Still Wifey Material (13 page)

Still down on the floor, I could hear the other cars swerving and stomping on brakes to try to get out of our way, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t heard the sirens of a police squad car. We’d been racing down this highway preventing those niggas in the next car from killing us for the past three to four minutes and no one had come to our rescue. What type of place was this? I knew that if we were in Virginia, the police would’ve showed up sixty seconds after the first shot was fired.

I buried my face between my arms and started praying. But as soon as I got to the part where I was asking God to spare my life, Neeko’s truck came to a screeching halt.
BOOM!
The impact of the crash shook me like a rattle. When I looked up, I noticed that both airbags had deployed. The passenger side airbag was sticking out like a white balloon, and Neeko’s face was buried deep in the airbag, which had knocked him unconscious.

I scrambled to my feet and pushed my way past the passenger’s side airbag to get into the seat. Once I was all the way up, I was able to look outside, and that was when I noticed that we had crashed into a metal rail on an exit ramp. When I realized where I was and that Neeko’s truck was smashed up really badly in the front, I knew that the police would surely be on their way. If I was caught with this guy, I was going to have to answer a lot of questions. And that would lead to my probation officer finding out what kind of niggas I was getting involved with, and I couldn’t have that, so I grabbed my handbag, pushed the passenger side door open, and hopped out of the truck.

I saw a lot of cars ride by the truck slowly to see what condition we were in, but I wasn’t paying their asses any mind. My main objective was to get the hell out of there. While I was walking away from the scene, this white man approached me while I stumbled across the grass and onto the pavement.

“Are you OK?” he asked, reaching out to grab my arm.

I snatched my arm away from him and gave him a mean look. “Yes, I’m fine. Now please move out of my damn way.”

“I was only trying to help you,” the man explained. But I wasn’t trying to hear him. My main concern was to get the hell out of there before the police came, so I kept my head down the entire time to prevent the man from getting a good look at me so he couldn’t give the police a good description.

Getting caught up in more bullshit with these nothing-ass niggas was becoming a bit tiresome. Thank God I didn’t get hurt, because that would have meant a ride to the hospital with the paramedics and a three-hundred-fifty-dollar tab for carrying me there on a stretcher. Besides that, my probation officer was a beast, so I couldn’t give that ho any reason to violate me. And the shit that just went on would be just the right amount of ammunition to have my ass cornered in her office answering a whole lot of questions. I was not in the mood for that, so I was gonna flag down the next taxi I saw and make my way back to my car.

I walked down the ramp that led to a busy intersection and at that intersection I saw a slew of cabs going in all directions, so I put my best foot forward and got into the first one that stopped. “Take me to the uptown district,” I instructed the driver.

“Where exactly are you trying to go?”

“Smith Street,” I told him and then I sat back in the seat.

The entire drive all I could think about was how badly Neeko was hurt. I knew he wasn’t dead because when I checked his wrist for a pulse, he was still breathing. I wasn’t a medical expert, but I knew that he had to be in real bad shape from all those gunshot wounds. But thankfully enough, I didn’t witness him getting killed. And I didn’t plan on seeing it happen on another date, so as far as I was concerned, that nigga was history. I was changing my number and crossing my fingers that he didn’t try to contact me anymore.

After the cab driver dropped me off at my destination, I hopped into my vehicle and left from downtown in a split second. I was doing forty miles per hour down Main Street and I didn’t have the slightest idea where I was going. I didn’t want to go home because I knew Kira was there and I wasn’t in the mood to see her. And I didn’t want to go back to the shop because Rachael’s nosey ass would have a lot of questions for me. And who knew, the police could have come up there looking for me too, especially if Neeko was one of those snitching type of niggas. So what was I going to do?

Depressed about my bad luck with these nothing ass niggas, I decided to hop on the phone and see if I could catch Bintu. I needed someone to vent to about what I had just gone through. I thought he might feel sorry for me and want to see me so he could console me, and that was just what I needed. I dialed his number and let it ring until it went to voice mail. I refused to leave a voice mail because I hated talking into those stupid things, so I got up the nerve to ride up to his nightclub. Shit, at that point I really didn’t care how he was going to take the fact that I had just popped up on him. I needed to talk, and he was the only man I could think of who I could confide in. I mean, he at least owed me that much since he’d been avoiding me.

