Life After Wifey

by Kiki Swinson

  “Nobody!” I finally got up the nerve to say.

  “You lying to me?”

  “No, I’m not lying.”

  “So, where is all this shit coming from?” His released his grip on my face.

  “It’s been on my mind since Kira got killed. And for the life of me, I can’t figure out who could be responsible for her death other than the guys who shot her the first time. That’s all!”

  “You sure them detectives ain’t put that shit in your head?” he asked suspiciously.

  “No, they didn’t. But the question did come up.”

  “Who brought it up?”

  “They did.”

  “What did they say?”

  “They asked me if I believed the two incidents were connected.”

  “So, what did you tell ‘em?”

  “I told ‘em didn’t know. But…” I began to say but I stopped mid-sentence.

  “But what?”

  I sighed and said, “But, there’s a huge possibility that they could be.”

  “And what did they say?”

  “Syncere, we’ve already been through this. Why are you making me repeat everything over again?”

  “Because I want to make sure you didn’t leave anything out. Now, tell me what they said,” he replied like he was getting aggravated.

  Noticing that his behavior pattern was about to do another 180-degree turn, I realized that it would not be a smart move to step back out of my circle. If I gave him a chance to grab me around my neck again, he might not let me go until I was flat lining. So, I took a deep breath and said, “They asked me if Kira ever mentioned to me if she knew the guys who might have had something to do with her and Mark’s shooting.”

  “And?”

  “And I told ‘em no. I said she was just as curious to know, as we all are.”

  “So, what did they say?”

  “They believed what I told them and gave me their cards in case I remembered something else.”

  “Well, the next time they come to you with a whole bunch of fucking questions tell ‘em to contact your lawyer.”

  “But, I don’t have one.”

  “You will after tomorrow.”

  “But, why would I need one? I mean, it’s not like I’m their number-one suspect or something.”

  “Don’t question me, a’ight? Just do what I tell you to do and we gon’ be all right. But if you don’t then there’s going to be some serious fucking problems.”

  “Why do you always have to threaten me?”

  “Bitch, just shut up before I go upside your muthafucking head again.”

  I barely recognized the man in front of me. “Can you tell me what happened to the Syncere I fell in love with six months ago?”

  “Oh bitch, cut it out! You ain’t in love with me. You’re in love with the fact that I got money and I can take care of your ass.”

  “So whatchu trying to say?”

  “Come on now, don’t be stupid. Because if I wasn’t paying all these bills around here and giving you two grand a week allowance, you wouldn’t of fucked with me.”

  “Yes, I would’ve.”

  “No, you wouldn’t,” he said pointing directly at me. “You did it so you could show Kira that you could get somebody to take care of you too. It wasn’t nothing but a competition thing and you know it. Because as soon as I started lacing you with all that Jean Paul Gaultier and that Marc Jacobs shit you got in your closet, you started acting all big headed like you wasn’t use to shit. But, it was cool. I didn’t care if you wanted to flaunt and get your shit off around her since you didn’t have to work as her shampoo girl anymore. But, when you come at me like you run shit over here, then I’m gonna have to carry you a little different then your friend’s do. So, know that the next time you try to come at me like you did earlier, I’m telling you now that it’s gonna get real ugly. And I ain’t gon’ say it again.”

  Hearing the tone of his comment and watching him as he turned to walk out of the room, sent chills through my entire body. This man was fucking nuts. I was sleeping with the enemy. I mean, what man in their right mind would come off on me like this bastard just did? And for me to sit here and take it like I am a damned fool showed him how weak I was. But I got a trick for his ass. I had never ever been in a relationship with a nigga who put his hands on me, so the ball dropped here. And if he thought I was going to tell those detectives to back off me with the questions just to get the heat off him, he was be mad. It would not happen in this lifetime. Ol’ psycho muthafucka!

