Heartbreak of a Hustler's Wife: A Novel

by Nikki Turner

“Seriously, though,” Lava gathered her composure, “you need to hear this. So listen good. Des is royalty in this town. Hated by some, loved by most, but respected by all. And just because I was engaged to his nephew, Nasir, I get treated like a member of the royal family.”

  “So you’re the Duchess of Richmond?” Desember joked.

  “Pretty much,” Lava said without a second thought.

  “Anything else I need to know?”

  “Yeah, the shit may sound funny, but all jokes aside…,” Lava made sure she had Desember’s full attention. “Des is your father. And you know what that means?”

  Desember played along. “No, tell me.”

  “It means,” Lava said, “whether you accept it or want it or not, that makes you the Princess. Once people find out, they gonna treat you different. For better or worse but mostly better. I just thought you should know. Now, once we in, don’t leave my side—we go wherever together.”

  “Got ya. Now let’s go into the damn party, please.”

  Before they could get inside, Desember peeped a few admirers checking them out.

  “Damn, baby, you fine. Let me get a few minutes wit chat,” cracked a guy in a blue mink jacket standing next to a black extended-length Escalade.

  “You’re not coming into the shindig?” Desember inquired as she kept walking.

  With a slight smile, he replied, “Maybe a lil later, baby.” He looked her up and down with lust in his eyes. “Definitely before they slice the birthday cake.”

  Lava pulled Desember ahead. “They from the 643, and dem dudes you don’t want no parts of.” She looked over her shoulder to double check that she was giving the proper information to her little cousin. The dude caught Lava looking and waved to her. Lava rolled her eyes and kept stepping while spilling the tea. “Yes, girlie, they into some shit. Always up to no good. As a matter of fact, if this wasn’t the party of the year, I would leave at this very moment because whenever those clowns are around there’s always some stupid shit that seems to follow them,” Lava said.

  “Lava, I like your friend,” the guy in the blue mink called out.

  The girls ignored him and kept it moving straight past the velvet ropes. They headed right into VIP checked, where there were bottles popping like asses in a rap video.

  Lava hadn’t lied: she knew everybody, and even though it wasn’t her party, they were both treated like first-class street royalty. Desember loved every second of it. People came over, wanting to be introduced to her as she mingled with the who’s who of the town. The DJ even gave them shout-outs on the mic. They were having a blast, and then the DJ began playing the instrumental to 50 Cent’s “In Da Club,” and the DJ started singing, “Go, Scrooge, it’s your birthday!” The crowd went crazy. Scrooge got on the stage and was dancing with about ten half-naked girls dressed in blue and white fur minidresses. Then one of Scrooge’s boys, who was drunk, took the microphone from the DJ and announced, “Wait until y’all see this motherfucking birthday cake!”

  At that very second a fight broke out. At first, Desember was shielded from everything because she was in VIP, but in a matter of seconds, VIP had turned into a romper room. Every bouncer in the club was either running to or already caught up in the melee. Without security to stop them, people pushed their way into the VIP section to avoid getting hit. Others used the opportunity to help themselves to the bottles of champagne that were on display for Scrooge’s very important guests.

  The brawl took Desember by surprise but Lava acted quickly. She grabbed Desember’s hand to guide her to the coat check. “The party is officially over for us. We got to get the hell outta here before they get to shooting.”

  “I’m following you,” Desember said. She was forced to let go of Lava’s hand when three bouncers flew in between them, almost knocking Desember down as they ran toward the fight.

  When Desember caught up with Lava, she was talking to the coat check girl who was definitely upset about something or someone. It didn’t take very long for Desember to find out why.

  “Them fucking fools robbed the door and had the fucking nerve to take my got-damn tip jar. I needed that money to buy my baby some smoke when I leave here.” Her makeup was smeared down her face from crying.

  “Damn, girl.” Lava really didn’t give a used tampon about the tip jar. All she wanted to know was, “Do you know who it was?”

