A Thug's Wife (Full Length Novel) (15 page)

       “It’s
too cold out here to be without a coat,” Marco said as he walked up on Cherie.

       “Yea, I didn’t expect it to be so cold. I just came out here to smoke this lil’
cigarette my mama gave me. Tryna’ calm my nerves.”

      “Is it working? ‘Cause if not, I got somethin’ stronger. Shit’ll have you relaxed and feelin’ right. Ya’ hear me?”

        Cherie laughed, “What’s your name Hazel Eyes? I ain’t never seen you around before. You workin’ with Devon and Sym?”

        “M
y name is DeMarco, everybody calls me Marco though,” Marco flashed his Brick Money Boys tattoo that he had on his right forearm. “Ju Ju and Rakwon my brothers and yea we fuckin’ with Sym and that nigga Devon. Jumped on this little money train they got going on. Tryna get my pockets right.”

        “So I guess Sym them is really doing something. I’ve been hearing the little rumors.”

        “Yea everybody looking at Sym like he the new Frank Lucas out this bitch. He done came through to save the day for these young thoroughs out here. I see he sincere ‘bout his shit, and he was talkin’ my favorite color, so I had to get down.”

       “That’s what’s up. Good to see he doing big things. It’s been a long time coming for him. And it’s cool to see he got what seem
s to be some legit niggas rocking with him. Can’t beat that,” Cherie said with her words trembling. Even she hated Quasym, she had to give it up to him.

       “For sure,” Marco stepped behind Cherie and wrapped his arms around her body. He rubbed his han
ds up and down her arms in an attempt to warm her up from the cool misty air.          

       “So, what’s your name?”

       “Cherie.”

       “Cherie, I know this probably the most awkward time, but I’m really digging you. I don't know what it is, but so
mething telling me you need somebody to make you smile."

             
   "Oh, really? You gonna be that somebody that makes me smile?”

             
“If you let me.”

“I don't usually go for your type, but it's something about you that I like."

       "My type? Baby, I'm one of a kind. Trust, ain't no nigga like Marco."

Cherie laughed, "Yea okay."

Marco stepped away from Cherie and stood in front of her. He eyeballed her cute little waist and then brought his glare to her face.           

       "Tell me where you met another cat l
ike me?"

       "I'm saying dope boys. I normally go for the business type. You know the Ivy League type niggas. Dudes that got a 401-K, on salary, and got a retirement plan all laid out," Cherie placed her hand on hips and did her best not to stare at Mar
co. She was really feeling him, and it surprised her.
Least he not sagging and shit. I can't stand to see a dude showing his ass. Must say he don't look like a dope boy.
Cherie thought as she ran her eyes over his red and black Polo shirt and blue jeans. She then looked down at his red and black high top Gucci sneakers and was somewhat impressed.

     "Ivy League of these streets. Fuck that college shit and I ain't no dope
boy ma' and fuck that retirement plan shit. I’ll retire a nigga real quick though," Marco pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and pulled one out.

Cherie could tell that he was angered by the statement she'd made, but she didn't mean any harm. She was only tryna keep it one hundred with him. Typically he just wasn't what she went
for, but that didn't mean she wasn't feeling him.

      "I ain't mean it like that. I'm just saying, I don't normally fuck with street niggas."

      "And, I don't fuck with stuck up bitches. I holla' shawty," Marco fired up his square and walked away. Cherie could go fuck herself for all he cared. He was who he was and wasn't gonna change for one, not even Cherie. There were more pretty faces around that would gladly accept him just the way he was.

     "Marco!" Cherie yelled out to him. She hurried across the street and caught up to him. She tugged on his elbow and turned him in her direction. Kissing him on his cheek, she ran her finger down th
e side of his face. "Thank you for last night and thank you for keeping me warm just now. That was sweet."

         "Thugs can be gentlemen too in case you ain't know."

         "Can't you take a compliment? Or do thugs not know what that feels like?"

        Marco chuckled, "No need to thank me for being a man ma'. That's just what the fuck I do. Take your lil' stuck up ass on in there and check on your sister."

