Bitch Reloaded (3 page)

"Everybody is wigging out over Supreme's death. That nigga was a legend. He was a young cat, but already dropped like six CD's. The whole hood ready to take Nico out. But they also saying he couldn't have done that shit alone."

"You got any names for me?"

"Nah, this shit just happened not even twelve hours ago. You got to let the dust settle. But I will tell you this, while you were in the hospital, people were saying Nico left the country, that he was in Trinidad, Jamaica, or the Dominican Republic. He was ghost out this bitch, so that's why everybody was buggin' out about Supreme's death. We're trying to figure out when Nico got back or if he ever left."

"Smokey, I want you to get word out on the streets that there's a million dollar hit out for Nico. But I want the body delivered to me, either dead or alive."

Smokey nearly fell out his chair when the words dropped out my mouth. "Did you say a million dollars?"

"That's right."

"Damn, I might have to kill that nigga myself."

"I don't care who does it, but I want it done. Or they can bring Nico to me, nice and bound and I can finish him off. How it's done is irrelevant to me, as long as Nico is dealt with." I pulled out an envelope containing twenty-five thousand dollars and handed it to Smokey.

"What's this for?" he asked, not knowing what was inside.

"It's a little something for your time. I want to make sure my message reaches the streets ASAP. Also, keep me informed of any new information that comes your way. Now let's eat." Long after Smokey left, I lay across our bed starring at the painting of me and Supreme. We were so happy and in love. Our life together was just beginning and in an instant it was over. Here I was living in a fourteen million dollar Jersey mansion, far away from the gritty streets of Brooklyn, and I still wasn't safe. The streets had followed me home or maybe I was the streets, and there was no escaping them.

anv

It took all my strength to get out of bed the next morning. I had been making Supreme's funeral arrangements and finally, was D-Day. Supreme wasn't even six feet deep yet and attorneys, family members and all sorts of other motherfuckers were coming out the woodworks. See, Supreme didn't leave a will, and since I was his wife, everything was coming to me. I knew he would want to make sure his parents were financially straight, so I had no problem lacing their pockets. But then bitches were stepping to me with kids in all shades, sizes and ages saying they were Supreme's. One chick even managed to get my cell number.

When she called I said, "Listen here, if that's Supreme's seed then he'll be taken care of, no question. But see I don't do DNA tests. So get your blood work together and call my attorney. If your shit is legit then he'll make all the financial arrangements for your little one. But on the real, don't call me no more, cause, I'm not interested in knowing you or your kid."

I don't know if hood rats think that DNA test can't be done on the deceased but they were coming at me hard. But I shut all that shit down. I'm not saying Supreme was a saint but he didn't strike me as the type of dude that wouldn't claim what was his. These trick-ass bitches weren't stepping to me when he was alive, but now they wanted to degrade his name in death. Not on my watch.

I stood in front of the full length mirror scrutinizing myself in the black St. John suit and black crocodile Jimmy Choo pumps. That bid in the hospital really did my body in. My ass only had a slight curve unlike its normal round bump. I couldn't stress it, after a few more weeks of Anna's cooking I would be back on point.

"Precious, the car is waiting for you," Nathan said through the door.

"Okay, I'll be there shortly." I grabbed my black hat with the sheer veil. I pinned it in right above the tight bun in my hair. I held my necklace firmly and said, "Supreme, please give me the strength to get through today."

When I got downstairs, the bulletproof limo was waiting for me and two bulletproof trucks were in front and in back of me. Security was of the most importance because I didn't want another assassination on my life, especially on the same day I was burying my husband. The promise of seeing Nico die was giving me the strength I needed to get through this. In fact, that was the only reason I had to live.

"Nathan, did you make sure Supreme's parents had bodyguards with them?"

"Yes, I sent Andre and Paul to escort them."

"Good, and the security is extra tight at the church?"

"Yes, we have our own security and Atomic Records has also provided extra protection. The police are also going to be out. They want to make sure it doesn't get out of hand."

We headed towards Queens for the funeral. His parents wanted to have the service at the church Supreme was baptized in. It was only right especially since that was where he was from. When we pulled up to the church it was like reliving the chaos of Biggie's funeral. I remember how Brooklyn was shut down that day with all his fans coming out to show love. At first I wanted a private ceremony, but I knew his fans loved him almost as much as I did. The news crews swarmed me when I stepped out the car.

"Precious Mills, how do you feel about the death of your husband?" One dizzy-ass reporter asked me.

"Yo, Nathan, get these cameras out my face," I screamed about to punch the bitch in her mouth.

"Everybody out the way," Nathan belted using all 250 pounds of muscle to move the crowd.

When I entered the church, it looked like a hip hop industry convention. Every black rapper, actor, athlete and sprinkles of white associates filled the benches. As I walked towards the front, all eyes were on me. The glares made me hot and I held on to Nathan so I wouldn't pass out. I sat down next to his parents and his mother was already crying a river. This is going to be a long memorial service I thought to myself.

After the reverend spoke, Supreme's father went to speak, but had to be carried down when he fell out at the podium. I already made it clear that I wasn't standing up there and saying anything, so a few of Supreme's friends and colleagues stood up for him. One of the hardest parts for me was not being able to see his face lying in the coffin. Because of the injuries he sustained his parents and I agreed that Supreme should have a closed coffin. We wanted the world to remember him for how he looked when he was alive, not in death

"I'm so sorry for your lost," I heard a familiar male voice say from behind me. When I turned around to see his face I was disgusted.

"What are you doing here?" I said, with venom in my voice. I couldn't believe that Pretty Boy Mike had the nerves to show his face at Supreme's funeral. True to form he still had the most perfect, unblemished caramel skin I had ever seen on a man and most women. With his silky jet black hair and long eye lashes you could easily forget how wicked he was.

