Life After Wifey

by Kiki Swinson

  Hearing this man tell me that my cousin just died hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t believe it. I mean, there had to be some kind of mistake. Kira couldn’t be dead.

  I just had her wrapped up in my arms back at her apartment a couple of hours ago. Whatever this man was talking was pure nonsense and I couldn’t accept that.

  Meanwhile, as the thoughts of living my life without her started consuming me, my grandmother walked off in another direction, crying her poor little heart out. My parents got a little more in-depth with the complications Kira had and why they could not save her. I, on the other hand, just sat there in a daze.

  My family and I left the hospital shortly after the doctor broke the news to us. Unfortunately, no one was able to see Kira’s body except my grandmother. A nurse escorted her down to the morgue to ID her and get her belongings. My parents and I were cornered in a small room by the same two detectives from Kira’s apartment. They didn’t have much to say this time, so our little chat went by quickly.

  When we arrived back at my grandmother’s house I went off into a room by myself while my parents sat around in the living room with my grandmother. I heard bits and pieces of their conversations. But when they started talking about making Kira’s funeral arrangements, I immediately turned a deaf ear to them because I wasn’t ready to accept the fact that my home girl was dead. As it turned out, they ended up handling everything and I was truly fine with it because it took the burden off me.

  2

  Just Another Funeral Service

  Nikki Speaks

  Immediately after the burial everybody, including my family and Kira’s friends, gathered around my grandmother’s house to pay their last respects. I had to admit that this whole thing had been one emotional ride for it and me would not be over until the niggas who had done this to my cousin got dealt with. I had been crying myself to death from the moment I laid eyes on Kira lying in a pool of her own blood. And what was bugging me the fuck out is that I believe I walked by the grimy-ass bastard who murdered her. I mean, who else could it have been? This guy, whom I’d never seen in this area, was running from the direction of her apartment building right before I found her body. And even though I couldn’t give the homicide detectives an accurate description of how that man looked, I do remember him being an older guy of Hispanic descent. I would be able to pick his ass out in a lineup if I had a chance to. I just wish I had gotten there sooner.

  Maybe I could have done something and she would be still alive. Sitting there watching everybody grieve her death was becoming unbearable and I needed to excuse myself and get a breath of fresh air.

  On my way toward the exit that led to the patio, Kira’s hair salon partner, Rhonda, approached me and asked me if I was all right. As badly as I wanted to respond, I couldn’t. I got choked up and my eyes welled up with tears. Feeling my pain, she embraced me and led me onto the patio.

  “Go ahead and let it out,” she told me, rubbing her hand across my back in a circular motion.

  “I just can’t believe she’s gone,” I said, burying my face deep in Rhonda’s shoulder.

  “I can’t believe it either,” Rhonda replied, letting out a long sigh. “What’s really upsetting me is that she couldn’t have an open-casket funeral so we couldn’t really bid our farewells.”

  “I know. I felt the same way,” I said to Rhonda. “But her face was so disfigured that the funeral director advised us to have a closed-casket ceremony.”

  “Have those detectives contacted you again?” Rhonda asked.

  “Yeah. They came by my apartment last night right after Syncere left,” I told her immediately after releasing myself from her embrace.

  “Do they have any suspects yet?”

  “Nope,” I said and then I let out a long sigh.

  “Girl, don’t worry. They will.”

  “Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it. I mean, look how they’re dragging their feet with finding the niggas who shot her outside her apartment and killed that new guy, Mark, she was fucking with.”

  “Oh yeah, I see what you’re saying. Somebody’s definitely not doing their damn job.”

  “You got that right! But, I’ll be damned if I sit back and let this shit right here go unsolved,” I yelled. I became enraged by the thought of my cousin’s killer going unpunished and tears began to fall rapidly from my eyes.