          Cherie smirked and rolled her eyes at Marco. She stared into his eyes feeling captivated by his street swagger. Just moments earlier, she was thinking about her happiness and being able to sincerely smile for a change and up walked Marco.
Maybe God is tryna tell me something
. Cherie thought.

          "You wanna go get breakfast? I'm
starving, and maybe it'll get my mind off of what's going on with my sister," Cherie suggested with a shrug of her shoulders.

           "You sure it's cool to be seen with my type?"

           "Marco, will you stop? Come on lets go to the Waffle House."

         Cherie grabbed Marco's hand, and the two of them headed towards Marco's car. After getting in, Marco cranked up the car and tilted the volume on the stereo to the max. Cherie sat back in the passenger's seat slowly bobbing her head allowing the mu
sic to take her away for a moment.

She snuck a peek at Marco and then quickly redirected her stare outside
of the car.
Yea I think I like him
. Cherie smiled as her heart fluttered. She placed her hand over her stomach and sucked in a deep breath. She was nervous, and that was good. She couldn't remember a man ever giving her butterflies in all of her nineteen years.

      Marco drove a few miles away from the hospital and pulled into the parking lot of the Waffle House. He got out of the car after parking
and walked around to open Cherie's door. "This the type of shit them Ivy League niggas do, right?"

      "Oh, my God, you are not gonna let me live that down are you?" Cherie asked as they walked toward the diner.

       "I don't know. Prolly not."

   
   They went inside the diner and sat in the corner booth located on the right side of the restaurant. Cherie grabbed her menu and began going over all of the breakfast items. She felt her stomach rumbling and immediately looked up for their waitress.

  
       "I am so hungry."

           "I can tell. Your stomach is loud as fuck right now."

           Cherie laughed, "You do not hear my stomach."

           "Shit sound like you got some little people up in there fighting or somethin'," Marco chuckled.

He stared at Cherie admiring her pretty skin tone. He was intrigued by her beauty, but knew if they went any further he would have to tame her nasty ass attitude. He couldn’t stand no stuck up bitch that thought she was too good for the world.

He could tel
l by looking at Cherie that she was little hood chick that wanted to be something that she wasn’t. Most chicks like her felt because they were pretty with a nice body that they could look down on the rest of the world, in an attempt to forget where they came from, but Marco was the type to put a chick in her place real quick. If Cherie kept up that attitude, he would have to knock her ass back down a few notches.

          "Whatever nigga. I know what I want, so I hope you ready."

        Cherie called the waitress over, and they ordered their food. A good fifteen minutes later, they had two full plates sitting in front of them and immediately started digging in.

        "Damn, I ain't even think to ask you if you had a man. Somehow I just assumed that you
were single," Marco said taking a sip of his orange juice.

         "I am single. I was in a relationship not too long ago, and it didn't quite work out. We decided we were better apart."

          "Good for me and thank Mr. Whoever he is for feeling that way."

          "What about you? I know you gotta have a couple chicks out there. Some baby mamas even."

          "There you go with that stereotype shit. I don't have no kids and if I did she wouldn't be my baby mama, she would be my wife."

           Cherie was at a loss for words. Marco was continuously surprising with every move he made and with every word he'd spoken.

           "If I had a chick, I damn sure wouldn't be all in your face tryna make you smile, ya' feel me? Too old for the games ma'."

           "So, when was your last relationship?"

           "Bout six months ago."

           "Why y'all break up?"

           "She died. She had lupus and didn't know until it gotten too bad to control."

          Cherie placed her fork on her table, "Damn, Marco. I'm sorry to hear that. Wow."

         "Yea, she'd started getting real sick over the past couple of years and kept saying it was colds and shit. I always knew somethin' wasn't right with her, but she wouldn't listen to me when I told her to get checked out. When she finally listened, it was too late. She spent the last few weeks of her life in Parkland Hospital."

          Cherie shook her head. She could hear the pain in his voice as he spoke and knew that the chick must've really meant a lot to him. She suddenly felt iffy about getting to know Marco knowing that she would most likely be compared to his ex al
l the time. "I am so sorry, Marco. I know that had to be really hard for you."

