Shy tried to stay as calm as she could with a gun pointed at her head. She’d just been taken hostage from Black’s Paradise, a reggae club on the beach in Freeport on Grand Bahama Island. She glanced over at her abductor and then to his stomach. He was losing a lot of blood. "This man is gonna die unless you do something to stop the bleeding," Shy yelled at the driver.

"How bad is it, Julio?" the driver asked.

"It’s bad, Sal," Julio said as he continued to hold his gun to Shy’s head.

"Hold on, man. I’ll get you to a doctor."

The sight of Julio’s blood took Shy back a couple of years to the night she got shot. She thought she was going to die sitting alone in the backseat of that car.

Shy could hear the cop yelling, "Freeze!" as she turned and pointed her gun at him. The bullet hit her in the upper right chest, near her shoulder. Shy shot back as she fell, and hit the cop with one shot to the head. When she got up, deciding not to take the time to ponder the ramifications of killing a cop, she picked up the briefcase and proceeded down the fire escape. That night changed my life forever, Shy thought as she felt Julio’s gun in her side.

"What’s your name, sweetie?" Sal asked.

"Cassandra Black," Shy answered defiantly.

"Cassandra Black, as in Mike Black is your husband, Cassandra Black?"

"Yes," Shy said, hoping that his name carried some weight, but unsure whether it was a good or bad thing. Where are you, baby? Shy thought. Mike Black had always been there for her. When someone was trying to kill her, it was Black who provided her with the lead that she needed. And it was Black who intervened when Hector told her, ‘no money, no product’. In the time that she’d known Mike Black, he had saved her life three times, if you count him sending Bobby and Freeze to save her when she had gotten in over her head. I need you to save me now.