Still Wifey Material Page 16

  “So how long has it been since y’all broke up?”

  “Five months. Right after I moved out the crib she and I had, I got this joint.”

  “Oh, OK.”

  It finally registered with me why he wanted to live alone. But then I wondered why he was so eager to let me stay with him, especially when he’d just gotten out of a relationship. I did know one thing at least. He couldn’t possibly be serious with another chick, because if he was, then he would not have asked me to come stay with him until I found a spot of my own. Knowing that I was probably the only chick in his life right then made me feel kind of special, and it gave me high hopes that maybe Nate and I could take this thing to another level. Shit, if everything worked out between us, there was a possibility that he might not want me to leave. I mean, I’d already proven to him that my pussy was good and that I liked to cook. I figured that all that was left for me to do was to keep playing the wifey role, and everything would fall into place.

  This Is Not a Game

  (Kira Speaks)

  Fatu and I had not spoken all day. I figured he must’ve been taking care of business, so I didn’t think to bother him until I realized that it was nine o’clock at night. Furious because I had been having some more uneasy feelings about him lately, I called him. “Where are you?” I asked without saying hello.

  “I’m home.”

  “What have you been doing all day?”

  “Taking care of business for the club.”

  “What are you doing at home then?”

  “I wanted to change clothes.”

  “What time are you going back to work?”

  “I’m not going back to work tonight.”

  “Well, where are you going?”

  “I was going to surprise you and take you out, but I’m going to have to make a quick run first.”

  “To where?” Fatu hesitated. “Fatu, where are you going?” I asked again.

  “I got to make a run by my cousin’s house to pick up some money.”

  I knew his ass was lying. He was going to see his bitch! Whether or not he knew it, I was going too. I played it off and acted like I was fine with him making the run to his cousin’s, and to add icing on the cake, I told him I loved him and that I’d be waiting. As soon as I hung up the phone, I grabbed my car keys and hauled ass to his apartment. The interstate was only three miles from my house, so I was on it in a matter of ninety seconds flat.

  “Move the fuck out of the way!” I screamed at cars in front of me. My nerves unraveled as I dipped in and out of traffic. What bothered me the most was how fast my heart was beating. It felt like it was about to burst out of my damn chest, but somehow I managed to focus on my driving.

  About thirty minutes later I pulled up on the side of Fatu’s building’s parking lot. Since it had only been thirty minutes since I’d spoken to him, I figured he might not have left yet. I waited. After about ten minutes I saw Hakim, one of the valet guys, pull Fatu’s car around to the front of the building.

  “Yes!” I said aloud. I hadn’t missed him at all. “A’ight, Kira, make sure you don’t get busted,” I mumbled, giving myself a pep talk. I needed to get my mind right. First, I had to be ready for whatever I was going to see, and second, I had to be ready to drive like a maniac to keep up with Fatu.

  When he finally came out of the building, I immediately looked at his attire. He was dressed in a regular black button-down shirt and a pair of black pants, and he didn’t look like he was about to go out on the town. As I watched him slide into his car, I readied myself to go on the most turbulent ride of my life. I felt like Danica Patrick, getting ready for the race of my life. Soon we were off. I allowed two cars to drive in front of me as I followed Fatu, but when we got onto Highway 10, I knew I had to pick up the pace. A couple of times I let him move ahead of me about a half mile, but that was only because I vowed that I wasn’t going to lose him.

  Twenty minutes later he got off the Louisiana Street exit and took it all the way down to a section in Houston called Westminster Estates. I had never been to this part of Houston before, but it was very upscale. Fatu drove into the posh community and I pulled alongside a curb and waited for a few minutes. I finally got up the nerve to drive into the community so I could see whom this bitch was that he was creeping with.

  About ten yards into the complex, I noticed that I was the only moving vehicle on the streets. Fatu’s Bentley was nowhere in sight. I made a right turn onto the next block, which happened to be Potluck Drive, and noticed his car parked on the right side of the street, just a few yards away from another car.

  “Cousin, my ass!” I said. My blood was boiling. I’d known he was lying, especially when he hesitated on the phone earlier. Not only that, I knew where all his cousins lived, and none of them were in this part of town. When we got off the Louisiana Street exit, I knew that Fatu had another agenda, and now I was about to find out who she was.

