Still Wifey Material (22 page)

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Authors: Kiki Swinson

Tags: #Fiction - General, #Fiction, #Literature & Fiction, #African American women, #African Americans, #Drama, #Drug dealers, #Romance, #Man-woman relationships, #Inner cities, #Romance: Modern, #Contemporary, #Urban Life, #Houston (Tex.), #Street life, #General, #Romance - General

BOOK: Still Wifey Material
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“Wow! That’s deep.” Carmen drove with an expression of disbelief.

“Trust me, she didn’t shed one tear for his ass! That nigga fucked every stylist that worked for her, and he had three kids on her with three different hood chicks from the projects. So she was glad that nigga was gone. And when she got that big-ass life insurance check in the mail, that made her life even better.”

“Did they have a lot of money?”

“Yeah, he was dealing with some heavy weight.”

“How much you think he was bringing in on a weekly basis?”

I thought for a moment. “Umm, probably about a couple hundred grand, if not more.”

“That’s it?” Carmen snorted. “The way you were talking, I thought he was making around about what X be bringing in.”

“Well, see, I was just guessing because I really don’t know. But I do know that they were living in a half-a-million-dollar home, and they had a lot of money stashed.”

“What kind of cars were they driving?”

“Kira was driving an older model Lexus, and Ricky was driving a Benz.”

“Did she have any furs or mink coats?”

“Hell yeah! She had a ton of ’em. She had all the hottest Chanel bags, Dior dresses, fur boots, diamonds necklaces, and she even slept on Versace sheets. Ricky made sure she had the flyest shit on the streets. Everybody in Virginia knew them, so they made sure they stayed on point. Bitches around our way couldn’t stand her for nothing in this world. Every time I turned around different hoes would walk up in her shop and disrespect the hell out of her by airing her husband’s business to everyone who was in there, saying that they slept with him and dared Kira to say or do something about it.”

“What did she do?”

“Even though I can’t stand the bitch right now, I will be honest and say that she didn’t pay those bitches no mind. She acted like the bigger person, flaunted her big-ass diamonds, and told those hood rats that they could fuck her husband all they wanted, but they would never get his money because she held all the bank account numbers and the combination to the safe. And when she said that, those tramps were sick!”

“That was cute, but I bet she didn’t have a rock like mine,” Carmen commented as she admired her five-carat, princess-cut diamond ring with twenty-two side baguette-cut diamonds.

I looked at her ring and thought for a second. “Now, I ain’t gonna lie, your ring is hot! But I think Kira’s ring was a little bit bigger than yours. I remember her telling me her ring was a seven-carat diamond, and that Ricky paid well over fifty grand for it.” The lies kept getting bigger and bigger.

“I find that hard to believe,” Carmen replied with a snide look on her face.

“Well, believe it, because money was no object to Ricky, and everybody knew it.” It was obvious that Carmen didn’t like the idea of another woman having it going on better than her.

I looked out the window and smiled to myself. This bitch was starting to get on my fucking nerves with all this competitive bullshit. It was bad enough that I was competing with Kira, and I wasn’t about to go through the same crap with this ho! Either Carmen was going to have to get a grip, or I was going to find somebody else to hang out with. Better yet, it was time to end this little party real quick and call my boo Nate. At least I didn’t have to worry about him trying to outdo me. If anything, he was going to be trying to build me up. And that was exactly what I needed.

Walking Into a Death Trap
(Kira Speaks)

W
hen I arrived at Fatu’s apartment, the elevator ride that usually calmed me was making me sick. I wanted to bust the glass that surrounded me and run as fast as I could. The thing that kept me still was thoughts of the millions I could swindle from Fatu. There was no way he would deny me once I laid my cards on the table.

The elevator stopped and I exited. Fatu had the door cracked and I entered the house. Something felt eerie, like someone was watching me. Then I noticed a note on the table that sat behind the couch.

Kira, I had to run out, but I will return soon.

“Great,” I whispered. Fatu wasn’t home, which meant I would have enough time to find that bloody T-shirt and bounce. That was the only reason I risked coming to his house. I needed blackmail ammunition, and that shirt, which I was sure contained the DNA of one of the murdered women, was just what I needed.

