Tiffany and Dior: Love in Las Vegas Streets (15 page)

   “Black, I figured you would say that. I talked to a few people and I am getting a lawyer. I am Mason’s blood relative. I am his only family. I am all Mason knows. He will be leaving with me and you cannot do anything about it. I am taking Mason with me and you cannot stop me.” I turned around, walking back into the long hallway and up the spiral staircase.

     When I reached the top Mason was sitting by the stairs with a sad look on his face. I gave him a tight hug and wiped away his tears with my fingertips. I kissed him on his cheek and gave him another hug. I stared into his brown eyes. “I love you Mason and we have to say goodbye to Black,” I said to him. Mason didn't say a word. He just shrugged his shoulders. I knew Mason was a strong boy. He didn't have to know all the details. He just knew he could trust me.

       When I walked outside Dior was waiting outside of his car. Mason got into the back seat and I climbed into the front seat. Before I could even put my seat belt on Dior pulled off so fast down the block.

   “Yo Tiffany, things about to get crazy.” Dior looked over at me.

   “What do you mean? We good. I got Mason and the money. We good, baby,” I tried to assure him.

   “I won't say shit now but I know who killed my brother and I am handling that shit tonight.”

   “Okay, Dior.” I let out a loud sigh, shaking my head. As much as I wished Dior wasn't into the street life I understood what he was about to do. I knew if Kurt was alive he would have been dealt with in the streets.

    “We got to get gas, bae, and go hide out at a hotel or something. I need time to think, ma. This shit going way too far,” Dior said as he looked over at me.

    “Are you serious?” I yelled? “It’s gone too far? You weren’t saying that months ago when I told you Black was my man. Now you want to act like a fuck b—”

    “Yo, Tiff, calm down! And watch how you choose your words when you talk to me. You always going off for no reason. Don’t be so difficult. I meant if that nigga try to hurt you I am going to fucking kill him too. I was just saying homeboy going way too far over you and I will do anything to protect you. After I handle this shit in the streets I'm getting you up out of here and giving you the life you always dreamed of. Not that material shit Black gave you but real love.”

“ Really bay ?” I asked as tears ran marathon down my cheeks.

“ Tiffany I love you and I want you to be my wife. My real wife and take my last name.” Dior pulled out a small red Cartier box, revealing a beautiful dark blue princess cut diamond ring. Dior had remembered, that royal blue was my favorite color and it was perfect with the shiny, tiny little diamonds dancing around the center diamond. It was perfect I held out my hand, twirling the ring.

“ Yes baby I will marry you,” I said as I held out my hand allowing him to place the ring on it. I sat back in my chair speechless. I never imagined I would get purposed to in the passenger seat of a car.

     At the end of the day I wanted to be with Dior for the rest of my life and that's all that mattered.

    “I think we should get married right now. I don’t need you going to jail if you get caught up in some shit. Let's just get married and leave town.” I tried to assure him but Dior was going to do what he wanted to do. 

    “A'ight, we going to get married and leave the city. You don't have to worry. I am not going back to jail.”

    “Okay, baby.” I sat back in the passenger’s seat trying to calm my nerves. Seeing Teresa badly beaten had me worried sick. 

“ Tiffany you need to chill out. We about to get married and leave Las Vegas in a couple of hours. I promise you ma, you going to be good.” Dior smiled as he leaned over kissing me on my lips.

     Seconds later, we pulled in front of the Bellagio and the sun was setting. The sky was lavender and blue, giving us a romantic view.  The Bellagio looked like a beautiful castle. Yellow lights shined bright, giving Las Vegas a beautiful glow. Colorful water fountains lined the driveway. Dior shut off his car and got out, handing his keys to the valet attendant before opening my door. When he opened the door my heart started beating fast. As soon as I got to my room I was popping a Xanax pill because my anxiety was sky high, I said to myself. I wasn’t anxious because I was getting married; I was excited that my plan worked and I was going to get my happy ever after.

      I stood off to the side as Dior talked to the clerk. After handing the clerk $2,000 in cash we were booked for a wedding ceremony in the chapel in two hours. I couldn’t believe everything was happening so fast. It took months to plan a wedding and I had only two hours to buy a dress and get my makeup and hair done. It was Valentine’s Day to make it worse and I knew everywhere would be crowded.

          Dior leaned over and kissed me. “Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

    Those were the last words Dior said before I saw him again in my dressing room before the wedding. I knew I would find love in the streets of Las Vegas. Or so I thought. I was in my dressing room getting dress one minute and the next fucking Dior. Then everything went left. I turned around to see the only person in the world I never wanted to see.

“You’re an even more beautiful bride when you’re moaning.” Black said as he entered the room twisting the cap on his gun to silence it. “ I brought you some red roses. The same roses I ordered from Italy to have at your mother and sisters funeral service. I guess it's the right thing to do.” Black signaled for two more men to place roses at my feet.

  “Black? What are you doing here? How did you get in here?” I said to Black as I covered myself.

“Congratulations. Too bad you won’t be attending your own wedding,” Black said sarcastically as he signaled for two oversized bodyguards to come into the room. They entered with guns pointed at Dior. 

“Please, put the gun down…” My words trailed off as he lifted the pistol, aiming it at Dior. Without warning, I jumped in front of him. The bullet pierced through my skin, causing a burning sensation.

          I fell down to the burgundy carpet that was underneath us, holding my chest with my right hand, trying to stop the bleeding. I couldn’t believe this was happening and on our wedding day. That’s when I realized I wasn’t having one of those never-ending dreams; I was shot inside of my dressing room on my wedding day.    

