I swallowed hard when I saw they were all from Kingston. Thankfully, I had given him a nickname. Mercy. That was the name of one of the artists I wanted to sign to my label, but he chose to go elsewhere. Little did he know, his name still came in handy.
“I…I didn’t go through your phone,” Germaine stuttered curiously. “Is there a reason I should’ve?”
“I just don’t want you snooping through my things.”
“Again, is there a reason I should? You’re my wife. I’m your husband. We don’t have secrets. Right?”
You may not have any, but I have a slew of them. “Can you leave me alone so that I can get dressed?”
Germaine gave me an uneasy and unpleasant stare as he walked out of the bathroom. I cursed myself for leaving my phone on the kitchen table in the first place. I was never that careless. After he left, I hurried to the door and locked it. I was eager to talk to Kingston because it had been a week since I last spoke with him. I pressed the number two key on my phone and waited anxiously for him to pick up.
“Why in the hell are you not answering my texts or calls?” Kingston demanded as soon as he answered.
“Well…” I started before he interrupted me.
“There’s a wrecker service on Brittmore Road. Be there within the hour.”
While Kingston was talking, Germaine was yelling something to me through the bathroom door. I ignored him to focus on Kingston’s words instead.
“Wrecker service? Brittmore Road?” I questioned in a low tone. “You’re in Houston? What’s going on?”
“There’s no time for all the questions, Niquole. Get on the road.”
“I don’t know where Brittmore Road is.”
“Don’t you have a GPS in your car? Use it,” he replied before hanging up.
My mind was going a million miles per minute as I wondered why he would possibly need me to meet him at a junkyard. I blushed at the thought of him wanting to try something kinky and different since we hadn’t seen each other in a while. When I finally heard Germaine walk away from the door, I quickly dried off then ran to my room and slipped on a pink velour Juicy jogging suit along with some tennis shoes. After that was done, I raced out of the house without telling Germaine anything. When I made it outside, I realized there was no need to say goodbye because his truck was gone. I also realized that I wasn’t dressed for the weather, but I didn’t have time to run back inside the house and change. At just the end of June, it was hot as hell. Obviously the other summer months were going to be brutal. I hopped in my car, tapped in the directions to the wrecker service on my Navigation system and drove to my destination with the AC on full blast.
****
The forty-five minute drive seemed endless, but I eventually made it to the salvage yard. When I pulled into the gate, I glanced at the hours of operation and saw that the yard was closed on Sunday, so I quickly wondered how and why Kingston wanted to meet at such a strange place. However, I quickly brushed it off. I drove around and through a number of wrecked and crushed cars until I saw three Navigators parked in front of a blue, rusted garage
“What in the hell do you have up your sleeve, Kingston?” I mumbled to myself after pulling on the side of the SUVs. I grabbed my phone from the passenger seat and called him. “Baby, I’m here,” I spoke when he answered. “What’s going on?”
“Come in and see,” he replied before hanging up.
I stepped out of my car and walked toward the doors. I then stopped in my tracks when I saw the dark skinned, burly guy from the hotel in Waco standing outside the door as if he was guarding or protecting what or who was inside. I wanted to know what was going on and why he was there. He nodded at me with a hard, stern look on his face then opened the door for me to go inside. I walked past him slowly, but never took my eyes off of him until I heard my man’s voice.
“Hey,” Kingston addressed me.
“Hey,” I smiled curiously. “What’s going on?” I asked, while glancing around the musty smelling garage. “Wasn’t that the so-called bartender from Homewood Suites?” I asked looking back to find the man.
“Yeah, that’s him.”
“W…What is he doing here?” I stammered, thinking awful thoughts after finding out that the door had been closed behind me.
“Don’t worry about him, Niquole,” Kingston replied. “I’ve got a surprise for you. Why are you wearing that hot ass sweat suit?” he teased then eyed me up and down. “Don’t you know it’s gonna be in the triple digits today and probably the rest of the summer?”
