Hassan Clarke
I was beyond pissed; how could I be so freaking stupid, leaving the receipt for Destiny to find…And as always, she showed up and showed her ass, in front of my clients. That bitch made the worst mistake of her life. It’s one thing to confront me, but when she starts fucking with my money, it’s a new ball game.
I decided to call it a day after a few hours. I was too upset to handle any kind of business. Going home was out of the question, because I might beat that bitch up if she comes at me with any more drama. I decided to drop by to see Imani and my son. She left work in a rush today; I knew it had something to do with Destiny showing her ass earlier. I had so much on my mind; it’s like my mind was racing, I wanted it all to end. I plan to go see a divorce lawyer tomorrow; it was time to get this miserable-ass bitch out of my life for good.
As I pulled on Imani’s street and close to her address, I saw her car pull in, and another car pulled up beside her. I watched as she got out and a dude in the other car also exited his vehicle. They walked together, she opened the door and they went inside.
I tried to call her phone, but I got no response. I wondered who the fuck that nigga was? I wanted to knock on her door, but the lawyer in me told me not to. I waited for about twenty minutes before the nigga came out the house. As he walked toward his car, I noticed his face looked familiar. When he got close enough, I realized I did know him; it was my right-hand man Corey….I was really thrown off, what was Corey doing coming out of Imani’s house? If I recalled correctly, he never liked her. As a matter of fact, he used to tell me how she was a freak and she couldn't keep her legs closed. So I was sitting there, wondering when they became friends.
I was tempted to jump out and beat his ass, but that nigga might be strapped; instead, I waited for him to pull off, then I walked to the door and rang the doorbell.
“Hey babe,” she looked surprised.
“Hey yourself. Listen, this is strange; I could have sworn I seen my old partner pulling out of the parking space.”
“Really? That is strange,” she said.
“Bitch, why you lying?” I slapped her in the face.
“What the hell you just hit me for?” She lunged toward me.
I pushed her down on the sofa.
“I’ma ask again. What was Corey doing up in here?”
“Baby, I don't know what you talking about. I swear,” she cried.
I knew that bitch was standing in front of me lying; she must’ve thought I was a fool.
I walked up to her, grabbed her by the throat and applied pressure.
“Get off my Moms,” Josiah’s voice echoed.
I was too caught up in the moment; I didn't even hear when he entered the house. I looked at him and noticed he had his fist balled up. I then looked back at his mother; it was a no way out situation for me, so I let go and pushed her away from me.
“You want me to call 911 for you?”
“No baby, just go to your room.”
I looked at that bitch lying on the sofa holding her face; I walked up to her and looked her dead in the eyes.
“You fucking dead to me. All the shit I did for you and you had that fuck nigga up in here. Bitch, fuck you.” I spit dead on that bitch.
“Baby, I swear, I don't know where he was coming from. I swear on my dead Momma’s grave…”
I walked out before her ass finished her sentence. I hurriedly walked to my car, because I wasn’t sure that bitch wouldn’t call the police.
I hit my steering wheel as I backed out of the parking space and raced down the street. There was nowhere for me to go, since I didn't plan on going to the house.
***
I decided to stop at the liquor store at 241st Street and Wakefield Avenue and grab me a bottle of Crown Royal. I needed something strong to drown out this pain I was feeling inside.
My mind traveled back years ago; there was a rumor going around that Imani and Corey fucked around, but I ain’t paid that shit no mind. I wondered how long they’ve been fucking around. That nigga and that bitch were lucky that I left the streets alone. Back in the day, I would’ve murked that nigga for violating me, but I got too much money and a life ahead of me to fuck up over one piece of pussy. I ain’t goin’ lie though; that bitch had my mind all the way fucked up.
I paid for a room at the Days Inn on Baychester Avenue. I took the bottle to the head; I was fuming with anger and rage. No other bitch had ever tried me like this and the one bitch that I love is a fucking whore!
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Destiny Clarke
I've learned early on, not to trust man. After getting raped as a child, I knew men were monsters and they could not be trusted. Finally, I found this one dude that I thought would do right by me, because I stood by him through thick and thin, good or bad. I soaked it up and played my position. I was the one that helped this bum to make something of himself and this was how he repaid me. I shook my head; I was disgusted.
I was on my way to see the private investigator. He called last night asking me to meet him at his office this morning. I stayed up all night; my mind was racing. I wanted to know what he’s been up to, but at the same time I wasn’t ready to face the music. I rang the doorbell and he buzzed me in.
“Good morning Mrs. Clarke, you look beautiful as usual.”
“Thank you.”
I sat across from him, and the anticipation was definitely killing me.
“Okay, I’m not going to keep you waiting, but I must tell you; some of the things I'm about to share with you is deep. Your husband has been a very busy man.”
“Like I told you before, I'm grown. I can handle whatever it is that you found out,” I said in a serious tone.
I sat quietly as he read a list of things he found out. The main thing that he grabbed my attention was when he mentioned Hassan has a fourteen-year-old son. The same fucking age as Amaiya. I sat in my seat frozen, as the tears started to flow.