  Rhonda told me to calm down and assured me that somebody would pay for what they did to Kira. She put her arm around my 5’3, 125-lb. frame and held me tight. The sheer, black, spaghetti-strapped dress I was wearing got tangled up in Rhonda’s gold-plated costume jewelry bracelet, creating a small rip in the lower back part of my dress, right above my huge-ass butt.

  “They sure will,” I told her and tried to fix my dress by camouflaging the hole with the stained lining.

  “I am so sorry about your dress,” Rhonda expressed, looking directly at the rip.

  “It’s okay. It ain’t nothing but a dress,” I assured her, my half-breed– looking complexion becoming even more flushed with the redness of my eyes. I walked back into the house leaving Rhonda standing out on the patio.

  I went directly up stairs into my grandmother’s bedroom to be alone and collect my thoughts. I was beginning to feel like I was on the verge of having a nervous breakdown. Then I figured, what good would that do? I needed to do some soul searching and figure out what I was going to do about everything that was going on. I could not let Kira’s killer go unpunished. I didn’t care who it was.

  It could have been Syncere and I would have felt the same way. He was public enemy number one right now for arousing suspicion of his involvement in Mark’s murder through a text message he got from one of his hit men. So believe me, whoever was involved would pay for all the pain my family was feeling right now. I couldn’t see it any other way.

  The last person left around eight-thirty. I locked the front door and I went to accompany my grandmother, who was standing over the kitchen sink, washing dishes.

  She was very quiet and I could tell she was in deep thought, so I broke the silence by asking her what was on her mind.

  She sighed heavily, “Oh, I’m just thinking about how things are going to be without Kira. She’s going to truly be missed around here.”

  I let out a long sigh and replied, “She sure is, grandma.” I took a seat at the kitchen table.

  “Have you decided whether you were going to hire a professional moving crew or are you going to move her things out of her place yourself?”

  “I’m going to hire a crew to move the big things. But me and Rhonda are going to pack up and move the small stuff ourselves. Speaking of which, do you know I overheard Cousin Maxine and Aunt Brenda squabbling over who was going to get Kira’s clothes and furs?”

  “Now, I know they ain’t done no mess like that,” my grandmother replied with an expression of disbelief.

  “Oh, yes they did. And you should’ve heard Aunt Brenda ranting and raving about how Kira was her favorite niece so she knows she’s going to get a couple pieces of her diamond jewelry and a few pairs of her designer shoes.”

  “Well, since Kira was the favorite niece, where was she when Kira was going through all those problems with her husband and needed somebody to talk to? Because if my memory serves me correctly, every time Kira picked up the phone to call Brenda, she would always be short with her or tell her she was going to call her back.”

  “Oh yeah, I remember that. It use to hurt Kira’s feelings too, because she felt like Aunt Brenda was the only person in the family she could talk to.”

  “Yes, I know. But, we are not going to continue to dwell on that. We are going to look forward and make sure we handle all of Kira’s affairs in a proper fashion.”

  “I second that.”

  “That sounds good, Nikki, but do you think you’re ready to go back into that place?”

  “I’ve been fighting with it, but yeah, I’m ready. And besides, the thought of one of those guys stealing any of K
ira’s valuables things just does not sit right with me.”

  “What kind of valuable things does she have?” she asked grandmother while rinsing her hands off under the running water from the faucet and turned around in my direction.

  “Well, for one, she’s got some really expensive jewelry and fur coats in there. I know she’s got three expensive wall paintings and a set of oriental vases she inherited from her mom after she passed away. We’ve got to make sure that stuff stays in safekeeping.”

  “What do you plan to do with those things?” my grandmother asked.

  “I was going to take some of it to my apartment and bring the rest of it here.”

  “I ain’t got any room for no more furniture around here,” she protested.

  “I know that, Grandma. That’s why I’m going to take Kira’s furniture and bring whatever I can’t fit into my place over here and store it upstairs in the attic.”

  “That’s fine. So, what do you plan to do with her car?”

  “I’m gonna sell it.”