“I was trying to get out of the house as fast as I could. I didn’t have time to…”
“No need to explain,” Kingston interrupted. “I need for you to confirm something for me.”
“Confirm what?” I asked as he led me further inside the grimy garage.
“Is that him?”
“Is who who?” I reiterated.
I turned in the direction he was pointing and gasped when I saw Hummer tied to a chair. When he saw me, his eyes widened in disbelief and shock. He remembered me. I could only imagine what was going through his mind at that moment knowing that what he tried to do to me at the party was the reason he was probably tied up.
“Kingston, what in the hell are you doing?” I gasped.
“Is this the muthafucka, Niquole?”
I stared at Hummer who was trying hard to hold back his frightened tears. His hands were tied behind his back and his mouthed was covered with tape.
“Is that him?” Kingston raised his voice.
I glanced around the garage and saw a few more men standing around waiting for Kingston’s signal to demolish Hummer. Then I glanced back at Kingston and quickly wondered what I had gotten myself into.
“Niquole, is this the nigga?” he asked again. “I know it’s him, but I just need you to confirm.”
“H…How did you find him?” I questioned in disbelief.
“Don’t worry about all of that. Is this the nigga that tried to get at you?” Kingston asked.
I glanced back up at Hummer who was pleading to me with his eyes as he struggled to free himself. If he wasn’t in any pain, he surely looked uncomfortable.
“Baby, I can’t let you do this,” I addressed Kingston.
Kingston smiled. “I’m not gonna kill him, Niquole. Didn’t you want Germaine to beat his ass?”
“Yes, but…”
“Well, I’m gonna do what he didn’t do,” Kingston said as he caressed my cheeks and kissed me on the forehead. “Did you ever wonder why your bitch-ass husband didn’t beat his ass?”
I was too stunned to answer him. Moments later, Kingston nodded at his boys and I knew that was the signal for them to take turns using Hummer as a punching bag. Before they could do so, I ran to Hummer and stood in front of him.
“Kingston, please don’t do this!”
He waved his boys away and walked up to me. He could see the fear on my face and the scared, guilty, apologetic look on Hummer’s. Kingston pulled me into his arms then whispered in my ear, “For you, I won’t let them beat him,” he spoke then kissed my cheek.
“Thank you,” I said and blew a sigh of relief.
“Muthafucka, she just saved you from an ass whooping,” he addressed Hummer.
I couldn’t see Hummer’s face, but I’m sure he released a sigh of relief as well. I wrapped my arms around Kingston to let him know how thankful I was. Although I was pissed at what Hummer did to me, Kingston looked as if he was there to do far more damage than what I expected.
Kingston squeezed me tighter into his chest with his left arm. It felt as if he was showing me sincerity in regards to his decision to not have Hummer mauled, but instead, he showed me something totally different and unexpected. I jumped when I suddenly heard a gunshot.
Kingston placed his left hand on the back of my head and pressed my face to his chest so that I couldn’t turn around and see what he’d done. “I couldn’t let that muthafucka get away with it. I protect mine, Niquole,” he said
then kissed me again.
I couldn’t believe that he’d killed a man in my presence. My body began trembling uncontrollably as Kingston quickly walked me out of the garage. I watched as he tossed the gun in his SUV, then escort me to my car as if everything was okay. He unzipped my jacket in an attempt to remove it, but I stopped him.
“What are you doing?” I asked in panic mode.
“You have some blood on your jacket, baby. I’ll get rid of it while I’m getting rid of him.”
I didn’t budge. I wanted him to know that I didn’t want his hands on me…not now anyway. Besides, I was still in a state of shock.
“I…I…I don’t have a…any…thing under here,” I stuttered.
