The Available Wife (5 page)

CHAPTER 5

As I walked the room, I noticed all the men and women staring at me. Hell, I couldn’t blame them though. They saw confidence, attitude and money and knew that Germaine had picked a good one. The women wanted to be in the size five dress that I was rocking and the men wanted to be under it. I knew that I was going to be overdressed when I picked out my outfit, but that was my point. I wanted all eyes on me. Again, I loved attention whether it was bad or good.

I walked over to the open bar that was made up of two long, buffet tables. Those crowding the tables helped themselves to beer from kegs, bottles of Hennessey, Courvoisier or whatever was available. I wanted a glass of champagne, but quickly realized I wasn’t going to get one after seeing all the ghetto, red cups being passed around.

“Amateurs,” I pouted softly.

Suddenly, the DJ began playing the
Cupid Shuffle.
I was nearly trampled over as everyone made a mad dash to the dance floor like it had rained EBT cards with the pin numbers.

“You wanna go out there?” someone asked.

I turned around, and was faced with one of Germaine’s frat buddies from outside. I wondered if someone told him that the Mohawk style didn’t look good on his lemon shaped head.

“You’re Hummer, right?” I asked trying to remember the names during Germaine’s introduction. I stepped away from him because he was all over my dress.

“Yeah, I’m Hummer,” he answered with drunken eyes and alcohol breath.

“What kind of name is Hummer?”

“Ask about half of these women in here,” he slurred. “I hum on that pussy and…”

“T-M-I! I don’t need nor do I want to hear that,” I replied then turned my nose up at him.

“Alright then,” he laughed. “So, you don’t shuffle?”

“Absolutely not. Nor do I swag surf, stanky leg, booty do, crank that or jerk.”

“What?” he asked.

“In simple terms that you may understand, I don’t dance.”

“Do you think you’re too good to do the hood dances?”

I smiled. “Are you serious? I’m from the hood and besides, I have rappers on my label so don’t come at me with that shit.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I just don’t fucking dance,” I snapped.

“Then you can’t be from the hood,” Hummer responded.

“Let me explain something to you, sweetie. I’m from the hood, but I’m not hood. And one thing has nothing to do with the other. You understand?”

“Someone as sexy as you and with an ass like yours should be out there flaunting her stuff,” he slurred. I was beginning to feel a little uneasy, but I held my composure. “Germaine won’t mind if that’s what you think.”

Something about his statement instantly bothered me. “He probably won’t mind, but I do. What is that supposed to mean anyway?”

“So, I guess Germaine never told you about how we used to share, huh?” Hummer spoke as he pressed against me. I instantly shoved him off of me before he could scuff my shoes.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I barked at him.

He grabbed me by the arm when I tried to walk away. “I…I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean anything by what I said,” he stated. “I just had too much to drink tonight.”

I yanked my arm away and searched for Germaine through the purple, gold and white balloons that were floating everywhere. Seconds later, I spotted him at a table conversing with a few of his friends. I walked up with an instant attitude.

“Hey, baby. This is Tyrell,” Germaine introduced. “He’s the one who I told you about. You know…the one who’s getting married.”

“I’m ready to go,” I spoke frantically, ignoring his introduction as well as Tyrell’s fat hand that was extended.

Germaine could see the disturbed look on my face and hopped out of his seat. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“We need to go, Germaine. I can’t stay here in this shit-hole.”

I could tell by his friend’s faces that they were a little bothered by my remark, but I didn’t care.

“Nikki, just thirty more minutes,” Germaine pleaded in a whisper.

“Fine. Find your own damn ride home,” I snarled after snatching the keys off the table next to his Newports and black lighter.

I pushed through the crowd, stomped out of the hall and toward the car pointing and pressing the key to unlock the door.

“Are you okay?”

When I turned to the voice, I revealed a startled look on my face.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. You and Germaine alright?”

It was Hummer.

“That’s none of your fucking business. I told you to leave me alone.” When I opened the driver’s door, he slammed it shut. “What the fuck are you doing?” I stared into his beady eyes. I then glanced at the hall and realized that the distance from the car to the front door was too far to run in the four and a half inch heels I had on. “G…Germaine should be out here any second,” I stuttered.

“Well, until he comes, I think we can find something to do,” Hummer replied as he backed me against the car with his body.

“Get the hell off of me!” I spoke loudly, hoping someone would hear me over the loud music inside. I squeezed the keys inside my right hand and whacked him across the head with them. At that point, Hummer staggered backward and grabbed his head to see if he was bleeding.