  “But why, Nikki? It’s a brand new vehicle.”

  “I know. But I’m beginning to feel like every time I get behind the wheel there will be a black cloud looming over me and I don’t want to feel like that.”

  “Well, just pray to the good Lord and He’ll give you that peace you need to endure what you’re gonna come up against,” she replied as she took a seat at the table next to me.

  “I know,” I said, burying my face in the palms of my hands. The thought of Kira’s death was becoming impossible to deal with. Plus I was riddled with anxiety, knowing that her killer was still out there. Not to mention that my life could be in danger, which was even scarier. How do I even attempt to deal with that? I mean, it wasn’t like I had a couple of bodyguards around to protect me. I was alone now.

  Kira was all I had. She was like my big sister and my best friend. Plus, she took care of me, made sure I was straight and always had my back. That’s why I could not let her down. I would die before I let those bastards get away with taking her from me. Believe me, the muthafuckers who were responsible for shooting and causing her to miscarry and then shooting her again — but this time killing her —would suffer. That was my word!

  “Have you talked to those detectives again?” My grandmother’s voice broke into my thoughts.

  “Yeah, last night.”

  “What did they say?”

  “They just wanted to know if there was information I could think of that would help them come closer to solving the case.”

  “What did you tell ‘em?”

  “I told them exactly what I told them the first time.”

  “Do you think they have some good leads?”

  “I’m not sure, Grandma,” I said, my voice screeching as an attempt to cry out for help. I want so badly to let out everything I had bottled up in me. But I realized that my grandmother would not be able to handle it. She wouldn’t understand the game and how it worked. She really wouldn’t understand it if I told her Kira had something to do with her husband Ricky getting murdered.

  Oh my God! She would lose her mind and fall apart. Then she would have those same detectives breathing down my neck with a long list of questions. Who knew? I’d probably be behind bars a few hours later, charged with conspiracy to commit murder.

  And I could not have that. My place was out here on these streets. My best bet was to keep my mouth closed.

  “Are you okay, Nikki?”

  “Nah, Grandma, but I’ll be okay. I’m gonna head on home and get some rest.” I got up from the kitchen chair and pushed the chair under the table.

  “Are you sure you can drive in your condition?”

  “Yes, Grandma, I can.”

  “Okay, baby. Well, drive carefully and call me as soon as you reach home.”

  “I will, ” I said and kissed her on the cheek.

  3

  Sleeping With Da Enemy

  Nikki Speaks

  When I reached my apartment, I walked straight into my bedroom and found Syncere laying on my bed, shirtless, with a sheet draped across the bottom half of him. His chest muscles looked like they were about to pop while he relaxed against the bedpost watching a porno flick. His hand was wrapped around his big, thick dick, pumping it for dear life. On a good day I would’ve wanted to join in on the action since it was one of our norms to watch a flick together; but today I was too busy mourning my cousin. I turned around to walk back out of the room when he stopped me.

  “Hey, where you going? Come on over here so I can shoot this bullet up in you.”

  “Come on, Syncere, you know I am not in the mood for that right now,” I told him and proceeded toward the living room.

  “Wait!”

  I ignored him and kept right on walking. I sat on the sofa in my living room and buried my face in my hands as I thought about taking on the challenge of going into Kira’s apartment to pack up her things. Five minutes later, Syncere joined me.

  “Damn, Ma, you sure missed that explosion!”

  I lifted my head up from my hands and said, “Please baby, not right now.”

  “Ahh, cheer up!” he insisted as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder.

  “I wish it was that simple,” I responded and then sighed heavily.

  “But, it can be.”

  “How Syncere? Especially after knowing the nigga who murdered

  Kira is still out there. I mean, come on. It could be anybody. And for all I know this nigga could’ve been hiding out somewhere in the neighborhood, saw me when I went into her apartment and is waiting for a chance to knock me off.”