“It’s cool. Just make sure you get rid of it. Damn!” Kingston cursed after noticing a few blood splatters on his burnt orange linen shirt. He removed the shirt before tucking it under his arm. “Trust me, in a few days, you’ll be over this,” he spoke then helped me in my car. “You didn’t see any of it. As far as you’re concerned, it never happened. Now, go to the studio and get yourself together before you go home. I’ve got some cleaning up to do. Don’t look so shocked. I’ve shown and proved to you before that I take care of mine.”
When he spoke those words, any and everything else that clouded my mind disappeared. “What did you say?” I asked, needing confirmation.
His? I questioned to myself. What did he mean by that? Was that his way of telling me that he loved me?
“I don’t do shit like this just for anyone, Niquole. Like I told you inside, I protect mine,” Kingston said then blew me a kiss with those LL Cool J lips. “Niquole, get rid of the jacket,” he ordered before walking back inside the garage.
Why am I not calling the cops? I questioned myself. Better yet, why am I not crying? Even worse than that, why is the shock quickly wearing off of my body? I knew why. He and I were connected in more ways than one.
As I drove to the studio, my phone rang. I didn’t want to answer it because I was still thinking about what Kingston had just done and said to me. However, whoever was calling was adamant about reaching me because the phone kept ringing. I snatched it off the passenger seat and answered the call.
“Have you lost your fucking mind? I’m happy that I just ran up the street to CVS for my damn cigarettes!” Germaine screamed into the phone nearly bursting my eardrum. “I hope whatever it is you’re doing is fucking important!” he continued.
“I don’t have time for this, Germaine. What are you talking about?”
“You left the damn kids in the fucking house by themselves! John John was screaming to the top his lungs when I got back!”
“Oh my God! I thought you took them with you!” I spoke frantically.
“How in the hell could you have thought that? You didn’t even bother to check! I told you I was running to the store, but I guess you were too busy on the fucking phone to hear that part!”
“You always have them so I didn’t think this time was any different.”
“Well, you thought wrong. Next time check before you jump to conclusions! What kind of fucking mother are you?” Germaine asked.
He hung up. Seconds later, my phone rang again. It was my mother. “What do you want?” I answered.
“Why in the hell did you leave the boys at home by themselves? What in the hell were you doing that made you forget them?”
“None of your fucking business!”
Click. I turned the phone off. That incident alone was a sure sign that I was in over my head with Kingston
CHAPTER 7
“Niquole, your lunch is here,” Meagan said through the speakerphone. She’d interrupted my thoughts of Kingston’s actions just two days before.
“Okay. Bring it in,” I replied back.
“What did you order today? It smells good,” Meagan said when she stepped inside my office seconds later.
“For some reason, I’ve got this craving for Chinese food,” I replied.
“You’re not pregnant are you?”
I looked up at the blonde, wannabe black chic and frowned. “Girl, if something creeps inside of me right now, the only people who will know about it are me, the doctor and God,” I laughed. She joined in on the laughter. “You can have some if you’d like. I’m sure there’s more than enough,” I said admiring the red, purple and black maxi dress and stiletto heels that added four inches to her five-foot-six frame. “I’ve got some sesame chicken, shrimp and cabbage, a few fried wontons and egg rolls,” I listed, then skimmed through the bag as if I’d forgotten what I ordered.
“That sounds like a meal for four,” Meagan said. “Are you expecting company?”
“If I were expecting company, do you think I would’ve offered you any of the food?” I joked. “Whatever I don’t eat is going home to John John. He loves Chinese food. Do you want any?”
“Thanks, but no thanks,” she declined. “I have a few errands to run before I get ready for the party tonight. Is it okay if I take off a few hours early?”
“As long as I don’t have to take care of any messages or emails, you can take off.”
“You know I’ve taken care of all of that,” Meagan replied in a tone letting me know that she was good at her job. Hell, she was. Ever since hiring her a month after Nathan was born, she’d shown and proved to be a very valuable asset to my label.
“It’s kind of quiet out there,” I spoke referring to the noise that I wasn’t hearing in the halls.
“Everyone’s in the conference room.”
“For what?”
