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Authors: Deja King

Tags: #Action & Adventure, #Revenge, #Fiction, #Urban Life, #Suspense Fiction, #African American women

Bitch Reloaded (2 page)

BOOK: Bitch Reloaded
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"I love you, too." I closed my eyes, breathing a sigh of relief that Supreme was alive and well. It was definitely time for me to leave this hospital, because it had my imagination running wild.

The next day, Supreme greeted me with a huge bouquet of flowers and the most adorable pink baby doll dress. My perfect size six frame was down to a zero, so he went and purchased me a new wardrobe to accommodate my drastic drop in weight. I was going to enjoy stuffing my face to gain the pounds back.

"Precious, you look beautiful," Supreme said as I stepped out of the bathroom. With my hair pulled back in a long ponytail, I looked like a black Malibu Barbie.

"Thank you, baby."

"I have something else for you."

My eyes lit up as Supreme pulled out a Jacob the Jeweler box. "What is it?"

"Open the box."

"Damn, this shit is so hot," I said, gazing at the pink diamond heart-shaped necklace.

"Read the back," Supreme said, turning the heart over. The engraving read: S&P Love for Life.

"The moment we get home, the first stop is the bedroom," I whispered in his ear, and then our lips met and our tongues explored each other as if it was the first time. My whole body tingled when Supreme embraced me.

"That's if we make it to the bedroom." Supreme smacked my ass. "Now let me put your necklace on.

"Baby, this so beautiful, I love it."

After Supreme put on my necklace, he put his hands around my waist as he sat down on the hospital bed. He pulled me between his legs and stared into my eyes. "Precious, I love you more than anything in this world. Nothing or no one will ever come between what we share. Whenever you doubt that, just hold on to this necklace and know my heart will forever belong to you."

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm just happy you're mine."

The nurse came in and brought in the wheelchair. Although I was perfectly fine on my feet, it was standard procedure for all patients to be escorted out in that manner. Supreme pushed me down the hallway, and a smile spread across my face knowing I was just a few feet closer to freedom. The automatic doors opened, and Supreme kissed my forehead as the afternoon sun welcomed us. The summer was coming to an end, but it was still slightly hot and not a single cloud was in the sky.

The Suburban was parked right out front with Supreme's bodyguards posted beside it. As my shoes touched the cement, my eyes caught a glimpse of a black van slowly approaching the entrance with its window rolled down. Before I could lock gazes with the passenger, the ringing of a machine gun spraying bullets filled the hot summer air.

"Precious, get down!" Supreme barked as he threw his body on top of mine to cover me. All I heard were the screams of innocent bystanders as the shooter tried to finish me off, not caring what other lives were lost in the process. The shots finally ceased and the van disappeared as quickly as it appeared. Supreme's bodyguards ran toward us with guns drawn, but the attackers were long gone.

"Supreme, are you Okay?" I asked, trying to move from beneath his heavy body. I didn't get an answer. My back and neck felt warm and wet, but it still wasn't registering until I heard the sobs from Supreme's bodyguards.

"Oh shit, they took my man out!" yelled Nathan, Supreme's head of security. Gently, the bodyguards and doctors, who rushed to us once the gunfire stopped, lifted Supreme off of me and laid him face up on the ground.

To my horror, his chest was riddled with bullets. My whole body began shaking as I stood over my husband, unable to speak. A doctor tried to find a pulse but it was too late. Supreme was dead and there was no saving him.

My body buckled. I fell to my knees and balled my fist to the sky. "Damn you, damn you! Why did you take him away from me!" If there was a God, I hoped he heard my cry. I knew I had done a lot of fucked up shit in my life, but I didn't deserve this. I threw myself over Supreme, wanting to feel him one last time. I wanted to breathe life back into him, but he was gone. His blood saturated my dress as I held his face and glided my fingers over his lips and whispered, "Love for Life."