“You stupid bitch!” He charged at me forcing my body against the car. I fought with all my might to break free, but he was too strong. “Bitch, I told you that me and Germaine shared.” I turned my face away from him after smelling his alcohol scented breath when he tried to kiss me. “Don’t fight this, bitch,” Hummer continued as he reached under my dress and into my panties. “I feel the heat coming off of this pussy baby. Just the way I like it,” he said, sounding like a horny pervert.

I clenched my thighs together when he tried to force his fingers inside my goodie jar. But before Hummer could win that battle, he was yanked away.

“Nigga, have you have lost your fucking mind!” Germaine barked before shoving Hummer on the ground.

Furious, I ran around Germaine and kicked Hummer in the face as hard as I could then stomped the heel of my shoe in his chest. When he removed his hand from his mouth, I saw that he was bleeding. I went to kick him again, but Germaine grabbed me.

“Hummer, this is some fucked up shit, man and you know it!”

“I thought we were boys, G,” Hummer addressed Germaine when he picked himself up off the ground. “It used to be what was yours was mine and what was mine was yours.”

“Nigga, that was fucking college! This is my wife! You need to get the fuck away from me before I hurt you.” Hummer took heed to Germaine’s threat and walked away with his tail between his legs. “Did he hurt you?” Germaine questioned as he looked me over and caressed my face.

I instantly slapped his hands away. “Is that it?”

“Is what it?”

“He just attacked me and you’re just gonna let his ass go?”

“Nikki, he’s drunk!”

“Drunk or not, he just tried to rape me! Did you not see where he had his hand? In my pussy, Germaine! In my pussy! I did more to him than you did!”

“Look, calm down.”

I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing or hearing.
Was he really gonna let this mofo get away with almost raping me?
He needed to know this was unacceptable.

“I will not calm down. If you hadn’t brought your ass out here that nigga would’ve raped me, Germaine!” I screamed after shifting my weight to one side to let him know that I was really pissed.

“Nikki, he’s drunk. I’m sure he didn’t mean any harm,” Germaine attempted to convince me.

“You’re a fucking idiot! No real man would let that asshole get away with that shit!”

“Let’s just go home and cool down.”

I watched my husband glance back and forth and side to side to see if anyone was witnessing our argument. I knew that causing a scene was making him a bit uncomfortable, but as usual I didn’t care. He needed to know just how uncomfortable I felt. I glared at him with my light brown eyes. If looks could kill, he’d be dead. He pulled his pack of Newports from his back pocket. But before he could slide one out of the pack, I slapped it out of his hand. Immediately, those thick, black eyebrows of his connected and his nose flared.

“So, you wanna hit me over some fucking cigarettes and not that nigga who just tried to rape me?” I taunted.

“Fuck this!” Germaine yelled while throwing his hands up in the air. “The damn man is drunk! Hummer could never hurt a soul!”

“What did you two do in college?” I asked.

“What? What are you talking about?” he asked dumbfounded.

“That asshole, Hummer, told me that you used to
share everything
. What the hell was he talking about?”

When Germaine started scratching his head, I knew that I’d struck a nerve. “It was nothing, Let’s just go home.”

“No. You shared women, didn’t you?”

He sighed. “Listen, it was just once, but the girl was willing. She liked both of us anyway.”

“I knew there was a reason I didn’t wanna come here tonight,” I rolled my eyes at him. “Take me home. Now!”

“Nikki, I’m sorry.”

“Fuck that sorry shit! You don’t have to worry about me attending anymore of these fucking parties.”

I climbed into the passenger seat and waited for him to hop behind the wheel. I then peeped out the corner of my eye and watched him lean against the car and place his face in his hands. It looked as if he was trying to figure out a way to fix things between us. But there was nothing he could do and I think he knew that. “Germaine,” I called out to him as I leaned over and tapped on the window to get his attention, “let’s go.”

The ride home was an exact duplicate of the ride there…quiet. All I could think about was my husband not defending my honor in the way he should have and I knew he was thinking the same.
What would Kingston have done if someone had assaulted me?
I thought
.

As we hopped on I-10, I couldn’t help but notice all of the hotels as we passed by. I wished I was locked behind one of the doors with my lover instead of riding home with my weak ass husband. He was beginning to disgust and annoy me even more and I think he had a clue of this as well.