“They wanted to hear Fortunes sing a few tunes.”
“Tell those girls they better not fuck their voices up before the album release party tonight,” I joked.
“I know, right? So, are you ready for that?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Fortunes is gonna make men fall to their knees and beg to eat pussy.”
Meagan smiled. “You’re off the chain, Niquole, but I think you’re right. The producers wrote some great tracks for them.”
“I know. I got teary-eyed on a couple of them.”
“Yeah, right,” she laughed. “I don’t think you can produce tears.”
“You’ve got a point,” I replied thinking about the tears that I tried to make fall after Kingston murdered Hummer. “Meagan, before you go, I need to talk to you about something,” I added when I saw her do a ballerina twirl and start toward the door.
“What’s up?”
“Close the door.”
She did as advised. “What’s going on?” Meagan asked curiously after tossing her straight, blond hair over her shoulders.
I reached inside my desk drawer and pulled out a brand new black Louis Vuitton L’Absolu, leather bag with the tag still attached. I placed it on top of my desk and pushed it toward her.
“This is for you. I had it delivered today.”
“Are you serious? This is what the FedEx guy dropped off today?”
“Yeah.”
Meagan shook her head. “What is this for? I don’t understand.”
“I can’t tell you now, but you’ll know what it’s for when and if something happens.”
I had a funny feeling down in the pit of my stomach that Kingston would be making unexpected visits to the studio after what happened and I needed to make sure I had all of my ducks in a row.
Meagan gently clutched the bag then stared at me after looking at the price. “You paid thirty-five hundred bucks for this bag?” she asked shockingly. “Are you in some kind of trouble or something?”
“No. No, it’s nothing like that.” I smiled halfheartedly then tried to hide the worried look on my face.
“I can’t accept this. This is too much,” Meagan said as she pushed the bag back to me. “It feels like a bribe to keep me quiet about something. If you’re in trouble, you don’t have to bribe me. You’re my friend. I’ll do anything for you.”
“Thanks, Meagan.” I smiled. “Just take the bag anyway. I know how much you love pu
rses.”
“That’s true, but you’ve got to tell me what’s going on.” She took a seat in one of the burgundy and pewter, barrel shaped chairs in front of my desk. She then crossed her legs as if to say, she wasn’t going anywhere until I told her something.
“Meagan, it’s none of your business. I just need to know if you have my back if some shit pops off.”
“Okay, Niquole, you’re really starting to scare me,” she replied. “Does it have anything to do with the label? Germaine? The boys? Your health?”
“Look,” I huffed letting her know that she was irritating me, “I don’t need this right now. I’ve got enough shit on my mind and I don’t need you drilling me about any of it.”
When Meagan saw my reaction and heard the tension in my voice, she knew not to ask anymore questions.
“Okay. I’ll see you later,” Meagan said before standing up. She clutched her new bag then left.
In the few months that I’d known her, Meagan had never given or caused me any trouble, so I knew that she would have my back.
I opened the brown, paper bag and soaked in the aroma of the sesame chicken and shrimp. I was famished, and couldn’t open the bag fast enough. When that task was finally done, I ripped open the soy sauce and poured it all over the food then dove into it. While eating and staring around my pewter glazed office, Kingston’s actions crept back into my mind. I wondered if it bothered him that I hadn’t freaked out as any other normal woman would’ve done after practically witnessing a murder. What if our little secret would bring us even closer together? I was so wrapped in my thoughts that I didn’t hear or see Germaine walk inside the office moments later.
“We need to talk,” he spoke sternly after sitting down in front of me.
“Couldn’t this wait until I got home? I’m trying to have lunch,” I pouted.
“If it could’ve, I wouldn’t be here right now.”
I pushed my food away and leaned back in my high-back, leather executive chair. I then folded my arms across my chest and waited for what he had to say. Before he could begin, Meagan reentered my office. Germaine flinched a little when he heard her voice, but I didn’t think anything of it.
The Available Wife Page 6