I wasted no time racing upstairs. I burst into the bedroom and headed straight for Fatu’s closet. Just as I suspected, his maid had not done his laundry yet. She normally washed his things once a week, on Wednesday afternoons, but every now and again she’d do them a day or so earlier if his laundry started to pile too high. The first day I saw the bloody T-shirt in the hamper was on a Thursday, and since today was Monday, there was a really good chance that the shirt would still be at the bottom of the hamper.

I scrambled through the dirty clothes like a madwoman. I ran across a couple of pairs of his dirty boxer shorts and started to sniff them, but decided against it. The smell of sex would have definitely torn my stomach all to pieces, and I couldn’t afford to be in that state. After sifting through nearly every garment he had, I finally found that stained T-shirt and stuffed it into my handbag. All I had to do now was make it out of there.

“Baby, you love being in my closet,” Fatu’s voice boomed. I jumped so high, I could’ve jumped out of my skin if it were possible.

“Baby! I thought you were out. I didn’t hear you come in,” I gasped. Sweat beaded my hairline and my nose.

“I was.”

“So what are we about to do now?”

“Make love to me,” he stated in a very low tone. Fatu was acting very weird, and not only that, he could hardly look me in my eyes.

“O . . . OK. Let me just get out of these clothes,” I stammered.

Fatu looked down at my purse, then turned and walked out of the closet.

Oh my God, can he see the bulge of the T-shirt through my bag? Because if he did, I know he’s going to kill me for sure.

I immediately dismissed the thought when I came out of the closet and Fatu removed my clothes. He pulled me into bed with him, grabbed me in a tight embrace, and buried his face in my neck. He caressed me and kissed me gently, then forced himself inside me. I immediately threw up.

Fatu quickly scrambled off me. “Are you all right?” he asked. Concern was all over his face as he looked at the vomit splattered all over his comforter and pillowcase.

I sat up completely and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “It must’ve been something I ate earlier,” I lied and moved to the other side of the bed.

“Hey, where you going?”

“I’m getting ready to get a towel or something so I can get that mess cleaned up,” I explained.

“No, it’s OK. Take a seat over on the chaise,” he instructed me, “and I’ll clean it up.”

I walked over and sat down on the chaise lounge near the window and watched Fatu as he stripped the bed. I’d never seen him do any domestic duties the entire time we’d been dating, so watching him change the linens on his bed was a sight to see. Once the clean sheets and comforter were neatly in place, he escorted me back onto the bed. “Need some water?” he asked as he tucked the pillow underneath my head.

“No, I’m fine.” I turned on my side.

He stuck the other sheets in the hamper and returned to the bed with me. He cuddled me in his arms, and I started to feel nauseous all over again at the mere thought of him touching me. I told him that my stomach was starting to feel upset all over again, and when he moved back from me, I turned on my stomach and looked at the wall.

We stayed this way for the entire night. I couldn’t fall asleep because I kept thinking about what I had in my bag, and picturing the faces of all his victims. The very same day that I saw the news report on television, the newspaper ran a front page story with all seven women pictured on the front. I could see their faces every time I closed my eyes. I knew that the right thing to do would be to go to the police and turn in Fatu, but I also knew that I wouldn’t benefit in any way from that, because even though he would be in jail, I would still be working in the shop, and his family would be after me. That settled it for me. I wouldn’t go to the police at all. I would just get the money and move out of the country.

***

I crept out of Fatu’s house before he awoke. As soon as I made it into my car, I took a minute, inhaled, exhaled, and broke down. The life I once pictured for myself was gone forever. I knew that my next communication with Fatu would be to tell him the deal.

I got home and I immediately rushed to the safe I had installed in the floor of my closet. I opened it and retrieved all of my expensive jewelry, my bonds, and some dough I had been stashing. I walked around my closet and decided which of my handbags, shoes, jeans, and coats I would take with me. I knew for damn sure I couldn’t carry everything. I worked for almost an hour, loading my car with what I considered to be my essentials.

Then I drove to my Realtor Kendra Smith’s office and told her to put my house up for sale, and to see what she could do with the shop. I explained to her that I would be leaving for some time, but that I would be in contact with her to collect my money once everything had been sold. She and I had grown close, so she had a lot of questions that I didn’t have any answers to, especially when she asked, “Where are you going now, Kira?”