When we arrived home, I hopped out of the car before he could put it in park then dashed inside the house. Germaine soon followed grabbing me before I could disappear into my hideaway. I yanked away.

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

“Wow! Where’d that come from?”

I gave him a disgusted look. “Where the fuck do you think? You should’ve kicked his ass!”

“What would that have solved, Nikki? Would it have made you feel better if I had gave his ass a busted lip, a black eye or maybe a bloody nose?”

“Yes,” I answered sternly.

“I’m not a violent man and you know that. You shouldn’t expect violence from me.”

“Violence has nothing to do with this situation. What if you hadn’t come outside? What if it had gone further than it did?”

“That’s different.”

“No, it’s not because your weak ass wouldn’t have done anything more than…”

I stopped in mid sentence when I watched Germaine turn into the Incredible Hulk and punch a hole in the wall. “Is that what you want? Is that what you wanted me to do to him? It’s over! You don’t have to worry about him!” he screamed. “I don’t want to talk about this shit anymore! It’s done! It’s over with!” he growled then stepped in my face.

My smart mouth couldn’t produce any words and at that particular moment I don’t think I even wanted to. He brushed past me with an angry, yet hurt look on his face, stomped to the bedroom and slammed the door. As bad as the situation had turned out, I wasn’t gonna spend the rest of my evening worrying about him or his feelings. Instead, I trotted to the kitchen, and poured myself a glass of Moscato. I needed something to relax me after the night’s events.

After walking into the living room and taking a few sips from my glass, I heard the upstairs shower in the master bedroom running. At the same time, I heard my cell phone ringing inside my purse. I glanced at my watch. I knew that it could only be Kingston calling me at one a.m., and luckily Germaine wasn’t around to question me about it. I placed the glass on the coffee table and anxiously dug around in my purse for my phone.

“Hello?” I answered.

“I see you called. What’s going on?” Kingston spoke.

“Tonight was fucked up, Kingston. It was really fucked up,” I breathed and sighed into the phone while tiptoeing to my office downstairs.

“I’m listening.”

I spent the next ten minutes telling him about the night while Germaine obviously took a long ass shower like a bitch.

“Germaine is a weak nigga, Niquole,” Kingston said after he heard the story. “He has no fucking balls. He should’ve got all up in that nigga’s shit.”

His words were so intense and extremely passionate, I hung off of every one of them.

“I know, but it’s over now. I told him that I’m…”

“It’s not over until I say it’s over,” Kingston interrupted before disconnecting the call.

CHAPTER 6

“
I can’t wait ‘til I’m in your arms again and feel your hands all over my skin,”
I sang in the shower while reminiscing about my last performance on stage. I remembered it like it was yesterday although it was nearly six years ago. The Hard Rock Café in New Orleans had sold out all because of me. The first single,
Love Under Me
, and only album,
Things Change
, went gold in less than a week. I was a force to be reckoned with and everyone knew it. However, I was devastated when that spotlight was turned off. Now, singing in the shower was my new stage.
“Your breath against my neck sends chills up and down my spine…”

I stopped singing when Germaine startled me by barging into the bathroom screaming about my vibrating phone. I grabbed one of the thick, green towels from the rack, wrapped it around my wet body and snatched my phone from his hand.

“Why in the fuck are you going through my damn phone?” I demanded while scrolling through it to see the calls and texts that I’d missed.

I swallowed hard when I saw they were all from Kingston. Thankfully, I had given him a nickname.
Mercy.
That was the name of one of the artists I wanted to sign to my label, but he chose to go elsewhere. Little did he know, his name still came in handy.

“I…I didn’t go through your phone,” Germaine stuttered curiously. “Is there a reason I should’ve?”

“I just don’t want you snooping through my things.”

“Again, is there a reason I should? You’re my wife. I’m your husband. We don’t have secrets. Right?”

You may not have any, but I have a slew of them
. “Can you leave me alone so that I can get dressed?”

Germaine gave me an uneasy and unpleasant stare as he walked out of the bathroom. I cursed myself for leaving my phone on the kitchen table in the first place. I was never that careless. After he left, I hurried to the door and locked it. I was eager to talk to Kingston because it had been a week since I last spoke with him. I pressed the number two key on my phone and waited anxiously for him to pick up.

“Why in the hell are you not answering my texts or calls?” Kingston demanded as soon as he answered.

“Well…” I started before he interrupted me.

“There’s a wrecker service on Brittmore Road. Be there within the hour.”

