her long before they married—like six months ago.

  Man, Duke was off the motherfucking hook. He was crazy as hel .

  The article went on to talk about the police had the name of one of his known female

  accomplices, and they were on the lookout for her. She was the last one seen at the house of Katrina

  Bishop, and had lived in one of four condos or townhouses that Duke Carrington owned. The police

  had searched his condos, townhouses and evidently, three other residences he owned. They named

  the locations of the residences and none of them was the one in Chesapeake.

  When I put the newspaper down, I was stunned. I didn’t know if I was coming or going. I wanted to

  cal the detectives and tel them I didn’t have anything to do with any of this. But that would have been

  a mistake . . . and a lie. I had a hel ava lot to do with this. I had beaten Diamond down, plus I was there

  when she was kil ed, and I had intimate knowledge of Katrina’s death and the death of two innocent

  women because they knew Duke’s flunky, Chris.

  No, my name wasn’t associated with Duke Carrington in any of this. But it was associated with

  death—in a major way.

  For now I said fuck it.

  I took another shower and got myself together. I tried on al of the clothes Bishop had bought me

  the day before. I felt like the Queen Bee. I thought about our moment in bed and the lovemaking, and

  damn, my pussy got wet al over again. Shit, I was hoping we had a chance to do that shit again

  before he left. But truthful y speaking, my mind was on leaving with him.

  Around six o’clock that evening I started getting worried, plus I was hungry as hel . I had had a

  couple bags of chips and a drink the whole day, and I was extremely hungry now. I hadn’t heard from

  Bishop. Once again, I was thinking he had bailed on me. It was the story of my life, people I gave a

  damn about bailing on me. I was anxious and the anxiety was kicking the shit out of me. I searched

  for the detectives business cards but for some reason I couldn’t find it.

  What the hel ? What did I do with it?

  I knew I had the card after I got out of the lake and I had it at Devin’s place. Bishop! Shit, he had it

  and now I knew my ass was in trouble. And don’t ask me why I did what I did next, but I started

  packing the luggage he had bought me that morning. I was getting out of here but I wasn’t leaving my

  clothes. I didn’t stop to think about how shal ow that was.

  But as I was packing, the door opened and it was Bishop, along with his boys, Torch and Monty.

  Bishop had food in his hand. I felt so relieved, even though I wasn’t sure I would live to see another

  day.

  “Going somewhere?” Bishop asked.

  “I wasn’t sure,” I began. “I hadn’t heard from you and I didn’t know if you were alright. You know it

  was a wild night and my adrenaline is kicking my ass. Plus, I’m hungry as a starving bear in the

  woods.”

  “Al is cool,” he said.

  He turned on the TV and let me eat. I felt bad not believing in Bishop, after al he had done for me

  in such a short time. Plus, I was sure there was no place on God’s green earth that could save me

  from the man if he came looking for me. I was a wreck and I knew it. Trust issues would be the death

  of me. I just hope that death was not in the short-term future.

  After I ate, Bishop dropped Detective Whitfield’s card down on the table where I was eating. I

  didn’t know what to say or think.

  “This is what we are going to do,” he said. “I want you to cal Detective Rosenberg, and read what

  I wrote down here. I want you to read this first and get familiar with it. I also want you to do some

  improvising but improvise with the information I provide you. I wil also be whispering in your ear what

  to say. Understand?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t completely get it, but I understood. So I read what I was to say. Bishop

  had even written down possible questions the detectives may ask and my answers to those

  questions. When I was completely confident with the game plan and script, he made the cal on a

  phone that was hooked up to three other phones that was hooked up to some kind of device.

  Detective Rosenberg answered on the first ring and stated his name. On my end I was on the

  speakerphone.

  “Yes, this is Lynise, tel your partner, Detective Whitfield, to pick up on the other phone, and both

  of you listen to what I have to say.”

  The phone went silent for a minute and I realized Rosenberg was talking to his partner. Then they

  both were on the line.

  “No sense in trying to trace the number,” I stated. “First, the phone is a burner, secondly, it wil be

  routed through at least three sites before you can a decent hone on my general location. Also, what I

  have to say, I don’t think you want anyone else hearing. And lastly, I have at least fifteen minutes

  before that wil occur, so listen and do what I say.”

  Even though I was reading off a script, I felt confident, like I was in charge.

  “Lynise, you need to turn yourself in,” Detective Whitfield said. “You are in a lot of trouble and we

  are the only people who can help you. Your friend, Diamond, is dead, Katrina is dead, Neeko is dead,

  do you want to be next.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Detective,” I said. That was me, not the script. “This is the play, the only play,”

  the script read. “This is the address Duke Carrington is held up. This is the house you guys don’t know

  about.” I gave him the address in Chesapeake. “This is what’s going to happen. “First, you are going to

  get your guys and coordinate with the Chesapeake Department, and you guys wil raid his home.

  That’s a given. But I also expect you to cal the radio and television stations I give you, and they wil

  broadcast that you guys have found Duke Carrington and are breaching his house a minute before

  you guys knock down the doors. Understand?”