Just a couple days ago I had gone to club looking for him, but I hadn’t been able to catch his ass. Fatu had lied to me and told me that Bintu had left town to take care of some business, and that he’d be gone for at least another week, but I didn’t buy that bullshit-ass lie. I was from Missouri, which was the Show Me state, so I had to see if he was in town for myself.

This time I decided to camp out in my car outside the nightclub. After about three long hours of waiting around, I started getting impatient and decided that I should go inside. Just when I was about to get out of my car Bintu strolled outside with some bimbo attached to his arm.

“I knew that nigga wasn’t out of town!” I screamed at the top of my voice, punching the steering wheel as hard as I could, but at the same time avoiding the pad that would have set off my car horn. Accidentally hitting my car horn would have blown up my whole plan of catching this nigga off guard.

As I emerged from my car, I was able to get a better look at this bitch he had dangling from his arm, and from what I saw, she wasn’t even all that! I could also see that they were both drunk because they were stumbling all over each other. They were carrying on like two alcoholics in fucking heat. Bintu was feeling all over this chick like he wanted to fuck her smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk.

The more I watched, the more my blood pressure went up, so talking to him about the shootout I was in with Neeko went right out the window. Without much thought, I jumped out of my car and stormed toward them like a raging bull. I had nothing else on my mind but to whip her ass and kick Bintu in his fucking balls. I wanted both of them to see how it felt to be hurt.

“You’re getting ready to take her to your house so you can fuck her, just like you did me the other night, huh?” I roared.

Stunned by the way I had just come out of nowhere, the woman staggered a little bit, trying to keep her balance. Bintu just stood there like he’d seen a ghost. I marched straight toward them, pushed the woman down to the ground, and immediately started throwing blows at Bintu. “Nigga, you ain’t shit! Got me ’round here calling you, leaving you messages, and you ain’t got the decency to call me back to let me know what’s up with us!” I screamed while I pounded the hell out of his head.

Bintu tried desperately to shield his head with his arms. He managed to say, “What’s your damn problem? Why are you acting like this?”

“Nigga, don’t play stupid! You had me lying in your bed, sucking on your little-ass dick and pretended like we were going to be together. You knew you weren’t trying to be in a relationship with me, so why did you play with my damn feelings?” I continued to pound him as tears fell from my eyes. “I am so sick of niggas like you carrying me like I’m some tramp or something. I am not a slut, so stop treating me like one!”

“What’s going on?” I heard a man yell from the front of the club.

I ignored his ass and continued to send down my wrath upon Bintu. Right when I was getting the best of his drunken ass, one of Bintu’s cousins grabbed me from behind and swung my ass around like I was a fucking rag doll. I didn’t know what hit me when I was flung to the ground. I scraped my knees and hands up pretty badly, but that didn’t stop me from getting back to my feet. I came back up swinging even harder.

“What’s wrong with you, nigga? You ain’t got no business putting your motherfucking hands on me!” I screamed.

The cousin had his back turned to me, trying to make sure Bintu was OK, so I charged at both of them. My punches landed on the cousin’s back and he retaliated quickly by putting me in a chokehold. I couldn’t breathe to save my life. Luckily for me, the nigga was only trying to restrain me from attacking them, because if he was trying to kill me, I would have been dead thirty seconds ago. Struggling to regain control of the situation, I kicked and squirmed the entire time he held me.

Finally a voice registered in my head. It was Fatu, and boy was I glad to see him!

“What’s wrong with you, Kofi? You’re not supposed to be handling a woman like that,” he said, chastising his cousin. Fatu turned to me. “Are you OK?” he asked.

Trying to regain my composure, I took a deep breath and massaged my neck. I nodded in response to his question. He turned back to Kofi and asked him why he had me in a headlock.

“She was hitting me and Bintu in our backs, so I had to stop her,” Kofi began to explain.