CA"Jf"tal

When I arrived at the estate, I sought refuge in ourbedroom. But instead of bringing any sort of solace, it brought more pain. Supreme had the whole room decorated with flowers and welcome home banners. On the wall above our bed was a painting of us on our wedding day. I had no idea Supreme was going to have that done. The painting was so beautiful that it looked as if we were real and you could reach out and touch us. Our wedding was the happiest day of my life, and today was the saddest.

Entering Supreme's closet, I started to hug and smell his clothes. His intoxicating scent briefly softened the pain eating away at me. I hurled up in the fetal position and cried until no more tears were left.

A few hours later, I was awoken by the pounding on my bedroom door. I pulled myself off the closet floor and walked to the door, still wearing the pink baby doll dress now soaked in Supreme's blood. In my mind I never wanted to take it off, because with it on I felt a part of him was still with me.

"What is it?" I yelled before opening the door.

"Precious, it's me, Nathan. The police are here to speak to you.

"Tell them to come back later."

"They need to speak to you now. Precious, you have to do this for Supreme," Nathan said, sounding choked up. He was right. I didn't like to fuck with the police, but anything to help bring down my husband's killer.

"Okay, tell them I'll be down in a few minutes." I wanted to get myself together before I spoke to the officers. I knew Supreme would want me to be strong. I grasped the diamond heart around my neck, and found strength in that. After changing my clothes and washing my face I went downstairs.

A couple police officers and a few bodyguards were in the dining area of the kitchen, surrounding the plasma television and listening to the news.

"Early this afternoon, superstar rapper, Supreme, born Xavier Mills, was gunned down in front of The Valley Hospital in Ridgewood, New Jersey as he exited the facility with his wife, Precious Mills, who was being released after suffering her own brush with death last month. Doctors pronounced the twenty-four-year-old dead at the scene. Police are still looking for suspects, who witnesses say drove off in a black van with New York license plates."

"Cut that off," I said calmly. Everyone turned around and looked at me with pity in their eyes. The more pity I saw, the straighter I stood. One thing I detested more than weakness was pity, because pity was a sign of seeing weakness in someone else. I never considered myself to be weak and didn't want others to see me that way either.

"Mrs. Mills, I'm sorry for your loss," the pudgy white male detective said as he walked towards me. I just nodded my head in acknowledgement. "Can we go somewhere and talk?"

"Sure, just a moment. Anna, please bring me a Hennessy and coke; I'll be out back," I instructed the maid. "Would you officers like anything?"

"No, we're fine."

I knew I had no business drinking in front of the police, since I was not of the legal age, but I didn't give a fuck. This was my house and my husband was dead. If I wanted to pull out a vial and snort a line of coke it wouldn't be any of their business. Luckily, drugs weren't my thing.

As I sipped my second drink, I caught myself yawning as the officers did more idle talking than revealing any new facts. "So it seems you all are no closer to tracking down Nico Carter," I said, growing increasingly tired of their bullshit.

"We're not a hundred percent sure that Nico Carter is responsible for the death of your husband."

"Excuse me? The motherfucker pumped one in my chest a month ago, leaving me for dead and he came back today to try to finish where he left off. But instead, he killed Supreme. You tryna say there is no connection? Well, I have a hole in my chest that says otherwise."

"We're just saying we need to look at all the facts. There haven't been any sightings of Mr. Carter, and your husband was a very successful rapper. We want to make sure this wasn't a hit from one of his rivals."

"You have to be fuckin' kiddin' me. I know you two yenta-cops ain't tryna turn this into some rap war. Y'all ain't `bout to spin my husband's death into Tupac and Biggie Part 2. This ain't got nothin' to do wit' rap. This is about an ex-boyfriend stuck on revenge, period. Don't be wasting time investigating niggas that ain't got nothin' to do wit' this. Go find Nico Carter, and you'll have your killa."

Just like that, I went from victim and widow to coldblooded bitch from Brooklyn. The lady I spent the last two years trying to become took a back seat to the ride 'til I die bitch that was still in me.

