The Trophy Wife (15 page)

“Whatever . . . but she talking on speaker.” Lynch flipped out his phone and dialed Hova's number. He knelt down and grabbed London by the hair as he put the phone up to her lips.

Hova answered, “I hope you're calling me to tell me that my problem is taken care of,” making it obvious that he'd checked the caller ID.

“Jake?” London stated with fear in her voice. “Jake, baby, what are you doing? I wasn't leaving. I just needed some time to clear my head. Please stop this,” she begged.

“London, London, London, you disobeyed me.”

“I didn't, Jake. I was going to come back. I just needed time to get my head together. You know that I love you. I would never leave you,” she lied. “I took a vow to love you forever. You know our marriage means everything to me.”

He could hear the desperation in her voice, and a smile spread across his face. He was amused with her Oscar-worthy attempt to get him to change his mind. “Vows? I must have missed the part where you vowed to be a lying bitch. Or the part where you vowed to have an affair.”

Tears flooded London's eyes as she slowly came to the realization of what this was really about.
Oh my God, he knows about Kalil,
she thought to herself.

Hova asked, “Did you enjoy fucking Kalil?”

“Jake, please . . . don't do this,” she whispered. She knew that her husband was a cold man and that there was no way he was going to let her live after her betrayal.

After a long silence on the line, Jake finally said to his disciples, “Finish the job. Till death do us part,” he stated mockingly before hanging up the phone.

“You heard what he said. Get the fuck up.” Lynch pulled London to her feet. He licked his lips as he looked her up and down. Her nipples were hard from the cold chill that had taken over her body. “I'm gon' bless you with this dick before you die,” he whispered as he openly lusted for her.

London jerked away from him. “Don't touch me.”

Lynch smacked her across the face with his gun, causing a deep gash to appear on her cheek, and blood flowed freely onto the hotel floor.

“Ms. London!” Jada cried.

Lynch called out to Peanut, “Keep that brat quiet before I shut her up myself.”

“Jada, it's okay, sweetheart. Everything's going to be okay.” London looked the little girl directly in her eyes and she could see the fear in Jada's pupils. She wanted nothing more than to keep Kalil's daughter safe. “Why don't you let her go? I'll come with you. Just leave her alone. She has nothing to do with this.”

Lynch pulled London out of the hotel room and Peanut pulled Jada and followed closely behind. Lynch whispered in London's ears as he led her through the hotel lobby and out the door, “If you say one word, my man is gon' murder the little girl.”

He hit the button on his keys to pop the trunk and then forcefully stuffed London inside.

“Wait,” she protested.

Her cries were ignored as they folded Jada up and stuffed her in next to London. They slammed the trunk, leaving London and Jada in the dark, cramped space.

“I want my daddy,” Jada whispered.

From the sound of her voice, London could tell that she was crying. “Me too, sweetheart, me too,” she said as she held on to Jada's hand tightly and closed her eyes. She prayed to God that this was a bad dream and that, when she opened her eyes, everything would be okay.

Kalil watched the television and couldn't believe his eyes. June was on CNN, driving like a madman, trying to elude the cops. He watched as the white Lexus maneuvered in and out of lanes going at least 120 miles per hour. The sight of June's car made Kalil's jaws clench and fist ball up. Just hours earlier, he was looking down the barrel of June's gun, thinking his life was about to come to an end.

“Yo, Quinn, look at this shit!” Kalil yelled, his eyes glued to the fiasco. Kalil began to think about how he could have been in right alongside June in the high-speed chase. Thinking about it, he was sort of glad that June pulled that stunt. If he hadn't tried to kill Kalil, he would've been in the car with him.

Quinn entered the living room and saw the chase happening live and in living color. “Is that—”

Kalil cut Quinn off mid-sentence. “Yeah, that's that bitch-ass nigga.”

They just stared at the television set and watched the drama unfold. June's Lexus caught a flat and began to fishtail, causing the vehicle to lose all control. The helicopter caught the whole chase from a bird's-eye view.

Just before June could gain control of the car, the inevitable happened and the chase was over. His car crashed into the back of a semitruck, causing him to spin around wildly, forcefully slamming his car into the guardrails alongside the highway.

The car instantly burst into gigantic flames, sending debris flying everywhere. The wild accident caused a domino effect, and cars began to spin crazily, causing a massive pileup. It was complete pandemonium unfolding live on CNN.

“Damn!” Quinn yelled as he watched it as if it was a high-packed action movie.

Almost instantly, Kalil and Quinn began to smile. It was sort of a guilty pleasure to see that June's karma had caught up with him so quickly.