             "It's cool. It was hard in the beginning, but I'm just glad she's no longer suffering. I know she’s at peace, and that’s cool with me."

            "Yea, I umm--"

           "So, what you be doing Ms. Cherie. You go to school; you work? What's good with you?" Marco asked quickly changing the subject.

He hated talking about his girl Danielle. Everything had happened so fast when she was diagnosed with Lupus that no
one really had a chance to prepare for her passing. She was only twenty years old when she'd died and was getting ready to go to school to be a medical Assistant, but unfortunately her sickness took her down.

Marco dealt with the loss of Danielle day by d
ay and finally came to the conclusion she was in a better place. He really loved that girl. In fact, Danielle had been the only girl he'd ever loved.

    "I'm not really doing much these days. Haven't really figured out what I wanna do with myself. Been t
hinking ‘bout enrolling in college and pursuing law. I don't know yet though; I’m still young and tryna figure myself out."

    "You should do that. With the type of shit I be into, I could use a bad ass lawyer on my team."

     "Maybe I will," Cherie smiled.

     They continued to talk over their breakfast, getting to know one another and figuring out if each of them wanted to pursue the other. Cherie had to admit that Marco had her wanting to know more about him. She couldn’t believe that this thug had h
er intrigued in the way that he did. Upon leaving the Waffle House, one thing was for certain; they made a connection and had chemistry that neither could deny.

Chapter 16: Got the Trap House Jumping Like Jordan

A month later……
Devon jumped in the passenger's seat of Marco's car, and the two of them peeled out of the hospital's parking lot.
Got the trap house jumping like Jordan. Pull up in a brand new foreign. 300 on the dash And I paid straight cash.
The music was thumping as Devon settled into his seat, blasting Migo’s track
Trap House Jumping like Jordan.

A month had gone by, and Zaria was still in the hospital recovering from her gunshot wound. Even then, everyone had been working their asses off. Putting the Brick Money Boy
s on was one of the best things that Quasym could have ever done. He hadn't touched any weight since Zaria was shot, but had seen more money in the past few weeks than he had in the months since he started hustling for Andres.
                  Marco reached for the knob and turned the stereo down. "What up, D-Money?" Marco said to Devon calling him by the new nickname everybody had given him around the hood. He passed the blunt to Devon and leaned back in his seat.
                 "Shit. 'Preciate you coming to scoop me mane. Fuckin' truck went out on me."
              "It's nothin', but what the fuck you doing with your money? I haven't seen you spend a dime on anything besides weed and liquor."
        "Shit that's all I need for now. Tryna save up and get this house my wife been having her eye on. It's a hundred and seventy five thousand. I wanted to flat out buy it with no payments."
          "Who name you gonna put that shit in? Fuck around and have them Feds watching," Marco said as he hit a left on the next street and then pummeled the gas to enter the freeway.
          "I don't know what the fuck I'm a do. Gotta think of something though," Devon took a puff off the blunt and held the smoke in. He slowly blew the Kush in the air and then took another hit. "My fuckin' P.O. on my ass 'bout showing some check stubs and shit and then now she wanna start piss testing a nigga after she hasn’t in two years."
        "Damn bruh, you on papers?"
        "Fuck yea, I got five more years to go on this shit."
        "Fuck getting that house, you need to get a lawyer and try to get off them papers. Them damn white folks gonna have you sitting under the jail for some bullshit. Keep playin’."
          "I know. I’m risking it every day by being out here, but I gotta get this money. I ain’t got no other choice. I refuse to go back to that nine-to-five shit. My wife deserves better, and I'm tired living this way too, you know?"
          "Hell yea, I feel you on that. Maybe one of these days, I'll find me somebody to settle down with and make my wife. Somebody who I can give a life to ‘cause y'all making a nigga feel like he missing something," Marco chuckled.
          "What's up with you and Cherie? I see y'all been kicking it pretty strong lately."
          "Cherie is cool. I'm rocking with her, but I’m just taking it one day at a time though. I don't wanna rush through it. I ain't gonna lie and say I'm not feeling her ‘cause I am. She got me over here thinkin’ ‘bout her ass right now. Real shit.”