  4

  True Story

  Syncere Speaks

  After that stunt I just pulled on Nikki, I know she was probably sitting back in the crib thinking that I was some bugged-out-ass nigga. But, it wasn’t like that for real. I am just a regular ol’ cat who is stressed the fuck out right now because of all that heat I’ve got on me. And then to have her questioning me about her cousin’s murder kind of fucked my head up. I mean, come on.Nikki should’ve known better than to come at me like that. For a minute I thought she was trying to trick me into doing some confessing type shit. But, then again, she couldn’t be that fucking stupid. I mean, what street nigga you know would confess to a body? Not Syncere. Shit, I’m from Newark, New Jersey, where niggas in my hood run around like beasts. Cats from my way wouldn’t confess to a body if they were caught butchering a nigga in broad daylight. So, what part of the game was she playing? Whatever it was, she’d better slow her roll, before she ended up like Kira. And I just might be the muthafucka to do it.

  Don’t get me wrong, I liked fucking around wit’ her, ‘cause she was cool to be with most of the time, plus she’s got some good pussy. The only thing about her I didn’t like was that she was green as hell. She wasn’t hip to the streets at all, which was why I kept her as far away as I could from my business. A chick like her would getcha life in prison if you messed around and put her down with your grind. She would bitch up and tell those crackers everything they wanted to hear and I couldn’t have that. So, the best place for her is to continue riding this dick every time this muthafucka rock up. Other than that, she needed to stay out of my way or she was gonna find herself sleeping next to her cousin. And believe me, I ain’t gon’ lose no sleep behind it, either. She’d be just another funeral service I contributed to because life is too short for the larceny.

  I’m a brown-skinned, handsome, 30-year-old cat with chiseled features and a build of 5’11, 220 lbs. who loved to make plenty of dough and fuck plenty of pussy. Niggas tell me I remind them of that rich-ass nigga 50 Cent. And I know they ain’t lying because he’s all about his business and I am too. So if a day goes by and I can’t acquire one or the other, shit just ain’t gon’ be right. And whoever was in my circle at the end of the day would feel the repercussions from it. Take, for instance, the shit that went down with Mark’s murder. Yeah, I had that nigga done up. And I had a good reason for doing it, too. See first of all, I didn’t give a fuck who you were, you ain’t gon’ disrespect me, which was what that nigga did. Okay granted, I tricked up a lot of his dough and stepped on his packages more times than he wanted me to and brought the quality of it down, but that was still no reason for him to scream on me in front of my soldiers. Calling me out and asking me in front of my homeboys if I was hanging out in the dope spots, getting blazed with the fiends, was the most disrespectful thing he could’ve ever said. And what set the whole shit off was how he came off on me. This muthafucka screamed on me like I was his hoe. So, you can imagine how my homeboys was looking at me. I felt like a little bitch standing there, high as gas and looking stupid than a mu’fucka. And since I didn’t want to fuck up my high, I went on and let him get his shit off his chest. But everybody, including him, knew that I was gon’ straighten his ass out later. The game was built on principle, so he should’ve pulled me to the side and stepped to me in a better way. But nah! He wanted everybody around us to know that he was the big man and that he was the nigga frontin’ me all the dope I was getting, wh
ich was the wrong move. It didn’t matter to me that I was working for him. What mattered was the fact that he fronted on me like I was a fucking crackhead. And to keep him from trying that bullshit again, I got my boys to eliminate his ass. Shit, I’ve got a reputation to protect.

  Niggas respected me ‘cause they knew I was a loose cannon. So, I couldn’t let that shit he did slide. That’s why I had to deal with it. Too bad Kira got shot and lost her baby in the crossfire. She shouldn’t have been at the wrong place at the wrong time. I mean, hey, shit happened. And now that Mark was out of the equation, I had a truckload of free dope and a whole lot of customers who want to buy. My only problem was that I had to get those homicide detectives from off my back. And if Nikki didn’t stick to her guns and do like I told her, she was gonna end up on the side of a milk carton. Bottom line! Anyway, I was gonna head on down to Norfolk, to my car wash, so I could clear my head. Maybe then I could get a better sense of why Nikki came off on me like she did. Luckily for her, I wasn’t in the mood to put her in a body bag. But I wasn’t gonna lie: If this shit kept up, it was gonna happen sooner than later. And that was my word!