  Just then, Desember’s attention went down the hallway, out the door, where she saw a rack of coats being put into the black stretch Escalade she’d seen earlier. Never taking her eyes from the truck, she took off down the hall because she wanted to make sure that the thieves had not taken their coats. However, by the time she got to the entrance, the Escalade had peeled off, leaving a trail of smoke. She walked back down the hall, praying that maybe Yarni’s coat had been spared. She shoved her claim ticket into the girl’s hand. “Tell me them fools don’t have my coat.”

  In her heart Desember knew the answer to the question but wanted to hear it from the horse’s mouth.

  The girl didn’t even double check the ticket. “The stickup boys got you too.”

  Desember was outdone. As they walked to the car, all she thought about was how Fame’s victims must have felt.

  It ain’t no fun when the rabbit’s got the gun!

  If It Wasn’t for Bad Luck

  Desember sat in Lava’s car, bent over at the waist, holding her head in her hands. She had a splitting headache. This can’t be happening kept running through her mind. That, and how was she going to get that damn coat back.

  “You okay, girl?” Lava’s coat was also stolen and even though it was a present from Nasir, her dead fiancé, Desember seemed to be more distraught than she was. “The hoodlums in the big city shook you up, huh?”

  Desember sucked her teeth at Lava. “Girl, not hardly. You don’t know the half of my bio. I’ve seen far worse than a damn fight in a club. Trust me.”

  “I thought so,” Lava said, obviously expecting Desember to respond. After a few moments of silence, Lava reminded her, “But you gotta remember, it’s only a coat, and it can be replaced.”

  Desember looked up, “I know that! But it belonged to Yarni and I didn’t even ask her permission to borrow it.”

  “Oh shit,” Lava exclaimed. “Girl, that’s really fucked-up!”

  “Exactly.” Desember shook her head from side to side, but she couldn’t shake the mess she’d gotten herself into.

  “It’s already awkward enough that I showed up in these people’s lives on some ‘hello daddy dearest’ type of shit. Like, I’m the daughter you never knew about. Oh, and I’m gonna need a safe place to chill out because some people who almost tried to kill my stickup kid boyfriend may have a hit on my life on too.” She tried to make light of the situation.

  “Damn.” Lava hadn’t looked at it from that point of view.

  “But even though my entrance is bizarre and suspect, these people welcomed me into their world with open arms, giving me the run of the house. And as a thank-you, the first real time I’m out the house I betray their trust by borrowing a coat? And let some lames steal it.” She sighed. “Like, for real, is this my life?”

  “Damn, girl,” Lava felt bad for her. “I don’t know what to tell you, but I know I damn sure wouldn’t want to be in yo’ shoes right now. I heard Aunt Yarni used to be on some ‘kick-a-bitch’s-ass’ back in the day. Don’t let the power suits and briefcase fool ya!”

  Desember was stressed and confused at the same time.

  Lava didn’t know how to help. “I’m not trying to be a bearer of bad news; I’m just giving you the real. I just want you to know what you’re up against.” When Lava turned the ignition, she saw the fuel level was low. “We gotta stop and get gas. If you want, we can go by the Waffle House too. Maybe some food will make you feel better and get your blood pressure down.”

  “What should I do?” Desember asked, unable to think about eating. “Do I just keep it real funky and tell her the truth?”


  “That you stole her chinchilla and now it’s probably going to be on the back of some D-boy’s bitch?” Lava took her eyes off the road for a split second to look at Desember. “What if it was an anniversary gift from Des or has some sentimental value?”

  Once Lava broke it down like that, Desember realized that telling Yarni probably wasn’t her best option. Then another idea popped into her head: “We gotta buy it back.”

  “Yeah, that might work,” Lava said. But then she thought about it further. “But it’s not even going to be on the market for at least day or so, if at all—that coat could get one of dem niggas a ticket to plenty of pussy or props with a chick, so he might not want to sell it.”

  “Yeah but stealing coats … you gotta be strapped for cash!” Desember knew that was a desperate move.

  “It would be the shock of the century if they were strapped for cash.” Lava hated to be the bearer of bad news, but—“I don’t think they’re really pressed for the money—those stupid-ass 643 guys do that kind of shit for a sport.”

