Bitch Reloaded # 4

by Deja King

  "No, I wouldn't. But not because of Supreme, but because of you," Mike said, now standing right in front of me. He put his hand under my chin and tilted my face up so my eyes were locked with his. Pretty Boy Mike, I thought to myself. Now I know why this nigga make me so frustrated I'm attracted to this son-of-a-bitch, always have been. And I hate myself for it.

  "Because of me? Why?" I questioned, trying to shake my feelings. His hand was still grasping my chin and I felt like I was being hypnotized by the penetration from his eyes. Maybe Mike was right. True kingpins are different. They got this certain darkness in their eyes. Nico had it, and so did he. That darkness always drew me in. It was like it called my name.

  Just then, I heard Nathan knocking at the door. Saved by the bell. "Precious, Jamal Crawford is here to see you."

  "Show him to the living room, I'll be right there." I couldn't believe that an hour had gone by already. I only planned to spend fifteen minutes with Mike, but now I wished I had an hour more.

  "What is Jamal Crawford here to see you about?" he asked, taking his hand away from my face.

  "We have some business to discuss regarding Supreme." The way I answered Mike's question so quickly, I knew I was in trouble. Somehow this slick-ass nigga managed to get next to me. I didn't want to believe it, but Mike had me infatuated.

  "What type of business, if you don't mind me asking?"

  "Before Supreme died, he had a lot of music recorded and I own the rights, so Jamal wants to make me an offer on behalf of Atomic Records."

  "How much is he offering?"

  "That's what he's here to discuss."

  "Before you sign anything with Atomic, make sure you let me take a look."

  "They have lawyers for that, and why would you want to take a look?"

  "I don't want you to get cheated and I know this business inside and out. That music is worth a fortune, especially now that Supreme is dead. I'm just looking out for your best interest."

  I gave Mike a slight smile, assuming that his kind gesture was more of an attempt to score brownie points than him actually caring about what deal I struck with Atomic Records. "Thank you, I'll definitely keep that in mind before I sign on the dotted line."

  "That's all I ask. Well, I won't keep you." Mike headed toward the door and I honestly didn't want him to leave.

  "Wait, you never told me why?"

  "Why, what?"

  "Because of me, you said you would no longer help Nico. Why?"

  "I'll have to answer that over dinner."

  Nathan was right there waiting by the door when Mike opened it. He was more than happy to show him out. I guzzled down the glass of cognac that had been waiting for me since Mike's arrival. The slight burning sensation that hit my chest as the liquor went down my throat gave me a burst of energy. I tossed my head back and sauntered out the den ready for part two with Jamal.

  When I entered the living room, Jamal was sitting on the elongated couch with a bottle of wine in his hand.

  "Is that for me?"

  Jamal initially gave me a look as if he didn't know what I was talking about, until I motioned my eyes to the bottle. "Yes, it's for us. I thought we could drink it over dinner. I hope you like red wine."

  "I'm more of a champagne or dark liquor kinda girl, but I'm up for trying something new. I'll pour us a glass." Jamal handed me the bottle and I went into the kitchen where Anna was preparing dinner.

  "Anna, my guest has arrived. So whenever you're ready you can serve dinner."

  "Yes, Mrs. Mills." As I poured the wine I still couldn't get Mike off my mind. His personality was a combination of Nico and Supreme. Maybe that's what I found so appealing. Nevertheless, Mike was trouble and someone I needed to stay far away from, especially since I couldn't deny my attraction to him.

  When I went back into the living room, Jamal was looking through me and Supreme's wedding album. I almost dropped the wine glasses due to shock. I hadn't been in the living room since I was shot and had forgotten all about those pictures. Seeing Jamal sitting there with the book in his hands brought all these emotions to the surface.

  "I didn't mean to intrude," Jamal said as he noticed I was standing before him frozen.

  "No, it's fine. I just haven't seen that book in so long."

  "You were a beautiful bride."

  "Thank you. That was the happiest day of my life. Now it's just a memory that causes me pain."

  "I'm so sorry, but I know that doesn't help. I can't begin to say that I feel your pain."

