Biker Chick by Dakota Knight Page A

swallowed.
    â€œWe’re going legit. That’s what you told me.”
    Ray smiled. “I’m going to take care of you, Cristal. You’ll never have to worry about a thing,” he said confidently.
    I sighed in relief. “I’ll show her,” I said, hoping against hope that I was right.

Chapter Twelve
    I waited for something solid and sure . . .
    I should have known that the yellow in my brick road wasn’t gold. When I began relying on others, I lost sight of myself. Yeah, I was living large with my man, letting him take care of me so I didn’t have a care in the world. I was so in love with Ray that I made him the center of my life. I even gave up my own hustle. We celebrated the perfection of our relationship in every way. It seemed like time sped up, went into overdrive. Three years passed by in a blink of an eye. Everything happened so fast, it seemed like a dream.
    Three years later, nothing had really changed. I was living a lavish lifestyle with Ray. We ate in Columbus’s best restaurants and he supported my addictions for Prada everything, Fendi and Louis Vuitton bags (real ones, no less), Jimmy Choo shoes, and one-of-a-kind boutique shopping by supporting my habit with a seemingly endless amount of cash. And yes, I became an addict. I was dressed in designer something everyday and all day. I basically became a wifey. The woman of a dealer who holds it down at home while the man brings home the bacon laced with crack cocaine and weed.
    I played my part. I was a willing participant in the game. I kept myself in shape and made sure to look good for my man 24/7. When we weren’t eating out, I always made sure there was food on the table when Ray came home. Don’t get it twisted, I didn’t cook a thing, but I found a personal chef that would make complete dinners that I stored in the refrigerator and could warm up during the week. And Molly Maids kept our house in excellent condition. Despite all the good going on, something was missing. Or, should I be more precise, something was gone—the promise me and Ray made to each other to live a legit life.
    I never asked about Ray’s business activities at first. I had been around the streets of the Meadows long enough to know what the deal was without having it thrown in my face. Plus, I never thought to ask. In fact, I put everything on the backburner until Ray started spending more and more time away from home. He was going on business trips, he said. Then he told me he couldn’t tell me where he was going. I took it all in, but then something started tugging in the back of my brain. Something in his voice, the way he looked at me when he tried to explain why I’d be spending another night in a cold bed. In the midst of my growing loneliness, it occurred to me that Ray’s constant planning to get out of the game had faded. And with the time he was putting in with the Cruz, it appeared that he was only falling deeper into the rabbit hole.
    â€œI’m sorry, Ma, it can’t be helped. The Cruz got me ridin’ hard, taking care of business. I’ll make it up to you when I get back.” Ray bent down to kiss me, aiming for my lips. I turned my head and his heavenly lips landed on my cheek. Despite my frustration and irritation, the warmth from his lips spread from my face down through my body.
    I resisted my body’s attempt to undermine my mind’s emotions. I stepped back, folded my arms across my chest, and pouted. “Why are they sending you off again?” I asked like he would really give me details.
    â€œWhy are you trippin’? You know the deal.”
    I pouted again and began tapping my left foot. I may not have been tired of the life, but I was tired of the game. It was time for me to broach the subject we hadn’t touched on in a long time.
    â€œWhen are you going to quit the Cruz. It’s been years . . .”
    Ray’s irritated grunt interrupted me.