, and it wasn’t going to change. Nakia had no motivation to work for anything. Her whole mindset was centered around the ‘what can you do for me?’ point of view. Miego found it funny how that never really mattered to him before because he always gave so freely as long as Kia was always down for him. But now that had changed, which had basically changed his whole perspective on everything, Nakia included. He was slowly starting to realize that she had never really been down with him, and instead had been down for what he could do for her. He would be sure to never make that mistake again, with her or anyone else.
“Damn, Kia, you just called me like an hour ago. That ain't shit. Why you stressing me, shorty?”
Once he reached Kia’s bedroom, he found her sitting Indian style in the center of her bed rolling up. Whatever she had was strong as hell because he could smell it from the hallway before he even entered her room.
“Hell, Miego, you should have had your ass here the second after I hung up. It ain't like you got shit else to do.” Kia rolled her eyes before he pulled his hoodie over his head and tossed it on the dresser.
He stepped out of his Timbs and sat on the corner of the bed. Looking around, he tried to ignore the dumb shit she was saying. All he wanted was a quick nut, and her mouth wasn't helping him stay motivated to be there long enough for that to happen.
“You can chill with that funky ass attitude. Don't worry about what the fuck I do, I still ain't on your dime, so don’t be clocking my fucking moves.”