  "Yeah, I wouldn't wish losing the love of your life on anyone. It's kinda bizarre. Who would've ever thought that Precious Cummings from the Brooklyn projects would be talking about losing the love of her life? Not only that, but the love being the superstar rapper, Supreme. One better, is that I'm talking about it with you, my childhood neighbor and the man I lost my virginity to."

  "It is a bit awkward. You never know what direction life will lead you in. But it's not surprising to me that you ended up marrying a man like Supreme. Every man that laid eyes on you fell in love, including me."

  "Jamal, we were kids. What you felt for me was puppy love, nothing more."

  "It didn't feel that way then. I was crushed when you stopped coming to see me."

  "You knew it was only temporary. I was very honest with you," I said with a teasing smile.

  "I know. You wanted to practice how to better your sex skills, so you could blow the mind of some big time hustler."

  "Hearing you say that now sounds crazy."

  "Those were your words, not mine."

  "I know. So much has changed since then."

  "After you left the projects, I never saw you again. I would overhear conversations and people would say you were the wife of the infamous Nico Carter. That he treated you like a queen. You became a legend in Brooklyn. After your mother died, I went to her funeral and I hoped to see you there. I saw your mother a few times before her death, and she had changed her life around. No one could believe how beautiful she looked, just like her daughter," Jamal said solemnly. "That's why it was so tragic when she was murdered."

  I nodded my head, fighting back the tears that were swelling in my eyes. "It seems that everyone that I've ever loved has been taken away from me. But you know what the worse part is?" I stated, staring directly into Jamal's eyes. "In each of their deaths, I'm somehow responsible."

  "You can't blame yourself for the madness of the streets. You're just as innocent as the victims themselves."

  "Jamal, there is nothing innocent about me." Jamal had no idea that he was about to break bread with a killer. He still remembered me as Precious Cummings, the girl everyone felt sorry for because her mother was a crack whore. Oh, how things had changed.

  "You'll always be innocent in my eyes." I could hear the sincerity in Jamal's voice. It was rather touching.

  "Enough about me, look at you. You really have changed."

  "You're right about that. Who would've believed I'd be the president of a hip hop label?"

  "Me. Maybe not hip hop, but the president of a companyyes," I said honestly. "I knew you could rule the world if you wanted. You were just that smart."

  "That means a lot coming from you," he said.

  I wanted to get off the subject of me, because for some reason I felt guilty about how I treated Jamal a few years back. Yeah, we were only kids, but I was feeling like maybe I took advantage of him in some ways.

  "Did you know Rhonda? She worked at Atomic," I asked.

  "I didn't know her well. Was she a friend of yours?"

  "Yes. We were very close. She was actually my roommate before I married Supreme."

  "Really? We worked in different departments, but we talked occasionally. Everyone was in shock when she was murdered."

  "Yeah, so was I. Another death I'm responsible for," I mumbled under my breath.

  "Mrs. Mills, your dinner is ready."

  "Thank you, Anna. Let's eat."

  Jamal followed me to the dining room, and we d
evoured the delicious steak Anna prepared. Being around Jamal was so easy. I didn't feel as if I had to put my guard up as I would with everyone else. His behavior seemed genuine, without any ulterior motive.

  "Dinner was delicious. We've spent so much time playing catch up, that I almost forgot the reason I scheduled this dinner in the first place."

  "That's right, there was a reason. You have Supreme's business to discuss."

  Jamal gave me a charming smile right before he cut to the chase. "Unlike many artists, Supreme fulfilled his record contract. He put out a CD every year, sometimes twice. Right before his death, he was in negotiations with Atomic Records to sign a new multi-million dollar deal."

  "I guess that's impossible now that he is dead?" I inquired.

  "Actually, it's not."

  "I don't understand."

  "You know how much Supreme loved being in the studio. He completed enough new tracks to come out with three full CD's. Technically, he owns them. They were done on his own time and money after he fulfilled his obligations with Atomic. He let us listen to most of the tracks during negotiations, and it's his best work. That work is part of his estate, so you now own his music. Atomic Records wants to buy that from you."

  "Really? For how much?"