“Karma's a bitch.” Kalil turned off the TV and began to rub his bandaged chest. The spots where the gunshots hit were badly bruised and sore. But Kalil would take the bruises over holes anyway. “Yo, Quinn, if you didn't put the doubt in my head, I would be dead right now.” Kalil thought about how he'd vested up just before the setup.

“I knew something was funny about the nigga. I just had a gut feeling. That's why I followed you there.” Quinn slapped hands with his cousin.

“That's one less thing I have to worry about now. He should be glad I didn't catch up with him. I had something for him.” Kalil sat on the couch and thought about his next task—telling Hova he had nothing for him. “Man, I owe Hova dope or money, and I have neither.”

“What you going to do?” Quinn asked, ready for whatever.

“I'm going to see him.”

 

 

Hova sat at his office desk that overlooked Club Heaven and smoked his Cuban cigar. His insides were boiling, thinking about his wife cheating with another man. What made him even more enraged was the fact that he knew her lover.

“I'm going to make that motherfucker pay. Both of them! I'm Hova, the be-all and end-all. I'm the god of this city. Who runs this? Me, that's who!” He slammed his fist into his desk. His usually pale white face was now bloodshot red. He ran his fingers through his short blond hair and aggressively pulled off his white Armani blazer, exposing his muscular physique.

A few of Hova's disciples watched as he grew angrier by the second. They knew how bad his temper was, so they remained silent and let him vent his frustrations. Hova had already put a hit on London and was eagerly awaiting the phone call to confirm her death. He had other plans for Kalil. He wanted to handle him personally. His manhood wouldn't allow Kalil to get away with having his wife behind his back.

Hova put out his cigar and ran his fingers through his hair, trying to regain his composure. The sound of his phone ringing filled the air.

“Speak!” Hova said as he picked up the phone. He got the information from the other end of the phone and smiled as he was receiving the news. Lynch and Peanut had London in their custody. Hova smiled as Lynch told him that they had a bonus: Jada, Kalil's daughter.

“Wait until I give the word and then do them both!” Hova didn't ask how old the child was before giving the order, and he didn't really care. He just wanted Kalil and London to suffer severely for the adulterous acts they had committed against him. His obsession with being “Hova the God” showed as he coldheartedly ordered the death of London and Jada.

 

 

Quinn looked over at Kalil in the passenger seat. “Are you sure you don't want me to go in there with you?”

Kalil held his aching chest and grimaced. “Nah, I'm good. I don't want to get you wrapped up in all of this shit. I have to handle this situation on my own.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I'm good. If anything happens to me, just make sure Jada is all right,” Kalil said as he opened the door.

“Fuck that! If you're not out in ten minutes, I'm coming in blasting, son.” Quinn cocked his pistol and looked at his cousin.

Kalil reached in his cousin's car and slapped hands with him, realizing that he had a real comrade on his team. Then he walked up to the club, preparing to confront Hova.

Peanut's conscience came into play as he heard the muffled cries of the woman and child who rode in the trunk. He looked over at Lynch and got sick to the stomach at the fact that Lynch had no remorse for what was about to go down.

Lynch puffed on a blunt as he bobbed his head to the music. He turned up the stereo to drown out the kicks and screams of Jada and London.

Peanut shook his head from side to side with guilt as he thought about his role in the whole matter. “This shit ain't right, man.” Peanut continued to shake his head.

“Look, man, I don't need you bitchin' up on me right now, Nut. Hova gave us a job to do, and I'm going to do it.”

“This shit ain't right, Lynch. That's a kid back there, fam!” Peanut grew a disgusted look on his face.

They pulled up to the abandoned house that Hova owned and hopped out the car. Peanut was the first to get to the trunk. He took a deep breath and hit the trunk button, causing it to pop open. When he saw London and Jada tied up with duct tape over their mouths, he instantly become overridden with guilt.

Before he could even say anything, Lynch came over and forcefully snatched London out of the trunk and dragged her to the back-door entrance.

“Grab the kid!” he yelled, as he struggled with a kicking and squirming London.

Peanut reached for Jada, who jumped at his touch. He saw the fear in the young girl's teary eyes. He carefully picked her up and assured her, “I'm not going to hurt you.” It hurt his heart, knowing that he would eventually have to kill her.

 

 

Kalil walked into the empty club and took a glance around. The club was a totally different scene in the daytime. He saw Hova's top-floor office and knew that he was playing with fire by coming back empty-handed. He was willing to get Hova's money back for him. He just needed some time to get back in the streets and make some moves. Kalil made his way up the stairs and to Hova's office door.

 

 

Hova yelled on his cell phone, “What the fuck do you mean? Those motherfuckers are going to pay. No Italians are going to muscle me. I'm Hova!”

