Wifey: Part 1

“You a’ight? You didn’t get hurt, did you?” Nico asked.

“I’m fine, but my car ain’t.”

“You need anything? I can call my man and have him tow you to his body shop in Valley Stream if you need me to.”

“No, I’ll be OK. I think I can drive it. I’m just gonna call the cops and report it. If I can’t drive it, I’ll call you back,” I said to Nico.

“A’ight, you sure you all right, though?”

I sighed once again in frustration, and then I lowered my voice so that Jada wouldn’t be able to hear everything I was saying.

“Yeah, I’m sure. But I am disappointed though. This is definitely not how I wanted to end my night. I wanted to chill with you,” I explained to Nico.

“We’ll make it happen,” Nico replied. “Yo, my phone is blowing up. I gotta bounce, but call me if you need me.”

“OK,” I said and ended the call. I couldn’t help but feel frustrated.

As I prepared to deal with my car accident, I was definitely hoping that I would get another opportunity to link up one-on-one with Nico.

CHAPTER 8

Nico

When I reached my crib I ran inside and I found my four goons who I had sent to my house to make sure Mia was safe. Mia immediately ran and hugged me.

“You OK?”

Mia nodded her head rapidly. I could tell she was still shaken up.

“The crib is good. We checked it top to bottom,” Earl said to me.

“They take anything? Mia, did you see what they looked like at all?” I asked.

Mia was so nervous, her body was literally trembling as I held on to her. She explained that she only could see the intruders on the surveillance camera and that they looked Spanish, but she couldn’t really tell for sure.

“I don’t think they took anything,” Mia added. “But I don’t know for sure because everything just happened so fast.”

I went upstairs and looked around. Other than the bullet holes in the walls and ceiling, everything looked in order. I went into my closet and saw that my safe hadn’t been touched. Then I went back downstairs to the main floor and looked around, and things looked cool. Some pictures and a lamp had been knocked over, and the front door was broken, but other than that, everything was good.

I checked the basement and could tell that nobody had been there, so I quickly made my way back to the main floor.

“Muthafuckas ran up in my crib with my girl up in here. Somebody is dying behind this shit!” I said, emphatically.

By this time it was five in the morning, and my right hand, BJ, showed up at my crib with his cousin Lorenzo, who we all called Lo. Lo was from Harlem, but he ran with us and never really fucked with Harlem cats. About fifteen minutes later Bebo showed up, Corey, and one of my best soldiers.

Everybody who I wanted to be there was there, so I sent Mia upstairs so we could talk without her being around and hearing more than she needed to hear.

“Nico, just give me the word on who you want me to hit and it’s done,” Corey said.

“I got a hundred thousand on the heads of the cats that ran up in my crib tonight. A hundred thousand for each body,” I confirmed. “Put the word on the street.”

At that point BJ signaled for me to walk with him, so we could talk in private. We left the crew sitting in my dining room, and me and BJ walked outside to the front of the house out of the earshot of everyone.

“The Colombians ain’t fuckin’ with us,” BJ said to me, referring to our connect.

“What the fuck you talkin’ ’bout?”

“On the way over here to your crib, Lo just told me that the Colombians think Bebo is a snitch and they ain’t fuckin’ with us,” BJ explained.