Wifey 4 Life (15 page)

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Authors: Kiki Swinson

Tags: #Fiction, #Fiction - General, #Literature & Fiction, #African American - Urban Life, #Genre fiction, #cookie429, #Kat, #Extratorrents

BOOK: Wifey 4 Life
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I didn’t know whether I should run or just faint, because he
startled the hell out of me. When I looked up and saw that he seemed genuinely concerned,
a tear rolled down my face.

He stepped out of the car and immediately removed the duct tape
from my mouth. It was a fucking relief to be able to move my mouth again. Without
even asking me, he stuck his head back into the car, grabbed a box cutter from the
glove compartment, and cut the rope off my wrists.

“Come on, take a seat in the car,” he told me.

I was somewhat hesitant at first, but I figured since he’d untied
me and took off the duct tape, he couldn’t possibly want to hurt me. So I sat down
in the backseat with the car door still ajar and my legs stretched out, letting
my feet touch the ground. He stood in front of me and started asking me a thousand
questions. My head was spinning, and I didn’t know if I was coming or going. But
something inside me told me that I was safe, and that it was OK to talk.

The guy asked me my name, who I was running from, and why they
had me tied up. While I gathered my thoughts, I looked at him from head to toe.
He was indeed a big guy, but he seemed like he was nice. He was light-skinned with
long sideburns that connected to his beard. I figured he couldn’t be older than
thirty-five. When he smiled at me and told me that I was all right, and that no
one else was going to hurt me, I believed him.

“Are you gonna tell me your name?” he asked again.

I took a deep breath and told him my name was Kira. When he realized
I was beginning to open up to him, he stooped down in front of me and told me his
name was Jamon, but everybody called him Fro. I tried to smile back at him, but
I couldn’t. Every joint in my body ached, and I felt like I was about to fall apart.

“Are you gonna tell me who you were running from?”

“I know this might sound crazy, but I was running from my uncle
because he was trying to kill me.”

“Nah, shorty, that shit don’t sound crazy at all! I hear about
that shit happening every day in my world.”

“Well, I’ve never heard of or seen that type of shit before.
That’s why I’m kind of fucked-up in the head right now.”

“Do you mind if I ask you why he was trying to kill you?”

“He thinks I know or had something to do with his daughter getting
killed.”

Fro looked at me with uncertainty. “Well, did you?”

“Of course, I didn’t.”

“Where is he now?”

“I’m not sure.”

“So how did you get away?”

“It’s a long story. And I don’t feel like going back over it.”
I buried my face in my hands.

“So whatcha gon’ do? I mean, do you live around here somewhere?”

“No. I don’t live in VA anymore.”

“Do you have other family or a homegirl that lives around here?”

“No.”

“Well, do you wanna call the police?”

“Call them and say what?” Tears started falling from my eyes.
“After all that shit I went through today, going to the police and having them arrest
those motherfuckers wouldn’t be enough for me. I wanna see every last one of those
bastards go through some pain like I did.”

“Well, damn! How many of them was it?”

“It was four of them at the house, but one of them, I could tell,
really didn’t want to take part in all that shit. So it’s really three of them”
I paused to collect my thoughts. “Oh yeah, I can’t forget the motherfucker who set
me up. He needs to get it too.”

I waited for Fro to comment, but he just stood there in silence.
I looked at him. “What’s wrong? What? You ran out of questions?”

He gave me a half-smile. “Nah, I’m just standing here bugging
out, trying to figure out how you should really handle this situation. I mean, it’s
just you. And you going up against four people ain’t a good idea, especially since
you ain’t got no burner.”

“Can you get me one?”

He chuckled. “Yo, Kira, you are really tripping right now. I
think you need to sit back and analyze your situation before you fuck around and
get into some shit you ain’t gon’ be able to get out of. I mean, it’s a dog-eat-dog
world out here, and niggas damn sure ain’t playing fair.”

“Look, Fro, I understand everything you’re saying, but I have
been sexually assaulted with a fucking beer bottle. I’ve got two knots in the back
of my head from being hit with a heavy metal object. I’ve been punched in the face
at least five times. And I was choked so badly, I almost lost consciousness.”

Fro threw up his hands. “Damn, shorty, my bad. I didn’t know
it was like that.”

