If you told me I’d lose my fortune in the near future, I would still decide to leave my organization, if it meant I could keep Rayna by my side. I’ll be a hustler until they bury me, I can always make a dollar. But I could never get another woman who makes me believe in possibilities beyond me. The possibility of love.
I close my eyes and contemplate the phrase from Rayna’s vows—love’s improbable possibility.
~~~~~~~~~~
Rayna
As I walk to my car, all the way in the rear of the recreation center’s parking lot, the sun’s illumination is dim, but there are still hours left before it will retreat and I’m glad to still have the energy to make it to my counseling session. First, I plan to stop at the mall to pick up Erin a Hello Kitty cover for her iPad. I called ahead and was told there are only three left.
Unexpectedly, I hear footsteps behind me. Usually, I wouldn’t be so alarmed, but since John was called away on an emergency this morning, I’m somewhat alert. His presence has given me a security blanket effect. I turn to chance a glance over my shoulder, but I’m unable to catch an image so quickly. I hate having security, but in this moment, I wish with everything I have that I had someone with me.
Calm down, Rayna! Don’t be ridiculous, you’re in a huge parking lot. But no one I know is around, at least anywhere that I could see. Azmir said he’d have someone observe me to my car, but I was too impatient to wait for that arrangement, I have things to do. I hear the footsteps speed up, gaining on me. I then increase my sprint towards my car…as does the stride behind me. My heart begins to race. Similar to the incident with Azmir in Puerto Vallarta, it’s fight or flight. What to do? Once I make it to the car, I’ll need time to get in and lock the doors. I could be attacked trying to do that. I can’t help it. I have to confront this.
I jolt around to meet whatever is behind me, and when I do, I yell, “For what…why are you on my ass?”
Out of nowhere, Marcus calls out, “You gotta problem here, homes?” as he races toward my perpetrator.
The man is tall, with dark hair and olive skin. He wears a blue jacket, a black shirt, blue jeans, and thick black shoes that could be confused for boots. He’s scowling at Marcus whose presence has apparently surprised him, too.
Marcus is close up on him at this point and is preparing to grab the guy before he screeches, “I’m law enforcement!” He flips out his badge and goes for his gun at the same time. Marcus attempts his gun as well, but clearly quickly registers that he’s an officer and doesn’t expose it. The cop must notices and warns, “I’m gonna assume that you were about to scratch an itch that’s instantly disappeared rather than preparing to pull a gun on an officer,” in a quirky tone.
Marcus wears an expression of, Your badge is the only reason I’m not kicking your ass.
“What are you doing following me around then? And don’t say you weren’t because Marcus wouldn’t be here if he, too, didn’t consider you a threat!” I demand.
“Consider it an act of kindness from the Federal Bureau of Investigations. I’m sorry if I’ve alarmed you,” he ends apologetically.
“Well then, what is going on? Do I need to file a complaint?” I grate.
“Mrs. Jacobs, I need to talk to you about Divine. There are some—” he attempts.
“Who?” I belt.
“I’m sorry. Azmir Jacobs…your husband. There are some things you need to know about him…for your safety,” he continues.
Now, I know my husband’s full name, but it doesn’t register with me right away. Maybe because of the way he enunciated it, or that was the last thing I thought I’d hear, but initially I have no clue of who this man is referring to.
“Rayna, man, just go ‘head home. You ain’t gotta listen to this pig!” Marcus pleads before turning to him and saying, “Unless you’re gonna arrest somebody, you need to get the fuck outta here. This private property, fam,” in his rich Compton cadence.
The detective chuckles while giving Marcus a sly smile. He then turns to me while fumbling in his back pocket. “My name is Agent Lombardi. Mrs. Jacobs, I think you should know that Jacobs is a very dangerous man who’s being investigated for being at the helm of a major drug trafficking and distribution operation. I just thought you should know seeing that you’re married into something you likely had no idea existed.” He then tries to hand me a manila envelope.
“Yo, man!” Marcus yells as he extends his arm. I can tell he wants to prevent me from hearing what the detective is saying.
What is he saying? This can’t be. I’d know if my soul mate, the man that I’ve committed my life to was a lowlife drug dealer—or kingpin no less. This was out of this world ridiculous!
“Be easy…” this detective guy, Lombardi, warns. “…before my perception of your hand going towards your waist area changes and we drive out of here with you in cuffs for illegal possession of a fire arm and attempted murder of law enforcement,” It’s all happening too fast.