"Thank you for your cooperation, Mrs. Mills." Closing their notepads and rising from their seats, the detectives didn't know how to react. "We will continue to investigate and keep you abreast of any new developments. Once again, we're sorry for your loss."

"Hum hmm, I'm sure you boys can see yourselves out," I said, sitting back in my chair, admiring the landscaping of the acres in our backyard. I looked at the pool, remembering the time Supreme and I went skinny-dipping in the middle of the night. It was the first time I ever had sex under water. I stared at the basketball court where he faithfully played Sunday afternoon games with his friends.

I clasped my hands over my mouth as I went into deep thought. I had to figure out a solution to this problem. There was a trail of dead bodies left behind due to me and Nico, and it had to stop. The only way to make that happen was to finish Nico off once and for all. If only it was as easy as it sounded. I had been away from the streets for so long that I didn't know who was making what moves. But one thing that never changed in this game: Money always talks and the bullshit always walks. I had access to endless amounts of cash and I would use that to get all the information I needed.

I went upstairs and retrieved my cell. I flipped it open and went to contacts. I found my man, Smokey's number and dialed him up.

After four rings he finally answered, "What up?"

"Smokey, what up? This Precious."

"The Precious?"

"Yeah, nigga, what's good?"

"Damn, from what I hear, nuttin' for you."

"I tell you what, why don't you come see me so you can tell me all about it?"

"Where you live?"

"In New Jersey. I know it's a little far for you, but under the circumstances I can't leave my house. But I promise I'll make it worth your while."

"When do you want me to come?"

"Now. This can't wait."

"I'm on my way."

I gave Smokey the address and let the security know to expect him. When I lived in BK, Smoky was a small-time dude who I used to cop weed and my heat from. He also kept his ears to the streets and knew everything that was going on in the hood, for a price, of course. Normally I didn't like to bring my street dealings to where I lay my head, but at this point in time my home was the safest and only place to conduct business.

Wanting to look as relaxed and as in control as possible, I let my hair down and put on some lip gloss and a knee-length white linen shirtdress. When I went back downstairs, Anna had finished preparing the meal I requested. The table was set outside and everyone knew not to disturb me unless they heard me screaming bloody murder. I wasn't too concerned, since Smokey would be tripled-searched before he even gained entrance through the gate, and guards would be posted at every entrance.

"Precious, your guest has arrived," Nathan said as I sat outside.

"Thank you, escort him back here. Also tell Anna she can bring dinner out."

When Nathan brought Smokey out, he still looked the same, except for having put on an extra ten pounds or so. Since he was a lil' nigga an extra ten pounds on him actually looked like twenty. His eyes were still glassy, so I knew he smoked a blunt before he came in. That's where he got the name Smokey from, because the nigga stayed lit up.

"What up, Precious? It's good to see you," he said giving me a hug.

"It's nice to see you too. Have a seat."

"Damn, Ma, you done real good for yourself. Word is bond, you living like straight royalty."

"Except I no longer have my king."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, Precious," Smokey said as he looked down, shaking his head. "That's why I was surprised you called me. That shit just happened today and you already on top of yo' game. I don't know how you holding it together."

"Smokey, that's why I'm in this fucked up position now, because I let shit slip. I took it for granted that other people would make sure Supreme and I would be protected instead of being on top of shit myself. Now my husband is dead and I'm a widow, make that the black widow, `cause I fucked up. I'll never make that mistake again."

"So how can I help?" Smokey asked.

"First, you can tell me what the streets is saying."

"Word is bond, everybody was initially hollering about Nico putting a bullet in you. They couldn't believe that nigga just got out the dusty and came knocking at your door. His lawyer got him off on that Ritchie shit, but he was definitely going down over you. We was like that nigga is slippin', leaving witnesses and shit."

"I don't know if he's slippin' or if he caught a case of bad luck. He definitely didn't expect for me to survive or for Supreme and his bodyguards to show up and ID him. So what else?"

BOOK: Bitch Reloaded
6.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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