Wifey: Part 1

“You can’t quit on me now,” Kelvin said.

Mia shook her head. She stood up and turned around, and Kelvin fucked her from the back standing up. He fucked her for about another two minutes, and then he pulled his dick out and pulled off the condom and shot his come all over Mia’s back and ass.

Finally after all that talking Mia seemed like she was returning to normal.

Kelvin grabbed Mia by the hand and led her into the bathroom, giving me my moment to escape. I quickly and silently slid out of the room and trotted down the hallway and into a stairwell, where I let out the biggest, loudest, and longest laugh I ever had in my life.

At that point I knew none of it would have even come about if it hadn’t been for Mia running her mouth on Twitter and telling the world where she was going to be staying.

When I saw her tweet, Kelvin was the first person I thought of to help me pull off my plan. I had known Kelvin from way back in the days. Me and him had never actually fucked because we knew each other for so long that we had developed a brother/sister kind of relationship. But I knew he would do anything for me, and on the flip side, I would do anything for him that he needed me to do.

Kelvin wasn’t a part owner of Mansion, but he was so cool with the owners of the club, he had carte blanche to whatever he wanted at that club, when he wanted it. What he really did for a living was hustle coke and pills inside the club, so he had a ton of money and the right swagger that I knew Mia would fall for.

My whole plan was to fly down to Miami, which was what I did, and Kelvin agreed to pay for my room at the hotel, which was the same room he fucked Mia in. I knew Mia would be weak and vulnerable and would fall for Kelvin if he came at her the right way.

At that point I wasn’t worried at all about what moves Mia would make, in terms of exposing my prostitution secret. I had what I needed to totally destroy her world, and that was exactly what I was going to do. The only thing I had to figure out was whether to strike first or to wait for her to make her move first and then go after her. Either way, I knew that as soon as Nico saw that tape, her ass would be official black history. Mia had no idea how I got down, but she was going to soon find the fuck out.

CHAPTER 20

Nico

It was Saturday, almost a week after I had come back from Atlantic City with Jasmine, and Mia still wasn’t home. I had to find out from Sharmel’s man where Mia and her partner in crime had run off to. To be honest, I cared about the disrespect that Mia was showing me, but I had more important shit to deal with.

It was a few days since Jasmine had carried out the hit on Shabazz for me, and that morning my cell phone was ringing off crazy. Shabazz’s murder had hit the morning news after he was found dead in his truck in the IHOP parking lot. When everybody called me, I played it off like I was shocked, like I had no idea who could have been behind it.

But by two o’clock that afternoon, Bebo called a meeting at the underground. I was shocked that even BJ had arrived before I did. It was clear that my name had been ringing out as a possible suspect in Shabazz’s murder.

“What’s good?” I said to everybody. I started to give everybody a pound.

Bebo didn’t give me a pound, but he did give me a fist bump.

“That shit is fucked up what the news is showing about Shabazz,” I said. I could feel that there was some kind of tension in the room, but I didn’t exactly know why.

“Nico, you know I’m always straight up with you, and I always keep it one hundred,” Bebo said with a slight screw face as he sat on the end of an old black leather couch.

“Bebo, what the fuck is up?” I asked.

Bebo stood up and walked to the other side of the room. He took out a Fanta leaf and started to roll some weed as he spoke, and wouldn’t look at me directly.

“When you run around and make moves without niggas knowing what the fuck you doin’, that’s how shit gets fucked up,” Bebo said.

“The fuck you talkin’ ’bout?” I asked with obvious bass in my voice.

“I’m talking about you and BJ running around, making us look weak and desperate for product and shit, when we all agreed that we were gonna start eatin’ off the same package with some other crews. How you fuckin’ with them Haitians? Who sanctioned that, huh? Because I sure didn’t.”

“So then where the fuck is the product? My niggas was out here starving, and they lookin’ to me to supply them with shit. Our connect dried up, so I’m doing what I gotta do so we can all keep eating,” I responded.

“Nigga, we got the product. I know what the fuck I’m doing! We got the shit off the boat yesterday. You runnin’ around chasing that weak shit, and I’m telling you, we got the best shit right now, and that’s what the fuck this game has always been about. You want a hundred percent of a little bit of that weak-ass product ’cause yo’ ass on that non-loyal shit!” Bebo said.

I shook my head. I held my tongue because I was about to spazz out on Bebo.

“You shakin’ your head, but I got Homicide asking me why was your prints on the shell casings from the bullets that killed my nephew,” Bebo said to me.

“What the fuck you talkin’ ’bout? Yo, that’s some bullshit, and them muthafuckas is lying! You and I both know if they really had my prints that my ass would be locked the fuck up, right now sitting on Rikers Island. So if you even thinking I had something to do with that shit, you straight bugging the fuck out.”

The whole room was quiet.

Bebo looked at me like he was trying to burn a hole into my soul to see what I was thinking. He had finished rolling his blunt and started to take some pulls from it. He blew weed smoke out of his lungs. “You was fuckin’ Shabazz’s girl or what?”