     As I lay on my back, I stared into the eyes of the man who appeared before me: my ex-boyfriend Demetrius “Black” James. His eyes were filled with darkness and cold, I guess the same way mine were when I looked at him that day I told him I was leaving. I knew hearing those words sent chills throughout his body because he didn’t say a word. He didn’t even put up a fight. He just let me leave.

      As I continued to lie there, it felt like the bullet was burning a hole in my chest. I was reminded never to underestimate a man like Black as tears rolled down my cheeks.  “Tiffany, baby, hold on. Don’t fucking die on me,” I heard Dior whisper as he held me in his arms. I tried to let his words sink in and give me strength to fight but the blood continued to flow heavier, and my lungs felt like they were going to collapse.

       I felt my eyelids get heavy and my body slowly drifting away. I was dying and I never wanted to leave my Dior without a wife or leave Mason alone in this world without someone to love or protect him. I closed my eyes as tears stained my cheeks. I could hear Dior begging God not to let me die. He continued to sob and pray. I lifted my hand that was covered in blood to touch him. That’s when everything went black.

      I guess God answered Dior’s prayers. I woke up in the hospital. I looked around the room to find Dior sleeping peacefully in a chair. I tried to get up but I couldn’t because I had IV cords hanging from my right arm and an EKG monitor hooked up to my stomach. I sat upright in the bed confused as I stared down at the EKG machine that showed two heartbeats. That's when it clicked. I hadn't had my period in months. I can't be pregnant, I thought to myself. I rubbed the small baby bump that I didn't notice until now.

    For months all I did was eat takeout food when I was with Dior so I figured I was gaining weight. I never complained because it seemed to go in all of the right places. Dior loved my thickness and that's all that mattered at the time. Wow, I am going to be somebody’s mother, I thought to myself.

    Interrupting my thoughts, I heard Dior’s voice. “Good morning, baby. I am glad to see you up. How do you feel?” he asked as he got up from the chair to move closer to me.

    “I am feeling much better now. How long was I unconscious?”

    “You were unconscious for three days. You lost a lot of blood. But baby girl, you’re a fighter. Doctors had to perform a surgery. The bullet hit a main vessel. The surgeon was able to find the bullet and stop the internal bleeding,” he said as he caressed my hair with his soft hands. 

   I smiled at Dior before giving him a passionate kiss. “I want to keep this baby,” I stated as tears ran marathons down my cheeks.

    “Baby girl, you can keep the baby. Where we’re going I will be able to take care of you both. You don't have to cry no more.”

    “I'm sorry, Dior,” I said in between sobs. A few weeks after your father died I found out I was pregnant. I didn't tell you because my mother made me get an abortion.”

   I searched Dior’s face but I couldn't read his facial expression. He was quiet and I could tell he was hurt. “Listen, I can't change the past. I love you, Tiffany, and you’re my woman. You will be a better mother now that you’re older.”

    “Do you really mean that?”

    “Of course, ma. I fucked up a lot as a teenager so I can't get mad at your for doing what was best. Back then I was young, reckless, and I wasn't ready to take care of no seed.”

    “I love you too, baby.”

    “I love you more,” Dior said as he gave me a passionate kiss. I was getting ready to say something when Dior’s phone started ringing. He didn't say a word as the unknown caller spoke into the phone.

    “A’ight, bet,” Dior said as he slid his Samsung Galaxy 4S into his pocket. I looked at his face and I could tell something was terribly wrong.

    “What happened, baby? Is everything okay?”

    “Some goons shot the block up in my neighborhood and killed my best friend Coop and Insane, a few minutes ago. We have to leave town now before the detectives come back asking questions,” he whispered as he went over to the wooden cabinet pulling out my black Nike jogging sweat suit and black Huarache sneakers. “Put this on.” Dior helped me get dressed. My mind seemed to be on overload.

    After I got dressed we were out. After disappearing behind the heavy metal doors of the elevator we made our way down to the lobby and past security without anyone getting suspicious. Dior pulled his car up to the front and helped me inside. We were sitting at the traffic light waiting on South Las Vegas Boulevard. The light seemed like it took for ever to turn green. When the light turned green I saw two black Cadillac Escalades with tinted windows pull up on the driver and passenger’s sides of car.

   “Dior, what's going on ?” Nervously, I looked over at him. The door swung open. Standing in front of me was a man dressed in all black with his face covered. Only his eyes were revealed. Leaning into the car, he reached in forcefully and pulled me out of the vehicle by the roots of my hair. “Please, no, stop!” I tried to wiggle my way out of the grasp of the man roughly escorting me down the dark alley. Without hesitation, the man hit me in the back of my head with the barrel of his gun.

Clack!

                                  {10}

    I could hear the man’s voice. “This bitch ass nigga is waking up,” he said. Then I felt him touch my shoulder and my breast too. I felt disgusted as he stuck his hands into my panties.

    “Aye mane, stop fucking around,” I heard another male voice shout. 

    “Ahhhh,” I heard a familiar voice cry in agony. Even with the blindfold covering my eyes I could feel his presence. I felt my heart cringe and my stomach twist into knots every time I heard one of the kidnapers assault him.

        As I listened apprehensively to the sounds of his bones crack from the forceful blows to his body parts, I could feel the man giving him a brutal beat down. Every time he tried to escape, the man would knock him back down.