“Mrs. Clarke, are you okay? I can stop if you want me to.”
I took a few minutes to get my emotions under control, and then I spoke, “No, I'm fine. Please continue, sir.”
He placed a stack of pictures in front of me. I paused; I was feeling scared of what I was about to see. I swallowed hard and reached over to grab the pictures. In front of me, was my husband; with his secretary? Yes, the fucking office bitch that I had a bad feeling about. The other pictures were of him and a little bitch he brought to the house. There were pictures of him and random women. All these pictures were taken within a two-week time frame. More tears fell as I sat there staring at the pictures.
“Mr. Spencer, how much do I owe you? And please put all the evidence in one envelope for me; I have to find a divorce lawyer ASAP.”
“Sure, I understand. My fee is thirty-five hundred dollars and I have a colleague who is a great divorce lawyer. Trust me; call him and he'll take good care of you. Please do me one favor though.”
“And what is that?” I asked, as I wrote the check.
“Don't do anything stupid. Let the courts handle it.”
I smiled at him, handed him the check and grabbed the envelope. “Thank you Mr. Spencer.” I put my glasses on and walked out of his office.
I sat in my car with my head resting on my steering wheel. I felt like someone took something sharp and stabbed into my chest. I screamed out, as the pain became unbearable. “Lord, give me the strength. I know I've done some things in my life, but God, I didn't deserve this,” I whispered.
After sitting there feeling sorry for myself, I regained a little bit of courage. I started the car and drove off.
***
I didn't feel like cooking, so I ordered pizza and hot wings for Amaiya. I didn't have an appetite, so I made me a cup of herbal tea and called it a night, even though it was only 7 p.m.
Now that I had all the information I needed, it was time for me to do something about it. Tomorrow I was going to call the lawyer, it was time to get this bum ass nigga out of my life, o
nce and for all.
Imani Gibson
I done got my ass into some shit I have no idea how to get out of. I didn't know Hassan was going to show up so early. He surprised me when he asked about Corey. My ass had to think fast. There was no way I was going to confess to him, hell no; I was taking that shit to my grave.
That nigga crossed the line when he put his hands on me. This was the man that I loved. How could he do me like that? And to disrespect me by spitting in my face? That shit hurts my soul.
After he left, my son ran to me. "Ma, you alright? I don't know why you even deal with him," he said to me with an attitude.
"I'm fine and don't talk like that. He is your father."
"Father? Ma, all he do is drop off money. He ‘ont spend no time with me."
“Josiah, shut your mouth. He your daddy and he loves you. Don’t you talk like that.”
“Aiight Ma,” he said, before he stormed off to his room.
I got up off the couch and went to the bathroom to wash the spit off my face. I looked in the mirror and that's when I busted out crying. How he could hetreat me like this, after all I've been through with him, I thought. I slowly knelt down by the tub, crying my heart out. The intensity of the pain ripped through my broken soul.
I cried until the tears stop flowing; I was all cried out. I got up and stumbled to my room, too distraught to take off my clothes, so I just lay across the bed. My mind wandered around; I twisted and turned, too restless to close my eyes. I got up, went to the kitchen, poured me a glass of wine and drank it in one big gulp, and then I walked back into my room.
“Damn you Hassan,” I screamed out…I laid there sobbing until I dozed off.
I was up bright and early the next morning. I was still hurting from the incident last night, but I was in a different frame of mind. I got up and made breakfast for Josiah, before he left for school. My apartment looked a hot mess, so I decided to clean up my apartment. Ever since I was a little girl, whenever I was upset I would start cleaning. I turned on the stereo, put in Melanie Fiona’s CD and pressed repeat. “Oh yeah. I've got trouble with my friends, trouble in my life. Problems when you don't come home at night, but when you do you always start a fight.” I sang the song over and over. Something about the words gave me a bit of a boost. I dried my eyes and smiled. “Hassan, you’re going to regret fucking me over,” I uttered to myself.
***
Lately, I haven’t been feeling well. I thought it was food poisoning until I went to the emergency room. After taking a pregnancy test, the doctor told me I was pregnant.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yes ma’am. Congratulations.”
I sat there with my head hung low. Now it made sense; all the headaches and the nausea was because I was knocked up.
“Are you okay?” the doctor asked.
“Yes, just a little surprised, that's all.” I smiled at her.
Soon as she left out of the room, I put on my clothes in a rush and left behind her. I didn’t wait to sign my release paper or anything, shit they already had my insurance information.
I was not only surprised; I was devastated. Soon as the bitch mentioned pregnant, my mind rushed back to two weeks ago when I had sex with Corey and he bust inside of me. Not again God, I thought. Things were already bad enough, and now this bullshit. I try to recall the last time I had sex with Hassan, and I believe it was the day before Corey and I fucked. A broad smile came over my face, as a thought popped in my head. “Gotcha,” I said as I drove down White Plains Road.