  When Lava pulled into the parking lot of the 24-hour Exxon gas station on West Broad Street, Desember saw something that caused her to eyes to pop. “You see what I see? That’s the truck dude and ’em was riding in. The same one I seen ’em put the coats in.”

  The Escalade was parked off to the side of the gas station, near the air pumps.

  “Lava, ain’t that dat dude tried to holla at me?” She pointed at the guy wearing the blue mink, strolling inside the store part of the Exxon.

  “Yup, it sure is.” Lava nodded with a smile. “Damn, lil cuz, our luck may be turning around. But wait a minute, how we gonna get him to give it back?”

  “Whatever we do, we gotta figure this shit out real quick while this dude is in the store. You know him, right? And do you think I’ll be able to sweet-talk him out of it?” Desember asked, speaking fast.

  “I only know of him. And he’s a fucking asshole in his own way, so I wouldn’t roll the dice on that sweet-talk plan. Dem dudes don’t respect no chick. They only respect the code of the streets.”

  “A’ight, then, I know his kind.” She nodded. “Then we gotta keep it moving to plan B, which is a little mo risky business! You got my back?”

  Lava looked at her like she was crazy, almost taking the question as an insult.

  “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

  “You ain’t even gotta ask. Now, what we going to do?”

  “After I do what I gotta do, I’m going to need you to lead me outta here. I don’t have the foggiest idea where I’m at. A’ight, we gotta move pretty fast.” She spoke rapidly.

  Before Lava could protest or agree, Desember was making moves like she did this type of thing all the time.

  “I know you ain’t thinking about doing what I think you thinking ’bout doing.”

  “Nope,” Desember said. “I’m done thinking about it. I’ma take the truck. Now ride or die with me, cuzo.” Then she was moving faster than a gazelle in the jungle.

  Desember was prepared to bust the windows out and hotwire the car if she had to, but lucky for her the door to the Escalade was unlocked. These fools even left the keys in the ignition, she thought to herself. She was at the point of no return.

  Desember quickly rammed the gearshift in reverse, spun the truck around, and rolled out like she was the repo man. The Escalade had so much horsepower that at first she was close to being on two wheels, which wiped the smile right off of her face.

  In the rearview mirror someone was running after her, waving his hands like that would make her stop. Not hardly. Once the Escalade straightened up, she mashed the accelerator of the eight cylinders as hard as she could to get the hell out of Dodge. It only took a few seconds for her to adjust, and then she was the one in control of the the truck and the situation.

  The rush, at the moment, had her feeling like she was higher than any drug could make her. Lava trailed behind in full throttle, passing the truck so Desember could follow her. Desember called Lava on her cell phone. “Girl, I know you still need gas but you gotta take us somewhere safe, first.”

  “A’ight.” Lava was giggling. “But, bitch, you crazy as shit.”

  “You didn’t know,” Desember agreed, feeling a rush from the adventure.

  They finally pulled over in an apartment complex to search the back of the Escalade. They found Lava’s fur, but Yarni’s coat wasn’t there and Desember started to freak out.

  Desember searched again and again. “If it wasn’t for bad luck, I swear I wouldn’t have any luck at all.”

  That’s when they heard a phone ring. “Is that your phone?” Lava asked.

  “Nope, you know good and well I wouldn’t have no damn booty pop song as no ringtone.” Desember continued to check the coats, for the sixth or seventh time. “The shit has to be here,” she mumbled.

  The ringing came from the front seat of the Escalade. Lava answered the phone, “Hello.”

  “Where the fuck you at?” Dude sounded mad.

  Lava passed the phone to Desember.

  “Hello, who is speaking and what do you want?” Desember toyed with the caller, knowing good and well who it was.

  “Don’t play games, bitch! You know who it is. Why you take my shit?”

  “Wait one minute. You can kill that ‘bitch’ shit right now, motherfucker!” Desember said into the phone, clearly not intimidated. “And I could ask the same damn question: why you take my shit? And where the fuck is my chinchilla?”