“You telling me you don’t see these fucking cuts and bruises
on my face?”

“I saw ’em when you first came up to the car, but I thought maybe
your man beat you up.”

“Nah, this shit ain’t come from no man of mine. This shit came
from some cowards, and I’m going to make sure they pay for all the shit they took
me through.” I then began to cry uncontrollably.

Fro reached back inside the glove compartment, but this time
he grabbed a handful of McDonald’s napkins and handed them to me.

I wiped my eyes, but the tears kept falling. I had prayed to
God to get me out of that situation, and He did. But somehow it felt like I was
still there. I wasn’t there physically, but I was still there mentally, so my captors
still had the control.

“Yo, Kira, it’s gonna be a’ight.”

“I know it is,” I told him as I continued to wipe the tears from
my face.

While Fro and I tried to figure out what my next step would be,
this tall, brown-skinned cat with a bunch of flashy jewelry walked up to us.

Fro immediately introduced him to me. “Eh, yo, Kira, this is
my homeboy, Jay One.”

Jay One leaned toward me and extended his hand. “Nice to meet
you,” he said.

I extended my head and nodded. Without asking my permission,
Fro immediately brought Jay One up to speed about how I’d stumbled across him
and why I looked so messed up. As Fro reiterated everything I’d told him, I could
see sadness overtake Jay One.

Jay One looked down at me. “Damn! You went through all that?”

I didn’t respond. I just looked at him and continued to wipe
the tears from my face.

He looked back at Fro. “So, where she live at?”

“She said she used to live here, but now she lives out of town.”

“Does she have any more family around here?”

“She said she didn’t.”

“So why is she here?” Jay One looked at me and back at Fro.

“I flew here from Houston because my cousin’s funeral was earlier
today.”

“What was your cousin’s name?” Jay One asked.

“Nikki.”

He thought for a second. “Oh, nah, I don’t know her.”

“She got shot in Houston, so my uncle had her body shipped back
here so he could bury her.”

“How old was she?” Jay One asked.

“She was twenty-five.”

Fro blurted out, “Damn! She was young as hell!”

“Yeah, she sho was,” Jay One said.

Hearing both of the guys comment on how young Nikki was made
me think about how soon her life was cut short. This was the first time I’d looked
at it like that. I figured my uncle probably saw it that way as well. But she was
a backstabber, a chick who couldn’t be trusted. And when that cat she was fucking
with named Bintu’ saw that, he felt the need to eliminate her. So it wasn’t my doing.
Sadly I knew even if I had a chance to explain that to my uncle, he still wouldn’t
have believed me. End of story.

My train of thought was interrupted when Fro asked me if there
was anywhere I needed him to take me. I thought about telling them to drop me off
at my hotel, but something told me that going back there wouldn’t be a good idea,
because either Tony or my uncle would probably come there looking for me. I needed
to go to another hotel, but first I needed to get my rental car.

I told Fro, “I need to get my rental car.”

“Where is it?” Fro asked.

“I left it parked outside of the guy’s house who set me up.”

Fro and Jay One looked at each other then at me.

Fro said, “Yo, shorty, you might wanna leave that joint where
it is.”

“Yeah, he’s right ’cause if homeboy knows that you got away from ol’ dude, then they’re probably waiting in the cut for you to
show up.”

“So what do you think I should do?” I asked, looking at both of them.
Fro shrugged, and Jay One pretty much did the same thing, remaining silent.

I sighed heavily. “Well, can one of y’all at least help me get
a burner?”

Jay One looked at Fro. “Yo, cuz, you gon’ have to help her with
that one.”

“Yo, shorty, do you even know how to handle a burner?”

“Of course.”

“How much dough you got?” Fro asked.

“How much is it going to cost me?”

“It all depends on what you want.”

“Can you get me a thirty-eight?”

Fro thought for a moment. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“For how much?”

“Give me two big faces, and it’s yours.”

“What’s big faces?” I asked. This was new VA slang, I guess.

Fro smiled. “Hundred-dollar bills, shorty.”

“Oh, OK. I can swing that. But the gun ain’t gonna be dirty,
is it?”

“What do you care? You gon’ use it and get rid of it anyway,
right?”

“Yes, but I just don’t want to be walking around with a gun with
bodies on it.”