  “Yo, trust me, ain’t nobody gon’ fuck wit’ you,” he said in a cocky manner.

  “How you know? I mean, how can you be so sure?” I asked in a suspicious tone.

  “Because I am, that’s all!”

  “Well, why do I feel like you’re keeping something from me?” I boldly asked, sitting straight up as I turned my body to face him head on.

  In an abrupt manner, he became very defensive and replied, “What the fuck could I be keeping from you?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

  “Yo, Nikki, I don’t know what you’re trying to insinuate but my gut feeling is telling me that whatever it is, I ain’t gon’ like it.”

  “It’s probably your guilty conscience messing with you,” I responded sarcastically.

  “What the fuck you mean by that?” he snapped at me as he swung a powerful punch in my direction. When I saw his fist coming toward me with much force, my reflexes kicked in and allowed me to react by using my arms to shield my head.

  Immediately after his fist landed into my arms, I somehow jumped to my feet.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you? Don’t no niggas be putting their hands on me! I don’t play that Tina Turner shit!” I was bobbing my head like I was ready to go toe to toe with this nigga.

  “Shut the fuck up, bitch!” he retaliated and lunged back at me, grabbing me around my neck. The moment his hand locked around my throat my air passage began to tighten up. I found myself gasping for air.

  “Get off me,” I managed to utter as I feverishly tried removing his hand from around my neck. But it seemed like the harder I tried, the tighter his grip got.

  “Just shut the fuck up,” he yelled with rage, adding more pressure to his grip.

  Seeing how belligerent he had become after the accusation, I promptly tried a different approach. I honestly wanted nothing more than for him to release his hand from around my neck. I began to display no resistance at all and just stood still there before him with a helpless expression, as my eyes began to tear up. Once my actions were in full force, I found that my tactics were beginning to work because about twenty seconds later Syncere took his hand from around my throat and, without warning, pushed me back onto the living room sofa.

  “Owww!” I said, after stumbling back onto the couch.

  “Yo, didn’t I just say shut the fuck up?” he pointi
ng his finger in my face as he stood over top of me.

  Filled up to my neck in fear, I nodded my head as I massaged my neck. Seeing him act this way was a first-time experience. I was treading on new territory and I did not like it one bit. I was beginning to feel terrified and unsure of what to do next, so I sat back calmly and waited patiently for him to make the next move. I felt I had to let him believe that he had full control of the situation.

  “Don’t say another word until I tell you to. ‘Cause I see you don’t know what the fuck to say outta your mouth!” he replied, as he moved closer to me. “Do you know what I do to women who call themselves trying to disrespect me?”

  I shook my head no.

  He continued by saying, “I rip their fucking tongues outta their mouths and put them to sleep!”

  Hearing his response sent my heart racing out of the front door. I just couldn’t get up the gumption to get my feet to follow.

  “So, the next time you want to come out of your face like you did a few minutes ago, you better think about it first. ‘Cause I ain’t gon’ be responsible for what happens to you once my mind goes blank. You feel me?”

  I nodded my head yes.

  “Good! Don’t ever question me again about any bodies ‘cause whether you believe it or not, your cousin had that shit coming to her. Anybody in their right mind could see that that was a direct mob hit from the niggas who her husband probably owed some dough to. Quincy ran shit down to me about the Russians her husband was fucking with. Yeah, I heard them cats were about their business! And when they figured out that they wasn’t gon’ get their dough once the Feds shut down their shop, I guess they felt the need to cut their losses altogether. Now, am I right or wrong?”

  “I really don’t know, to be honest. But, there is something in the back of my mind that’s telling me that whoever killed Mark had something to do with Kira’s murder,” I replied in a very cautious manner and waited for Syncere’s facial expression or body language to change.

  And it did when he responded aggressively by saying, “Tell me who the fuck put that stupid shit in your head!” He roughed me up by placing his right hand on the side of my mouth, gesturing for me to talk.