While Kingston was talking, Germaine was yelling something to me through the bathroom door. I ignored him to focus on Kingston’s words instead.

“Wrecker service? Brittmore Road?” I questioned in a low tone. “You’re in Houston? What’s going on?”

“There’s no time for all the questions, Niquole. Get on the road.”

“I don’t know where Brittmore Road is.”

“Don’t you have a GPS in your car? Use it,” he replied before hanging up.

My mind was going a million miles per minute as I wondered why he would possibly need me to meet him at a junkyard. I blushed at the thought of him wanting to try something kinky and different since we hadn’t seen each other in a while. When I finally heard Germaine walk away from the door, I quickly dried off then ran to my room and slipped on a pink velour Juicy jogging suit along with some tennis shoes. After that was done, I raced out of the house without telling Germaine anything. When I made it outside, I realized there was no need to say goodbye because his truck was gone. I also realized that I wasn’t dressed for the weather, but I didn’t have time to run back inside the house and change. At just the end of June, it was hot as hell. Obviously the other summer months were going to be brutal. I hopped in my car, tapped in the directions to the wrecker service on my Navigation system and drove to my destination with the AC on full blast.

****

The forty-five minute drive seemed endless, but I eventually made it to the salvage yard. When I pulled into the gate, I glanced at the hours of operation and saw that the yard was closed on Sunday, so I quickly wondered how and why Kingston wanted to meet at such a strange place. However, I quickly brushed it off. I drove around and through a number of wrecked and crushed cars until I saw three Navigators parked in front of a blue, rusted garage

“What in the hell do you have up your sleeve, Kingston?” I mumbled to myself after pulling on the side of the SUVs. I grabbed my phone from the passenger seat and called him. “Baby, I’m here,” I spoke when he answered. “What’s going on?”

“Come in and see,” he replied before hanging up.

I stepped out of my car and walked toward the doors. I then stopped in my tracks when I saw the dark skinned, burly guy from the hotel in Waco standing outside the door as if he was guarding or protecting what or who was inside. I wanted to know what was going on and why he was there. He nodded at me with a hard, stern look on his face then opened the door for me to go inside. I walked past him slowly, but never took my eyes off of him until I heard my man’s voice.

“Hey,” Kingston addressed me.

“Hey,” I smiled curiously. “What’s going on?” I asked, while glancing around the musty smelling garage. “Wasn’t that the so-called bartender from Homewood Suites?” I asked looking back to find the man.

“Yeah, that’s him.”

“W…What is he doing here?” I stammered, thinking awful thoughts after finding out that the door had been closed behind me.

“Don’t worry about him, Niquole,” Kingston replied. “I’ve got a surprise for you. Why are you wearing that hot ass sweat suit?” he teased then eyed me up and down. “Don’t you know it’s gonna be in the triple digits today and probably the rest of the summer?”

“I was trying to get out of the house as fast as I could. I didn’t have time to…”

“No need to explain,” Kingston interrupted. “I need for you to confirm something for me.”

“Confirm what?” I asked as he led me further inside the grimy garage.

“Is that him?”

“Is who who?” I reiterated.

I turned in the direction he was pointing and gasped when I saw Hummer tied to a chair. When he saw me, his eyes widened in disbelief and shock. He remembered me. I could only imagine what was going through his mind at that moment knowing that what he tried to do to me at the party was the reason he was probably tied up.

“Kingston, what in the hell are you doing?” I gasped.

“Is this the muthafucka, Niquole?”

I stared at Hummer who was trying hard to hold back his frightened tears. His hands were tied behind his back and his mouthed was covered with tape.

“Is that him?” Kingston raised his voice.

I glanced around the garage and saw a few more men standing around waiting for Kingston’s signal to demolish Hummer. Then I glanced back at Kingston and quickly wondered what I had gotten myself into.

“Niquole, is this the nigga?” he asked again. “I know it’s him, but I just need you to confirm.”

“H…How did you find him?” I questioned in disbelief.

“Don’t worry about all of that. Is this the nigga that tried to get at you?” Kingston asked.

I glanced back up at Hummer who was pleading to me with his eyes as he struggled to free himself. If he wasn’t in any pain, he surely looked uncomfortable.

“Baby, I can’t let you do this,” I addressed Kingston.

Kingston smiled. “I’m not gonna kill him, Niquole. Didn’t you want Germaine to beat his ass?”