“Yo, Kira, it ain’t too many burners ’round here that ain’t got
a body on them,” Fro said. “And if you find one, believe me, that joint gon’ run
you anywhere between five to eight hundred.”

“Yeah, he ain’t lying ’bout that, shorty.”

“All right. I really don’t care. Just get me something now. I’m
running out of time.”

“A’ight, let’s get it then.” Fro hopped back into the passenger
seat. Jay One got in on the driver’s side, and after Fro told him where to drive,
he put the car in gear, and we were off. I got him to stop by an ATM machine, so
I could get the cash for the gun.

I knew the Tidewater area like the back of my hand. When Jay
One traveled down Virginia Beach Boulevard, made a left onto Tidewater Drive, a
right onto Princess Anne Road, and then an immediate left onto Reservoir Avenue,
I knew he was going to Walt’s place.

Walt was an old-timer who had lived on Reservoir Avenue forever.
Everybody around town knew this cat, and anyone who needed a burner came to him.
He had new pistols and used pistols. I knew he made a killing off burners. I remember
hearing Ricky tell me one day that Walt had to be worth at least a couple million,
and yet he lived in an old-ass house and drove an old 1995 Lincoln Continental.
As long as I’d known Walt, he was never flashy, which was why I believed he had
longevity on these streets. I knew seeing me again was going to blow his mind.

After we pulled up to Walt’s house, Fro hopped out and asked
me to hand him my money. Before I handed it to him, I asked him if we were at Mr.
Walt’s house.

Fro looked at me, clearly puzzled. “How the fuck you know Walt?”

“Well, if this is the same guy, I’ve known him since I was a
little girl. My mother used to fuck with him back in the day.”

“Damn, if this ain’t a small-ass world!” Fro said.

I gave him a half-smile. “Tell me about it.”

“What’s your mama’s name?” Fro asked. “I might remember her.”

“Nah, you ain’t gonna remember her. She’s been deceased now for
about twelve years. And, besides, when she was fucking with Mr. Walt, I think I
was about ten years old. I used to call him Poppa Walt. And when he and my mother
broke up, I didn’t see him again until after my mother passed away.”

“Well, since you already know him, let’s go.” Fro pulled on the
door handle to let me out.

I got out of the truck. I had mixed feelings about seeing Walt.
It had been a few years since I’d last seen him. I had introduced him to Ricky,
and they’d done a little business together. While Walt supplied Ricky with the arsenal
he needed, Ricky, in turn, greased Walt’s palms. I knew Walt made at least ten grand
from this deal with Ricky. But what I didn’t know was whether Walt knew about our
fed case. And, if he did, was he aware that I’d testified against Ricky and the
rest of his crew? If he was, that wouldn’t be a good look at all.

I’d known this man half of my life, so I knew he hated snitches.
The reason why he survived on these streets and had longevity was because he stuck
to a very important street code, meaning, he only fucked with legit people. Cats
had to bring references with them when they needed something from Walt. At least
four to five people had to vouch for his buyers before he did any business with
them. He was a very thorough cat, and nothing got past him.

Fro walked ahead of me and went straight to Walt’s back door.
All the lights were off in the house, so I wondered if he was home. Seconds after
Fro knocked on the door, it opened. He smiled when Walt made himself visible.

“You know what time it is, old-timer, so let a nigga in.”

Walt smiled as he unlocked the screen door and pushed it open.
Fro stepped into the house, and I followed. As I entered through the back door,
I held my head down.

Walt grabbed me by the arm. “Do I know you?”

I was embarrassed to look into his face, but I did it anyway.
I tried to smile, but my mood didn’t allow me to do so.

Fro looked back at Walt. “She said she knew you. That’s why
she got out of the truck.”

Walt pulled me closer and looked directly into my face. “Kira.”

I tried to smile again, but the hurt and pain I had experienced
not even two hours ago started weighing heavily on me. I didn’t want him to see
me cry, because I didn’t feel like explaining to him what had happened to me. I
didn’t think he would understand, or even believe me.

Walt closed the door behind us and had me take a seat. He took
a seat beside me and started asking a hundred and one questions. My eyes immediately
got watery all over again.

“What happened to you? Who did this?”

When I didn’t answer right away, he looked at Fro.

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