  The parking lot of my car wash was empty except for my man Quincy’s whip and a white 2007 LS 460 that belonged to dis nigga named Lloyd. Lloyd was a big, black, flamboyant type of nigga from P-Town. Hoes be going crazy over his ugly ass because he looked like Biggie Smalls and he had a little bit of dough. Seeing this nigga’s car parked out here this time of the night sent a clear message to me that there was a serious dice game going on inside. And if they were throwing around the type of money I liked, then I’d have to get in on the fun, too.

  “Ay yo, niggas, what’s good,” I said the moment I unlocked the door to my office and walked through it. But to my surprise, these niggas weren’t rolling dice. Quincy was sitting in the lounge chair just a few feet away from my desk, playing Madden 2007 on the PlayStation 3 we copped two days ago from this dope fiend. And that nigga Lloyd was sitting in the other chair across from him, talking on his cell phone. His loud and ignorant ass was telling some chick that he wasn’t gon’ stop by and see her if she wasn’t gon’ let him get his dick wet. Me and Quincy both laughed at his crazy ass. He found himself to be amusing too, ‘cause as soon as he hung up with the chick, he smiled at me and said, “Yeah nigga, I got dem hoes trained!”

  I threw my hand in the air and waved him off. “Yo, man, dem hoes ain’t thinking about your ass, for real!”

  “Shiiid! I betcha I can take your girl,” Lloyd fired back at me and then he laughed.

  “Oh nah, son! You can’t take nothing I got, especially if it’s a chick. So, you need to get that outcha mind!”

  “You wanna put some money on it?” Lloyd retaliated in a cocky manner, simultaneously pulling a wad of money from his pants pocket.

  I took a seat in the chair behind my desk and said, “Yo, nigga, you better put that li’l bit of money back in your pocket before you fuck around and lose it, for real.”

  “Yeah, whatever, nigga,” Lloyd replied as he pushed the money back down into his pocket.

  Quincy burst into laughter as he continued to play the game and said, “Y’all niggas is funny!”

  “Nah, that’s your boy Lloyd over there, acting like a clown.”

  “Oh trust me, I’m far from being a clown. But I am killer at heart,” Lloyd struck back in a condescending manner and then he laughed it off.

  “Shiiid, nigga, you ain’t the only cat ‘round here who’ll bust a gun,” I told him.

  “Damn sure ain’t,” Quincy interjected, never taking his eyes off his game.

  Lloyd chuckled and said, “Y’all niggas think y’all really tough, huh?”

  “Throw some heat my way and see what happens,” I fired back.

  “Nigga, you always ready to get into a damn gun fight,” Lloyd blurted out.

  “Damn right, nigga! I’m trained to go,” I told him, getting hyped by my words.

  “A’ight, since you trained to go, suit up one of dem pits you got and meet me at the spot in P-Town, so I can get some of that car wash money I seen Quincy counting earlier.”

  “Oh nah, you’ll never see none of that dough ‘cause dem bitches I got back at my kennel are beasts.”

  “Well, pull ‘em out and bring ‘em on down to the spot. ‘Cause I got this vicious, all-black pit who’s a straight killer. And when I blow this special whistle I got for him, he goes crazy and tears shit apart.”

  “How many fights has he been in?” I asked.

  “Just two. Because I just recruited him from this cat who breeds my pits.”

  “How much money you laying down?” I asked him.

  “Twenty grand.”

  “Oh shit!” Quincy stopped playing and looked at us. “That nigga ain’t playing!”

  “You sure you wanna lay down that type of dough?” I questioned Lloyd.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. So, what’s up? Can you match it?”

  “Come on now, son, don’t try to play me!”

  “I ain’t trying to play you, Syncere. But if you feel like I’m putting up too much dough, then I can lower the count to ten or fifteen.”

  Getting pissed off by this nigga’s sly-ass remarks, I stood up from my chair, dug in my pockets and pulled out all the dough I had and said, “Nigga, I got twenty grand right here and got more where this came from. So, what’s up?”

  “Oh, I’m ready.”

  “Well, what time are you trying to get down?” I asked.