  “No, we don’t understand,” Rosenberg weighed in. “What makes you think we are going to get

  radio and TV stations involved in taking down a murder suspect. Not going to happen, missy. Now,

  turn yourself in or you are going down with your boyfriend.”

  I laughed to myself. I couldn’t tel Rosenberg from Whitfield. And I loved it. It’s always nice to see

  the true colors of a cop come out.

  “Detective, both you and your partner have other two thousand shares in Carter Business Holding

  Incorporated. Shares neither one of you could afford. Yes, I think you guys wil leak this story to the

  local news stations if you don’t want Internal Affairs investigating you.”

  The phone went silent and I knew both men had their hands over the receiver and trying to

  decide what was the best way to go. Then Detective Whitfield came back on, “Lynise, if you fuck us

  on this, that’s your ass and that’s a promise.”

  “You have one hour, Detective. If I don’t hear what I want to hear, I promise you, the e-mail I have

  drawn up wil be sent to the Chief of Detectives, the police chief and every newspapers and radio

  and television station in this area, as wel as an anonymous e-mail sent to the FBI. So Detective

  Whitfield, no, don’t fuck with me. One hour, the clock is running.”

  Who said a bitch can’t run the show?

  Cheaper to Keep Her part 2 Unique

  Tick, Tick, Tick-Chapter Twenty-Seven

  In the company of dangerous men—it was my lifelong dream, but it was my destiny.

  We packed the Escalade and got on the move after that. Evidently Bishop had already given

  Torch and Monty the address to where we were going because the GPS started talking to us as soon

  as we pul ed out of the hotel parking lot.

  We were headed west as we jumped on I-64 headed towards Hampton, Norfolk or Newport

  News, or something west of our current location. We had checked out of the hotel and packed

  everything up. I also noticed we had a black duffel bag that was ful of weapons. We were headed out

  and Bishop was real y turning over Duke to the cops. I wasn’t sure because we were dressed

  similarly to our outfits the night before.

  The sun was already down and I didn’t know the game plan. I was sure I was the only one who

  didn’t know the plan.

  “Where we going? Are we stil going to take Duke down?” I asked with genuine concern and worry

  in my voice.

  “Chil , baby. Just enjoy the ride,” Bishop said. So that’s what I did.

  When we went through the tunnel and then got off I-64 by the Hampton University exit, I definitely

  didn’t know what was up. I looked around the area and tried to guess where we were going and I

  couldn’t.

  Then we final y rol ed into the outskirts of downtown Hampton, in a warehouse district, I was

  completely lost. I had never been in this area before in al the years I had lived in the

  Tidewater/Virginia Beach area.

  We pul ed over before we reached our destination. The GPS said we were a quarter mile form

  our destination. But we were parked.

  “What’s up,” I said.

  “Duke wasn’t at the Chesapeake home,” Bishop began. “He has been hanging out here in this

  warehouse district. He has about three or four guys at the house in Chesapeake. His game plan was

  to cal in anonymously tomorrow to the cops and while they were getting their shit together, he would

  escape via a private jet at the Norfolk airport.”

  “How you know al of this?” I asked.

  “I have my ways,” he said and smiled.

  He gave me a 9mm Beretta for protection. He had at least three guns that I could see and a knife,

  while Torch and Monty were trapped to the hilt with guns and assault rifles. This shit was heavy. And

  yes, I was scared.

  The area was darker than any normal area. I noticed the lights that surrounded the place were al

  out. When we reached the warehouse, I noticed there was an old, dark color Chevy Impala between

  the warehouse we were about to breach and the one next to it. Bishop had a mini-radio attached to

  his belt and I knew he was listening to one of the radio stations we had gave the detectives to inform

  me a minute before the breach was supposed to happen.

  When he heard what he was looking for, we al went in the same door and immediately we

  spread out. I stayed with Bishop. And yes, I was scared as shit.

  The warehouse was big. There was machinery al around the place. Also, it wasn’t an open area

  warehouse. There were different rooms and office spaces, plus a big supply tool area that was inside

  a caged area. It was then I also noticed I was the only one without ear buds. The other three guys

  were communicating amongst themselves, and I couldn’t hear what was going on.

  I also realized I was the only one without night vision goggles. But I had Bishop and I felt safe.

  Then we heard the gunshots and instead of running where the shots were coming from, Bishop

  had taken another route.

  We stil heard gunshots as we deliberately made our way to the area where the shots were

  coming from. I didn’t know why we didn’t take the more direct route. Then it dawned on me. We were

  coming in from the back, behind Duke.

  Then I saw him. He was by an office area, the light was on. He had three handguns, two Uzis and

  a rifle that I would later learn was a Russian-made AK-47, and a ton of ammunition.

  Bishop took off his goggles and some of his gear. He kept his weapons. He told me to stay put.

  He told me when the lights came on, to cal out Duke’s name. He smiled and told me everything

  would be okay. I smiled back. A reassuring smile. I had belief in this dude and I knew he had the same

  thing in me.