“Yes, but…”

“Well, I’m gonna do what he didn’t do,” Kingston said as he caressed my cheeks and kissed me on the forehead. “Did you ever wonder why your bitch-ass husband didn’t beat his ass?”

I was too stunned to answer him. Moments later, Kingston nodded at his boys and I knew that was the signal for them to take turns using Hummer as a punching bag. Before they could do so, I ran to Hummer and stood in front of him.

“Kingston, please don’t do this!”

He waved his boys away and walked up to me. He could see the fear on my face and the scared, guilty, apologetic look on Hummer’s. Kingston pulled me into his arms then whispered in my ear, “For you, I won’t let them beat him,” he spoke then kissed my cheek.

“Thank you,” I said and blew a sigh of relief.

“Muthafucka, she just saved you from an ass whooping,” he addressed Hummer.

I couldn’t see Hummer’s face, but I’m sure he released a sigh of relief as well. I wrapped my arms around Kingston to let him know how thankful I was. Although I was pissed at what Hummer did to me, Kingston looked as if he was there to do far more damage than what I expected.

Kingston squeezed me tighter into his chest with his left arm. It felt as if he was showing me sincerity in regards to his decision to not have Hummer mauled, but instead, he showed me something totally different and unexpected. I jumped when I suddenly heard a gunshot.

Kingston placed his left hand on the back of my head and pressed my face to his chest so that I couldn’t turn around and see what he’d done. “I couldn’t let that muthafucka get away with it. I protect mine, Niquole,” he said then kissed me again.

I couldn’t believe that he’d killed a man in my presence. My body began trembling uncontrollably as Kingston quickly walked me out of the garage. I watched as he tossed the gun in his SUV, then escort me to my car as if everything was okay. He unzipped my jacket in an attempt to remove it, but I stopped him.

“What are you doing?” I asked in panic mode.

“You have some blood on your jacket, baby. I’ll get rid of it while I’m getting rid of him.”

I didn’t budge. I wanted him to know that I didn’t want his hands on me…not now anyway. Besides, I was still in a state of shock.

“I…I…I don’t have a…any…thing under here,” I stuttered.

“It’s cool. Just make sure you get rid of it. Damn!” Kingston cursed after noticing a few blood splatters on his burnt orange linen shirt. He removed the shirt before tucking it under his arm. “Trust me, in a few days, you’ll be over this,” he spoke then helped me in my car. “You didn’t see any of it. As far as you’re concerned, it never happened. Now, go to the studio and get yourself together before you go home. I’ve got some cleaning up to do. Don’t look so shocked. I’ve shown and proved to you before that I take care of mine.”

When he spoke those words, any and everything else that clouded my mind disappeared. “What did you say?” I asked, needing confirmation.

His?
I questioned to myself.
What did he mean by that? Was that his way of telling me that he loved me?

“I don’t do shit like this just for anyone, Niquole. Like I told you inside, I protect mine,” Kingston said then blew me a kiss with those LL Cool J lips. “Niquole, get rid of the jacket,” he ordered before walking back inside the garage.

Why am I not calling the cops
? I questioned myself.
Better yet, why am I not crying
?
Even worse than that, why is the shock quickly wearing off of my body?
I knew why. He and I were connected in more ways than one.

As I drove to the studio, my phone rang. I didn’t want to answer it because I was still thinking about what Kingston had just done and said to me. However, whoever was calling was adamant about reaching me because the phone kept ringing. I snatched it off the passenger seat and answered the call.

“Have you lost your fucking mind? I’m happy that I just ran up the street to CVS for my damn cigarettes!” Germaine screamed into the phone nearly bursting my eardrum. “I hope whatever it is you’re doing is fucking important!” he continued.

“I don’t have time for this, Germaine. What are you talking about?”

“You left the damn kids in the fucking house by themselves! John John was screaming to the top his lungs when I got back!”

“Oh my God! I thought you took them with you!” I spoke frantically.

“How in the hell could you have thought that? You didn’t even bother to check! I told you I was running to the store, but I guess you were too busy on the fucking phone to hear that part!”

“You always have them so I didn’t think this time was any different.”

“Well, you thought wrong. Next time check before you jump to conclusions! What kind of fucking mother are you?” Germaine asked.

He hung up. Seconds later, my phone rang again. It was my mother. “What do you want?” I answered.

“Why in the hell did you leave the boys at home by themselves? What in the hell were you doing that made you forget them?”

“None of your fucking business!”

Click.
I turned the phone off. That incident alone was a sure sign that I was in over my head with Kingston