Soon as I got home, I dialed Hassan’s number. He had it turned off, because it kept on going to voicemail and I kept pressing redial. My happiness quickly turned to anger. He barely turns his phone off, so I knew he was on some bullshit. What if something was wrong with me and his child? Since he didn’t pick up, I dialed his bitch’s number. Yes, I had the new number; after Charmaine told me she changed her number, I searched Hassan’s phone and got the new number. Each time she picked up, I just held the phone and breathed hard. The last time she picked up, the bitch got bold. “Listen to me little bitch, whoever you are, stop calling my fucking phone. If you're looking for Hassan, call his fucking phone,” the bitch yelled in my ear and then hung up.
I was heated as hell, because I didn’t get any words in, so I dialed her number again, but she didn't pick up. I decided to shoot her a text. “Bitch please, just because you're married to him on paper doesn’t mean you own him. He is mine believe that.”
“Who the hell is this?” She text back.
“Your worst fucking nightmare bitch. He don’t love you, he's only there because you got the money.”
“Ha-ha, you must be the whore that he's been fucking. I know who the fuck you are, you that piece of shit, so-called secretary. Listen to me, you earth disturbing bitch, you can never be me; just because he is fucking you, don’t think you’re special. Trust me; his cock is community property. Now leave me the hell alone before I get your ass for harassment.”
My blood pressure was rising, that’s how mad I was. She had no idea that I would trample her ass. I guess I’ll have to show her ass how Bronx bitches got down.
These hoes always screaming they are the wives, but what they don't understand is, just because you're married to him on paper, that doesn't mean you own him. Hassan was my man and I swear this bitch will find out soon enough.
***
Soon as Josiah got into the bed, I jumped up and got dressed in an all-black velour suit. I tied my hair up with my black scarf, and then grabbed the biggest knife in the kitchen and the small hammer that I kept under the sink. I pulled up at their residence and looked around. There was no one outside, so I parked at the side and sneaked up to the driveway. His car was the first one I tackled; busting his window out, and then slashed his tires. I then made my move to that bitch’s car. Each time I broke her window; in my mind, I was imagining breaking that hoe’s neck. All it took was about five minutes to wreak havoc on these motherfuckers that caused me pain. After I was finished, I ran down the driveway, jumped into my car and sped off. I laughed my ass off, as I drove down the street. I wish I could be present when they realized their shit was fucked up.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Destiny Clarke
After I spoke to the lawyer that Mr. Spencer gave me, I felt much better. I gave him all the evidence that I had on Hassan. The lawyer told me we needed to find out everything about him and his finances, so he suggested hiring a forensic accountant to dig deep into Hassan’s finances. This was great, because whatever money he was hiding, would be found.
***
When I got home from the lawyer’s office, I noticed Hassan’s car was parked in the driveway.
“What are you doing in my house?”
“I live here, you know that right?” he asked.
“I don't give a damn about that anymore. I want you out,” I yelled.
“Like I said, I'm not going anywhere. You're my fucking wife, so act like you know it.”
“Ha-ha, you’re a cheater and a liar. I wonder what I saw in you,” I spat.
He stepped aggressively toward me, and I took two steps back.
“You know what, Hassan? That bitch should have killed your ass when she was pregnant with you,” I snapped.
“Watch your mouth B.” He continued coming closer to me.
I backed into the kitchen and took a quick glance of my surroundings.
“Like I told you, I’m done with you. I want you out of my life for good.”
“Bitch and I told your ass, I ain’t going nowhere. You heard me clearly,” he yelled and lunged toward me.
I backed into the cupboard and grabbed my butcher knife.
“You better back the hell up, before I slice you in pieces.”
“Bitch, fuck you; I don't care nothing about that.”
“Try me, you bum. Try me!” I pointed the knife at him.
He stood there looking like a savage animal, trying to attack his prey. He must ha
ve noticed that I wasn't backing down; he looked at me and smiled.
“Bitch, I got you.” He turned and walked away.
I waited five minutes and when I felt the coast was clear, I ran upstairs to my bedroom and locked my door. There was no way I was going to be in the same room as this man.
***
Last night was a fucking nightmare; after that altercation with Hassan, I thought I could get a little rest, but it didn’t happen. Hassan’s hoe called my phone, see this bitch had nothing better to do than play on my damn phone. I didn’t have time for this stupid hoe; I was too old to be playing phone games. The next time that bitch called or texted me, I was prepared to call the police and press charges on her.
I got up and went outside to warm up the car, and got the shock of my life. All my car windows, along with Hassan’s car windows were busted out and our tires were slashed.
“Fuck,” “I yelled as I walked back into the house.
“What’s wrong?” Amaiya asked.
“Some dumb ass done slash my tires and bust my windows out.”
“What?” she said and ran outside.
I grabbed my phone and dialed the police, and then I walked upstairs to the guest room where Hassan has been sleeping. I tried to open the door, but he had it locked from the inside. I banged on the door, but he didn't say anything.
“Open the got damn door.” I banged harder.
“Man, what is it?” he opened the door.
“The police are on their way ‘cause one of your whores done slashed my tires and busted out my windows.”
My Husband's Whore Page 10