  "I'm not going to bullshit you, Precious, his music is worth a lot, especially now that he's dead. Supreme had the same type of fan following as someone like Tupac. I believe you should sit down with your attorney and discuss what type of numbers you should be asking for."

  "I appreciate you being so honest with me. You could've thrown a price out and if it sounded right I probably would've taken it, no questions asked. I mean, what the hell do I know about the music business? Plus, Supreme made so many lucrative investments, I have more money than I could possibly spend in this lifetime or the next."

  "Well maybe it's time you get familiar with it. Supreme has left you a very rich woman. You need to make your decisions wisely."

  "Thanks for the advice. I'll definitely keep that in mind. Maybe you can come back over again soon, and we can discuss it further."

  Jamal paused before saying with grin, "I don't think my fiancee would like that too much. She would take one look at you and shut it down."

  "Fiancee? You're getting married?"

  "Yes, I am, in a few months."

  "Congratulations. She's a lucky woman. Look at you. You're this handsome, successful businessman."

  "Thank you, but I feel like the lucky one. Nina is a terrific woman. I think you would like her, Precious."

  "I'm sure I would. Maybe one day you two can come over for dinner."

  "That's an excellent idea. But let's do one better. This time you can come over to my place for dinner. I'll set that up with Nina and give you a call."

  "Definitely. I'll also speak to my attorney and get back to you with a price."

  "Great. I look forward to seeing you again. Have a good night."

  "You too." I felt some kinda way when Jamal revealed he was engaged, almost jealous. Maybe it was because I felt he was about to embark on the life that I was supposed to share with Supreme. Whatever it was, I had to admit it made me curious. I was interested in meeting the woman who had stolen my first's heart. Besides, letting Jamal and his fiancee play host and getting Supreme's business in order would keep my mind occupied, and hopefully dissuade my potential deadly infatuation with Pretty Boy Mike.

  6 Ve t~ (4ayz d Ve t~

  For the next few weeks, I kept going back and forth with my attorney regarding what type ofmoneyAtomic Records should be bringing to the table, and if I should shop to other places in order to start a bidding war for Supreme's music. Between that, I avoided Mike's calls because I hadn't quite figured out how to deal with our undeniable attraction. I did need him as a source of information to see if he heard about any moves Nico was making, but I wasn't sure I could trust the feedback. Mike wasn't the type of man that could be handled with kid gloves, and until I determined how to make him work for me and not against me, I decided to keep him at arms length.

  Later on that day, I had a doctor's appointment in Midtown. I scheduled a meeting with a top-notch plastic surgeon to have reconstructive surgery done on the scar left on my chest from the bullet, courteous of Nico. The physician who made the original incision did an excellent job, but why not make it less noticeable if possible? After my consultation and setting up the actual date for the surgery, I decided to stop off at my favorite Dominican chicken and rice spot in Washington Heights. I double-parked and flicked on my hazardous lights before running in the joint. After about five minutes they handed me my order, and when I walked out the door this dude smacked right into me. "Excuse me, ma, I'm so sorry," he said, picking up the bag of food he caused me to drop.

  "Damn, is my food straight?"

  "Yeah, luckily it's tightly sealed. Ain't nothin' come out of place." The stranger handed me back my bag and apologized again before going in the Dominican spot. I was just relieved I didn't have to go back inside and stand in that line again.

  "Shit, some stupid motherfucker blocking me in. Now I gotta wait for the person to come back, so I can pull out this bitch," I vented out loud. I sat in my car, rolled down the window and listened to my Nas mixtape CD. Five minutes later the same dude that bumped me came out of the restaurant and approached the car blocking me in-he was the driver.

  "Damn, ma, you must be sick of me. First the food, now I'm holding you up. My fault." Whatever nigga, I thought to myself, just move yo'shit.

  "No problem," I lied. After the stranger moved his car, I pulled off, and before long I was on the George Washington Bridge heading back to Jersey. By the time I got on Route 17 North heading towards Saddle River, the normally smooth ride in my Benz was feeling rather shaky. Part of me wanted to keep going, but another part of me didn't want to take any chances. It was getting dark, and I had to go up those long winding roads to get to the estate. I reasoned it was better to get off and stop at a gas station to have my tires checked. I got off at the first exit that had a gas station. The sign indicated it was two miles away but because I was being cautious and driving slowly it seemed like twenty miles.