  “That nigga Mike is opening up the ring tonight after eleven. So, you can meet me up there at midnight,” he replied and got up from his chair.

  “A’ight! Well, let’s do this, then,” I said. I looked over at Quincy and told him to get Rameek on the phone and tell him to get my fighters up and ready.

  “A’ight,” he said and got on his on cell phone to make the call.

  Meanwhile, Lloyd made a few more slick-ass comments, but he did it in a joking manner as he headed for the exit. So I let him live.

  Quincy followed me down to the spot in P-Town and, as expected, the joint was packed. I recognized a lot of the cars parked outside so I knew, right off the bat that this was going to be a good night. After me, Rameek and Quincy rounded my bitches up and locked them up ‘round back in the storage shed to keep ‘em away from the other dogs, I went back ‘round front to sign in and place my bet. Quincy caught up with me a few minutes later while Rameek stayed behind to keep a close eye on my investment.

  In this game, it was very important not to leave your dogs unattended. Niggas in this business will do everything in their power to sabotage your chances of walking away with all their dough. I remember a while back, some niggas poisoned three pits that belonged to this cat named Big Hank. And boy, when that nigga found out about it, he shot this place up because he knew that once he placed his bet, he wasn’t going to get his dough back, regardless if his dogs got killed or not. So, homeboy lost out all across the board. But, lucky for him, he busted his shots into the ceiling and nobody got hurt.

  Because I believe if he would’ve pointed his gun anywhere else, he would’ve been taken out of here in the same body bag with all three of his pits. That’s why you had to stay on guard at spots like this, because it was crazy and these other niggas didn’t give a fuck aboutchu.

  Right before my beasts had their face-off with Lloyd’s pits, I stepped to him to make sure he had already laid down his dough. He was standing in a huddle with a crew of niggas he fucked with from P-Town. Two of the cats I knew from coming to the car wash; the other two I’d never seen before. So when I approached Lloyd, they gritted on me like they were his bodyguards or something. But it didn’t stop me from stepping to him. “Yo, nigga , you ready?”

  “You ready?” he struck back in a way like he was trying to show off in front of his homeboys.

  “Oh, no question,” I assured him.

  “Put that twenty grand down yet?” he asked me in a sarcastic kind of fashion.

  “Got my tick
et right here,” I told him and flashed it in front of him.

  “I got mines, too,” he assured me by patting his right pants pocket.

  “Yeah, well, I hope it was for that same twenty large you was talking about earlier.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I gotcha covered.”

  “Well, that’s what’s up, den. So, we got the next fight, right?”

  “That’s what I was told.”

  “A’ight. Well, I’mma holler at you in a few.”

  “A’ight,” he replied and turned his back to me as I walked off.

  I headed back over to where Quincy was standing and said, “I can’t wait to see that fat nigga’s face when I take his dough tonight!”

  “What he say?” Quincy asked.

  “The nigga ain’t say shit! But he was over there showing off, like he’s got some serious paper.”

  Quincy started laughing and said, “Come on now, you know that nigga is known for trying to shine in front of his peoples.”

  “Yeah, I know. But, sometimes he be taking that shit to another level and I don’t like it.”

  “Yo, man, don’t sweat that shit he be talking. ‘Cause he ain’t nothing but a pussy-ass nigga anyway.”

  “Yeah, that’s probably why he got dem wack-ass niggas over there surrounding him, like they’re his bodyguards or something.”

  “That’s how that nigga roll when he’s got a certain amount of dough on the line.”

  “Well, if he knows like I know, he needs to get rid of dem crab-ass niggas and recruit some real soldiers that look like they trained to go!”

  “Lloyd ain’t getting rid of none of them niggas ‘cause two of ‘em is his cousins and the other two are his flunkies.”

  “Yeah, well, we gon’ see how loyal dem niggas are when the heat is coming at ‘em.”

  Quincy burst into laughter again and said, “I would sure love to see that.”

  I looked at Quincy with a grim expression and said, “If shit don’t go the way I plan, you might see it sooner than you think.”

  “Well, you know you gon’ have to kill every last one of them, right?”