"Precious, I came to pay my respects. Like everyone else here, I had a lot of admiration for Supreme," Mike said calmly.

"How dare you!" I whispered, not trying to make a scene in the church. "Mike, because of you, Rhonda is dead, my unborn child died, and I almost died. Now, you standing here giving me your condolences when your boy Nico is the reason why Supreme is in that coffin. I don't want your respect or admiration."

"Precious, I know how upset you are, and you have every right to be. But I didn't know Nico was going to kill Rhonda or try to kill you. When he got out, he said all he wanted was to talk to you and find out why you turned on him. He said he finally forgave you and only wanted to wish you the best. Nico mislead me and when I found out about what happened to you and Rhonda I was shocked."

"You're so full of shit. But this isn't the place to discuss this," I said but before I could complete my thought, we were interrupted.

"I'm sorry to interrupt but hello, Precious." I stared at the tall reddish-skinned man. His eyes told a familiar story but I couldn't place them. I didn't know how I could forget a face so handsome but I kept drawing a blank.

"Hi, do I know you?" I said still trying to place his face.

"Actually you do. But first I wanted to give you my condolences."

"Thank you. Did you know Supreme well?"

"Actually I only met him a few times when I would intern at Atomic Records in the summer. But he was always humble and down-to-earth when he spoke to me. He was a very talented man."

"Yes he was, but you still haven't told me your name."

"Jamal."

"Jamal Crawford?" I asked in shock. I hadn't seen Jamal in five years. We grew up in the projects of Brooklyn together. But Jamal was always different. He was a bonafide genius. He was also the boy I lost my virginity to.

"Yep, that Jamal," he said with a smile.

"What are you doing here? I didn't know you interned at Atomic Records." Seeing an old friend brought a ray of light to an otherwise dim day.

"How would you? One day you just moved away."

"Aren't you the new president of Atomic Records?" Mike asked, trying to squeeze in the conversation.

"That's me, and you are?" Jamal asked, extending his hand towards Mike.

"Pretty Boy Mike, the owner of Pristine Records."

"That's right. I've heard a lot of positive things about you. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise. I had no idea you were so young. How old are you, nineteen?" Mike said sizing Jamal up.

"Actually, I just celebrated my birthday my twenty-first birthday last week," Jamal said, laughing off Mike's dis.

"Wow. You're the president of Atomic Records?" I asked. Jamal was a few months older than me. I couldn't believe that the geeky nerd I used to look at sideways was now running one of the top hip hop labels in the world. Then again, who would've thought I'd be married, better yet alive, at my age.

"Yes I am. After I graduated high school at sixteen," Jamal cut his eyes over at Mike, "I attended Harvard Business School. Each summer and winter break, I interned at Atomic Records. During my last semester the president offered me a job as his apprentice. Then, when he got a more lucrative offer from another label, Atomic's owners asked me to take over. At first everyone was a little reluctant because of my age, but my work ethics speak for itself."

"I'm not surprised. Congratulations."

"Thank you, Precious. I know you're overwhelmed right now, but in the near future I wanted to sit down and discuss some business regarding Supreme with you. Here's my card. Call me when you feel up to it."

"I will. It was so nice to see you again, Jamal, and thank you for showing your respect for Supreme."

"Of course, it was nice to see you too," Jamal said before he walked away.

"Seems you have some history with the new president of Atomic Records," Mike said, obviously fishing for information.

"You still haven't excused yourself?" I questioned, wondering what it would take to get Mike out of my space.

"Precious, don't be like that. I care a great deal about you and I want to make sure you're okay."

"You don't even know me and I don't want you to. You're a snake, Mike. Stay away from me."

The whole ride home all I thought about was Jamal. I kept reading his business card over and over again. I knew Jamal would be successful in life and have a great career making a lot of money, but the music business was the last place I thought it would be. He seemed too uptight to be around a bunch of grimy rappers.

He had changed so much. The bifocals were history and his once scrawny body was now well defined with lean muscles. I was looking forward to calling him because I needed to talk to someone from my past. Jamal would understand who Precious Cummings from the projects, not the widow of superstar Supreme, really was.

(YTMfi'.~ 4 r

The sound of my cell phone ringing woke me up at eightthirty a.m. "Hello," I answered with my eyes still closed.

"Yo, Precious I got some info for you." I recognized Smokey's voice and tried to shake myself to wake up.

"What's up?"

"Can you meet me in an hour?"

"Say what you gotta say?"

"I don't wanna talk on the phone. This some shit we need to discuss face to face."

"Nico business?"

"No doubt, so can you meet me?"

"Where at?"

"Harlem, at the soul food spot M&G."

"Night, give me two hours." It had been a few weeks since I put the hit out on Nico, and I was glad Smokey finally had some information for me.

While taking a shower I debated whether I wanted to bring Nathan and one of my other bodyguards. I knew I needed the protection, but at the same time I didn't want them asking questions about my dealings with Smokey. No matter what, I was definitely carrying my heat because there was no telling what was waiting for me in New York.

"Good morning, fellas. I have to run an errand this mornmg.

"I'll pull the car around," Nathan said.

"Actually, I'll be going alone."

"I don't think that's wise, Precious," he barked.

"Calm down, I got this. If there seems to be a problem you'll be the first person I'll call. But I'm good. I got my girl wit me." I jumped in the Range because all the other cars were a little too flashy.

When I crossed the George Washington Bridge and hit the Hudson Parkway, I was becoming more anxious, wondering what information Smokey had regarding Nico.