  I had to admit. I was afraid. Bishop moved slowly, deliberately, with a purpose. Then the lights

  came on and I can only surmise he had told one of his guys to hit the switch.

  As soon as the lights came on, I did as told. I showed myself and cal ed, “Duke!” as loud as I

  could.

  When he saw me, he turned in my direction, and this was fol owed by five quick shots. Except it

  wasn’t Duke shooting at me or anyone else.

  It was Bishop.

  This muthafucka had shot Duke in the front bone of both legs, directly below the knees, plus he

  had two shots in his thighs, one in each thigh, very close to his groin, and the last shot was right below

  his neck and right above his Kevlar vest. Fuck! I had never seen shooting like this before. Bishop was

  Bil y the Kid reborn.

  When Duke was hit, he dropped the rifle he had in his hand. Bishop and his boys moved in fast. I

  was right on his heels. I had to see this. I wanted to get as close as I could.

  The man wasn’t dead.

  No one said anything, until I did. “You know what, Mr. Carrington, you have never looked as

  attractive to me as you do now.”

  He tried to get the words out, but he couldn’t. That last shot below his neck had fucked him up. I

  was sure he was trying to tel me to fuck off or go to hel .

  “Duke, I wil go to hel , but you are going first. And when you get there, which wil be soon, tel

  Diamond and Chris that I said hel o.” I stopped while he took it in. Then I said, “By the way, meet

  Bishop. You remember, Neeko’s brother, the one you thought you had blown up.”

  His eyes got bigger and a tear from his eye.

  Bishop didn’t say anything. When a slight smile came over Duke’s face, Bishop aimed his gun at

  Duke’s head to put the final bul et in that muthafucka’s skul .

  I beat him to it. I held the gun with both hands and before Bishop could squeeze the trigger, I fired

  off three shots—al to Mr. Duke Carrington’s head.

  Die muthafucka! This was for the girls who died for nothing, not knowing the faith of their children,

  and for Neeko and al the patrons and workers who had died at the club in the bombing.

  And lastly, this was for me. It was cheaper to keep me, bitch!

  Cheaper to Keep Her part 2 Unique

  Epilogue

  This was just the beginning!

  The phone rang three times, before a nice sounding young lady picked up, “Hel o, Carter Business

  Holdings Incorporated,” she said.

  “An old friend cal ing for Anthony Carter,” Bishop stated.

  Evidently the young lady recognized Duke Carrington’s phone number. The line was stil opened

  when she said, “Mr. Carter, someone is cal ing you on Mr. Carrington’s phone.”

  The phone went to music, meaning Bishop was on hold. Then when the phone was reconnected,

  a male’s voice said, “Anthony Carter speaking.”

  “Why so formal, AC,” Bishop said. The phone went silent as if Anthony “AC” Carter had heard a

  ghost. “If you are there, more than likely, TC is right next to you. Am I right?”

  “Without a doubt, you are definitely right,” the hoarse voice of Terrence “TC” Carter replied. “How

  in the hel are you Bishop? It’s been a while. When was the last time we saw each other?”

  “That would be Manhattan, five years ago, when AC tried to have me kil ed for fucking his then

  fiancée,” Bishop replied.

  I didn’t know what to think listening to their conversation. It was the next morning after we had took

  out Duke Carrington. It was a business day. Everybody was at work. Everybody except us. We were

  in an expensive hotel in Crystal City, the Arlington, Virginia area, about mile or so from the Pentagon.

  We had spent the night here and yes, we had explosive sex again—actual y two times since

  checking the hotel.

  The police found four men at Duke’s Chesapeake home along with several women taking care of

  newborn babies. They also found several young girls waiting to deliver babies. So Detectives

  Rosenberg and Whitfield stil ended up being heroes. Chris and the two women who had died a

  couple of nights ago were also found in Shakira’s house and those murders were attributed to Duke

  as wel .

  Final y, I made a cal back to the detectives and gave them Duke’s whereabouts. Bishop had me

  tel them that the smart move would be to write it up as a gunfight between the detectives and Duke.

  Of course they jumped at that opportunity.

  What’s better for cops than being double heroes? That definitely beat a dozen of donuts and

  coffee.

  I was my now Bishop’s ride and die bitch.

  My future was bright and this was my new beginning.

  “Bishop, go fuck yourself!” Anthony Carter said excitedly. I was sure he probably had the woman

  kil ed that Bishop fucked. I wonder why she did it and more importantly, why did he do it.

  Bishop laughed at his comment. “I’m not going to prolong this communication,” he began. “Family

  has always been off limits, but you brothers changed the game. You kil ed Neeko and he wasn’t a

  threat to you guys operation. He was trying to go straight and never fucked with anyone, but you guys

  sanction Duke Carrington, and now, my brother is dead,”

  “Bishop, it wasn’t like that, and you know that,” Terrence Carter replied. “We didn’t have control

  over Carrington. He was a rogue. If anything, the pressure may have been on to pay us, but we didn’t