  "What the fuck!" I screamed when out the blue, a car smashed me from behind. I was so busy looking at the signs that I hadn't noticed a car was even behind me. For the first time I was regretting that I had even allowed myself to drive today. Nathan begged me to use the driver, but being the independent bitch that I am, I wanted to drive myself. Now here I was in the middle of a dark-ass road with a fucked up tire and some silly fuck who just hit the back of my car.

  I saw a man step out his car but because it was now dark and there were no street lights, I couldn't get a clear view of his face. I started to reach for the glove compartment to get my gun, because the situation was feeling all wrong to me. But it was too late. When our eyes locked, I realized it was the same dude that bumped into me at the Dominican restaurant. He gave me the most sinister grin as he used a hammer to bust open my window. I turned my body toward the passenger seat as the glass shattered.

  "Bitch, where you think yo' ass goin'?" he said, grabbing my hair. He held my hair in a firm grip as he pushed my entire body to the passenger side and he sat in the driver's seat. He slammed the door and tossed down the hammer and pulled out a huge sharp knife.

  "What the fuck, you tryna rob me. You followed me all the way from the Heights for some money? If that's what you after, I'll get you money, but you need to put that fuckin' knife away.

  "Bitch, you about to die, and still poppin' all that shit."

  "Die, what the fuck you wanna kill me for? I don't even know you." My mind was spinning wondering if this was some beef haunting me from the past.

  "Yeah, but you knew my cousins."

  "Yo' cousins, who the fuck is yo' cousins?"

  "You don't remember when you shot B-Boy and his brother? Them my cousins. You a trife bitch. First you try to take down Nico, and then you kill my people."

  "I don't kn
ow what the fuck you talkin' `bout, you got the wrong bitch." At this moment all I was trying to do was buy time. The nigga had a knife to my neck, but I had my girl in the glove compartment. I had been in enough jams to know that it's the one who moves the fastest that lives the longest. Right now he had the upper hand.

  "Don't try that slick shit wit' me. I know who the fuck you is. But yo' death ain't gonna be quick like theirs. Nah, no guns, baby girl, I got this knife so I can slice you up real nice. Pretty soon you'll be able to join your dead husband in hell. But before that, I'm gonna enjoy torturing you. You see that road off to the side? We're going to park the car over there so people can't see us from this here street."

  "Then what?" I questioned, keeping him running off at the mouth as I plotted my next move.

  "I'm going to tie you up and toss yo' ass in the trunk of my car. Take you to a special place where I can fuck you up and no one can hear your screams." I knew I had to act fast. Once my hands were tied up it was a wrap. On the floor under me, I eyed my alligator purse with the steel clasp sitting on top of my bag of food. It was a long shot, but if I was going to die, I would go out fighting. The only advantage I had was that he believed I was unarmed and he was the only one with access to a weapon. Because of that he would be a little bit more lax.

  "That's fucked up. So your plan is to torture and then kill me. I never intended on killing your cousins. The whole situation just got out of hand. I'm sure we can work this out." I was keeping the conversation flowing as my mind was preparing for the great escape.

  "You being awfully calm for a bitch that's about to get it, but we wasting time here sitting and talking `bout this shit." The dude was becoming animated with his hands as I got him talking more.

  "Well, I guess we betta break out, so you can get this shit over wit," I said moving my head back, so the knife wouldn't be directly under my neck.

  "I guess so." The nigga still had a firm grip on my hair, but for a brief moment he relaxed the hand that was holding the knife. I knew it was now or never. With quickness I bent down my head and bit as hard as I could into the flesh of his hand. The pain was so excruciating that he let go of the knife. I couldn't see where the knife fell, so with one hand I grabbed my purse with the steel side upward and bashed it over the dude's mouth. The skin above his lip opened and blood started squirting out from the gash. With the pain from his hand and now his face growing stronger, he let go of my hair to stop the blood. By this time, I reached inside the glove compartment to retrieve my gun.