  “I thought that was you. You the girl I tried to holla at outside.”

  “Well you got my attention now. So holla. Where’s my shit?”

  “Tell me where you are and we can talk about it.”

  “Outside in the cold, with no damn coat, that’s where,” she said.

  “Look, baby, we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Rocko and I apologize for any inconvenience, but we can get this shit all figured out. Take what’s yours. Then tell me where you are.”

  “First of all,” Desember said, “my fucking coat isn’t here. And secondly, why in the hell would I tell you where I am?”

  “I respect yo gangsta, Ma. But you said yo’self, the coat ain’t there. What you want me to do?”

  “What I want,” Desember informed him, “is for you to get my shit back. However you do that is your choice. Hook or crook. I really couldn’t give a damn.”

  “This is what I’ma gonna do,” Rocko said. “And this is because I like you. I’ll try to get with my boy and hopefully find you your coat. No promises. But don’t let nothing happen to my truck, or there’s going to be problems.”

  “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, Rocky—”

  “It’s Rocko,” he corrected her.

  “Well, Rocko, we already got problems, and I ain’t much for talking about them unless you get my coat. I’ll be waiting on you.” She hung up. He called right back and she answered. “Don’t call this phone anymore until you got my damn coat, okay?”

  “Right, I got that, but you got shit that belongs to me as well, and I need to get my truck back. How long you going to be up?”

  “I’m up and out. I’m not going home without my coat. Basically it’s like this: ain’t no sleep for the weary—and if I don’t sleep, guess what, champ? You won’t either! Call me back when you got my coat in your hand. Until then, I’m joyriding on your full tank of gas, smoking all of your weed that you had in the glove box, and you better hope I don’t fuck up your rims when I bend the corner or park this big boy shit here.” Desember disconnected the call and sat in the driver’s seat and rolled them a big fat spliff courtesy of Rocko as she faced reality.

  It was after 3 a.m., and she had passed her curfew. She was in possession of a stolen truck filled with stolen furs and had no idea when, if ever, she would get Yarni’s coat back. Saying she was in deep shit was truly an understatement.

  A Blast from the Past

  The next day Yarni was in her office, going over files, when Layla c
ame over the intercom: “You have a Ronald Bledsoe to see you. He says it’s urgent.” Layla dropped her voice to almost a whisper, “But don’t they all say that?”

  Yarni hadn’t heard that name since God knows when. “What’s it in reference to?”

  “He says he’s an old friend and needs to speak to you about a family issue. That’s all he would tell me. I tried to get as much information as I could out of him. I placed him in the conference room for now, but if you want, I’ll get rid of him.”

  When he mentioned family, was he there because he knew something about who shot Des? The robbery? Whatever the reason, her curiosity was definitely piqued. “No problem. I’ll give him five minutes of my time in the conference room. Please interrupt in five minutes exactly.”

  “Of course.” Layla knew the drill. Part of her job was rescuing her boss from people who wasted her time or wanted her legal advice for free. Yarni was guilty too; she was a caring person to a fault at times and got caught up in wanting to assist clients however she could. As Yarni made her way to the conference room, Layla set her alarm so that her boss would not fall victim to another joker.

  The conference room was of moderate size on the second floor of the three-level building. Equipped with a legal pad and her favorite pen, Yarni walked into the room. Upon sight, she was surprised at the person who was sitting at the table. She had to do a double take to recognize him. Rahllo?

  He’d lost at least fifty pounds. Maturity had suited him well. His skin tone, still black as midnight, had a radiance to it. The last time she’d seen him, they were at a club and he was feeling the effects of the laxative she’d slipped him. It was hilarious.

  “Rahllo, talk about a blast from the past. The last time I saw you, you were a shitty mess in the worst way.”

  He stood and greeted her with a peck on the cheek. “Yeah, I was.” He didn’t put much into the comment. “But you still looking good, girl. Real good,” he said as he stepped back to get a better view. “It’s been such a long time.”

  “It has,” she said. “How can I help you?”