The Italians and Hova had been in a turf war for a few months, and they'd given him an ultimatum: Give them a cut of the drug profit or “vest up.”

He hung up the phone angrily. He wasn't worried about the Italians attempting to strong-arm him. He had other things on his mind, like making Kalil and London suffer.

One of the disciples said to Hova, “Hov, what do you wanna do about the Italians? If we move on them now, they're going to expect it.”

Hova decided that he'd fall back to avoid walking into a trap. “We're going to lay low for a while, rock 'em to sleep, and then I'm going to bring the heat to those slick-haired bastards.” Hova's reputation for retaliation was infamous, and he knew that if he sent any of his soldiers over to the Italians, he would only be sending them into a death trap. The Italians wanted a war and were waiting on him to make a move.

 

 

Tears streamed down London's face as she looked over at Jada, who had cried herself to sleep. London frantically looked around the damp basement they were in, and the smell of mildew and dampness nearly made her gag. Duct tape covered Jada's mouth, and her hands were tied as she slumped against the wall with dried-up tear stains on her cheek.

London squirmed, trying to free herself, but it was no use. The ropes were tightly knotted and there was no escaping. She knew that Lynch was Hova's head hit man and that he had no respect for human life whatsoever. Hova had told London stories about Lynch's murder game and how he just didn't give a fuck.

London began to regret creeping with Kalil at this point. She not only put her life at jeopardy, but now a little girl was in the midst of the chaos. London cried a river while the anticipation built. She knew that the men were just waiting on a call for Hova to end their lives.
Please, God, please spare Jada's life. She doesn't deserve this, she doesn't,
London thought to herself while guilt overwhelmed her.

At that moment, she heard the wooden stairs creaking. Someone was coming down. A man's silhouette appeared and the smell of his strong cologne filled the room. London scooted to the corner where Jada was and tried to shield her body. At this point, her only thought was to protect Jada. She saw that the man was Lynch and the fear factor set in. The look in his eyes was that of a madman, and London knew that her life was on a countdown.

Lynch slowly walked over to London with more than murder on his mind. He always envied Hova for having such a beautiful wife. He couldn't see how a white man got such a gorgeous woman as London. Every time he would see her, he would dream about how good sex with her would be. He was finally about to make his dreams come true.

Lynch just stared at her awkwardly, a devilish grin plastered on his face. London noticed the bulge growing in his Sean Jean sweatpants as he approached.

“London, you one bad bitch! Why do you fuck wit' that arrogant-ass white boy? I know he lacking what I'm packing.” Lynch grabbed his erect rod and began to stroke it. The pure beauty of London had him mesmerized, and he envisioned himself stroking her from the back. The closer he got to London, the harder his manhood became.

 

 

Kalil took a deep breath—not out of fear, but out of frustration—before knocking on Hova's door. He was ready to leave the game alone, but June's backstabbing set him back in his plans. He knew to repay Hova the money he would have to become the Kalil of the old. The hustler.

Knock, knock, knock!
He lightly tapped the door as he rubbed his sore chest and waited for a response.

One of the disciples answered the door, and when he saw Kalil's face it was as if he saw a ghost. The disciple just stood there, not knowing what to say. Hova was just talking about what was going to happen when he found Kalil and there he was in the flesh.
This mu'fucka got balls.

“What the fuck is yo' problem? Are you going to let me in or just stand there?” Kalil looked the man up and down. He had a rough day and wasn't trying to fuck around.

The disciple didn't say anything. He just smiled and stepped to the side to feed Kalil to the dogs.

Kalil stepped past the man and saw the back of Hova's oversized leather chair.

Hova's back was turned toward Kalil as he stared out of his glass window that overlooked the club. The smoke from his Cuban cigar danced into the air, letting Kalil know Hova was sitting there.

Kalil felt the tension in the room as everyone ceased the conversation when he entered. There were about three disciples scattered throughout the oversized luxury office. Kalil grew suspicious and began to study his surroundings.
Do they already know that I don't have the money? Everybody in this joint ice-grilling me and shit. These mu'fuckas gon' fuck around and get fucked up today. What the fuck is the problem, yo!
Kalil frowned up his face. He was fearless and returned every cold stare as he made his way to the front of Hova's desk. He cleared his throat in an attempt to grab Hova's attention.

Hova took his time in responding. Moments later he swung his chair around so that he was facing Kalil. “Kalil, one of my most trusted associates,” he said sarcastically. He took a deep pull of his cigar. “I've been waiting to see you. You're back a lot sooner than I expected.” Hova was boiling inside, and it took all of the willpower he could muster to prevent him from reaching in his desk and filling Kalil's body with bullets.