“I’m not sure, but I do know that I need to get out of here.”

After I signed a contract giving her exclusive rights to orchestrate the sale of my properties, I shook her hand and left.

Putting My Plan Into Motion
(Kira Speaks)

S
oon after I left Kendra’s office, my Blackberry rang. It was Fatu. My heart started racing at the speed of light because I knew it was time to let the cat out of the bag, now that I had all the ammunition I needed. I took a deep breath, answered the call, and started the ball rolling.

“Hello.” I answered the phone like I normally did.

“Where have you been all day? I’ve been trying to reach you,” Fatu demanded.

“I’ve been running around taking care of business.”

“What are you doing now?”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to meet me for dinner. Wouldn’t you like to go to Benihana’s tonight?”

“I’m sorry, but I am not in the mood to hang out with you tonight.”

Puzzled by my response, he said, “What do you mean, you don’t want to hang out with me tonight? What’s the matter?”

“I’ll tell you what’s the matter,” I snapped, just thinking about how sick he was. “I am not feeling you anymore, and the wedding is off!”

Confused by my outburst, Fatu asked, “What?”

“You heard me! I said the wedding is off.”

“But I don’t understand. I mean, why are you calling the wedding off?”

“Look . . .” I tried to gather my thoughts. “I know about everything. I know about the woman you raped and killed a couple nights ago.”

“Kira, what are you talking about?”

“Fatu, don’t play fucking games with me!” I roared. “I followed you the other night to Westminster Estates. And I saw you go inside that woman’s house, so I know it was you that raped and killed her. And I got the evidence to prove it.”

“You must be mistaken,” he said calmly.

“Fatu, please cut the bullshit out! Now I’ve got that bloody T-shirt you wore on one of your other murdering sprees, and I’ve got two pictures of your car parked on Potluck Drive, directly in front of your last victim’s house. So if you want to keep playing games like you don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about, then continue to play stupid! But don’t play stupid too long, because your chances of staying a free man are going to diminish by the second,” I said in a stern manner.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“I want two million dollars wired to my offshore account,” I said flatly.

“What!” Fatu screamed.

“You heard me! Now go in that stash you got from all that dope you sell out the back of your nightclub, and do like I just said.”

“You bitch,” he growled.

“No, nigga, you’re the bitch!” I shot back. “Now if you disrespect me again, I’m gonna take my price up to three million!” I warned him.

Sweat dripped from my armpits. I knew that Fatu was probably wondering where I was, and that the first place he was going to look for me would be my house, but my ass was long gone from there. I was on my way to check into a hotel so that he wouldn’t ever find me.

Fatu fell silent. I knew he was trying to think of the many ways he could kill me and dispose of my body. I wasn’t trying to be on his time, though, so I broke into his train of thought. “So, what’s it going to be?” I asked.

“How long do I have to wire this money?”

“It’s one o’clock now. I’m giving you twenty-four hours to make the transaction, so make it happen.”

“What am I going to get in exchange?”

“Your freedom.”

“I want the shirt and the photos too.”

“No problem.”

“So when will I get them?”

“After I find out the money is in my account.”

“OK, done.” He hung up without saying another word.

When the line went dead, my nerves ricocheted all over the place. I didn’t know how to take his sudden change of heart. I knew how Fatu was, and he was the type of man who did not like ultimatums. He was a very powerful and resourceful man. And with all the contacts he had around town I knew that he was going to try his best to find me no matter the cost, so I had to be on guard.

I got back on the phone and called my Realtor Kendra to ask her if she’d be able to put a hotel room for me in her name. She agreed without asking me any questions. I felt the need to give her some kind of explanation, even though it was a lie. I told her that I caught Fatu cheating on me and that I called the wedding off, which was the whole reason for me leaving, but until I actually left I didn’t want him to find me. She bought the story, met me at the Marriott near the airport, and took care of everything, then we parted ways once again.

“Call me before you leave town,” she said.

“I will,” I assured her.

After I got inside my hotel room, I settled down and watched a few movies. Around five o’clock I ordered room service. Periodically I hopped online from my laptop to see if the transfer had been made, and when I saw that it hadn’t, I wasn’t a happy camper. Fatu still had some time left before I went to the police, but it wasn’t as much time as he wished.

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