“You didn’t have to choke the hell out of me,” I croaked.

“If you’d kept your hands to yourself, I would not have had to put my hands on you.”

“Oh, go to hell!” I spat.

“What’s going on?” Fatu asked.

“She came from out of nowhere and started attacking us,” the woman blurted out.

“Bitch, I didn’t touch you!” I pointed out.

“You pushed me on the ground!”

“You lucky I didn’t go upside your fucking head!”

Bintu stood alongside the nightclub with his back posted up against the wall. He wouldn’t say a word. It was apparent he was pretty out of it from all the alcohol he had, not to mention I’d popped him pretty badly. From the looks of it, I’d stung him real good in his right eye and I was happy as hell because of it. I bet he wouldn’t play with my feelings anymore.

“Look, Nikki, I know you’re upset, but we can’t have this type of thing going on here outside the club.”

“Fatu, you know I’ve been trying to get in touch with Bintu for the longest. So when I saw him coming out of the club with this bitch all over him, I snapped. I mean, it was like he totally forgot about me.” I began to sob.

Fatu took my arm and escorted me to my car. I resisted at first because I wanted to talk to Bintu. I wanted him to look me in my face and tell me why he did me the way he did. I mean, that was the least he could have done. I felt like I deserved at least that much, but when Fatu explained to me that right then wasn’t a good time to approach Bintu because I probably would not get a straight answer out of him while the other woman was present, not to mention the fact that he was a bit drunk, I nodded and proceeded to my car.

“When am I gonna be able to talk to him? You know now he’s really gonna avoid me after what just happened.”

“Don’t worry about tonight. I’m going to talk to him. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Well, would you call me and let me know how everything went?”

“I’ll tell you what,”—He got silent, as if he went into deep thought—“why don’t you call me tomorrow afternoon?”

“I don’t have your number,” I said.

Fatu gave me his cell phone number and then we parted ways. I noticed Bintu had walked back into the club and Kofi was ushering Bintu’s whore into a cab. I was very pleased to see her carry her ass home. At least she and Bintu wouldn’t be spending the night together, so I felt like something did end in my favor.

On my way back to the house, I called Fatu and told him the main reason why I acted out like I did. He was sympathetic when I told him about the accident I had with Neeko, which made me feel good because I finally had someone to share it with. After I spilled my beans, I made him promise not to tell Kira about last night and about what I had just told him. He promised me that he wouldn’t, so I was happy about that. Before we hung up he reminded me to call him the next day.

“I will,” I promised.

***

The following day while Kira and I were at work, I slipped outside and called Fatu. I had to make sure she was busy working on a client so she couldn’t eavesdrop on my call. My heart was beating really fast because I had no idea what he was going to tell me about Bintu. When Fatu answered the phone, I exhaled and waited to hear what he had to say.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m fine. But how is Bintu?”

“He’s doing OK. Not too pleased about how you attacked him, but other than that, he’s fine.”

“Did you get to talk to him?”

“Yes, we spoke about what happened.”

“What did he say? Why was he avoiding me?”

Fatu hesitated for a moment and then he said, “First off, he said he wasn’t avoiding you. Secondly, he did say that you are a beautiful woman, but you and him aren’t on the same page, and that you two have different views about a lot of things, so he saw no need to lead you on.”

“Where is he now? I want to talk to him,” I snapped.

“He’s at our apartment, resting.”

I sighed heavily. “Fatu, that lame-ass excuse he gave you was bullshit, and you know it. I mean, let’s be real! He knows damn well he played me for a one-night stand. So why won’t he just ’fess up to it and stop being a fucking pussy about it!”

“Calm down, Nikki.”

“Come on now, Fatu, let’s be real! How in the hell is it humanly possible for a woman to calm down after she gets fucked one night, and the nigga who fucked her will not return her call the very next day? That’s some devastating shit, especially when the dick wasn’t that good. Did you know that I had to suck him off to get his dick hard so he could fuck me? That was a lot of damn work and I didn’t even get paid for it, so my feelings are hurt!”