  I saw movement in Fatu’s car, but I couldn’t see exactly what he was doing. I turned off my headlights and turned into a nearby empty driveway. All the lights were out at the house, so I pulled up to the garage door, turned off my engine, and sat there for a second as if I lived there. I didn’t want to sit there too long because I knew if I did, I would draw attention to myself, so I looked over my shoulder to see what Fatu was doing, and when I saw that he was still sitting in his car, I stepped out of my car and acted as if I was about to go into the house. Thank God the front porch was built farther back from the garage, which meant that he wouldn’t be able to see me walk up to the front door. When I got out of sight, I stood behind the wall, panting like I had run the fifty-yard dash. I prayed that the owners of this home wouldn’t pull up anytime soon.

  I listened to the crickets make their mating calls. Other than that, the neighborhood was quiet. It was somewhat spooky, which made me immediately think about that serial killer I heard about on the news. I got an uneasy feeling because I really didn’t like being in the position I was in. Fatu wasn’t aware that I was out there with him, so if someone decided to sneak up behind me and snatch me up, then I was going to be fucked up.

  I peeped around the corner of the house and saw Fatu standing outside his car, next to the driver’s side door, looking in the direction of a gray, stone-front house on the opposite side of the street. That must be where the chick lived! My heart raced like a horse. Before I could blink, this nigga walked across the street and across the lawn of the house, then disappeared down a walkway on the side of the house.

  “Check out this sneaky-ass nigga!” I whispered. As badly as I wanted to walk up on his ass and bust him, I convinced myself that it would be better if I gave him enough rope to hang himself. Niggas always found a way to get out of shit when you hadn’t actually caught them in the act. I wasn’t going to ruin it. I needed hardcore evidence, and there was no doubt in my mind that I was going to get it that night.

  “That no good motherfucker!” I growled. “And if he thinks that there’s going to be a wedding after this bullshit, he’s got another thing coming. Playing me like I’m some fucking joke! I mean, who the fuck does he think he is? But it’s all good. He’s going to definitely get what he’s got coming to his ass!”

  My blood pressure rose and I continued to rant to myself. As angry as I was, I started to rush up to the house and bang on the fucking door, but I held myself back. This neighborhood looked like it didn’t take too kindly to ghetto chicks such as myself. Besides, I couldn’t afford to get arrested for beating that bitch down. I went with plan B instead—to get that nigga on the phone and see how he would act around her.

  I fumbled with my cell phone and dialed Fatu’s number, but that motherfucker’s voice mail picked up on the first ring. “Wait one fucking minute! Now I know this nigga ain’t got his damn phone off. What kind of game is he playing? OK, now it’s on and popping!” I said before I stormed back to my car.

  Before I drove away from Potluck Drive, I rode right by Fatu’s car and snapped two
pictures of it with my Blackberry. I got a picture of his license plates, and then I took a picture of his car at an angle where that bitch’s house was in full view. I couldn’t see her house clearly because of how dark it was, but I could make out the distinctive stone pattern on the front of her home. I drove down the block and turned back around so I could leave out the way I came in.

  When I rode back by her house, I noticed that she had turned on her bedroom light and then she suddenly walked right by her window. My heart stopped and so did my car. From the little bit I saw of her, I could tell that she was light-skinned with big titties and a head full of weave. That wasn’t enough, though. I needed to get a better look at that ho. It was every woman’s wish to see what the next woman looked like. It was a form of closure for us.

  As I waited for her to come back past the window, the lights suddenly went off. I instantly had a meltdown and wanted to go to war. I clenched my fists and bit my bottom lip until I drew blood, but then I realized that running up in her house to whip their asses wasn’t worth it. However, I did feel the need to call Fatu’s phone again and leave him a nasty-ass message.

  “You think you’re so fucking slick, Fatu!” I yelled into my phone. “But I peeped your game out, nigga. You ’round here lying to me, telling me that you had to make a run over to your cousin’s house. Nigga, you ain’t went nowhere but to your bitch’s house. And I got proof, so don’t call me back with no lies, because it ain’t gon’ work this time. So do yourself a favor and stay with her, because I’m done with you. The wedding is off!” My voice screeched and then I hung up my phone. There was nothing left for me to do but carry my ass home.

  No Hard Feelings

  (Kira Speaks)

  When I got home, I immediately poured myself a shot of Patrón. I couldn’t bear the thought of Fatu fucking that bitch, or any other woman for that matter. I had literally gotten sick to my stomach and found myself walking back down the same road I went down a few times with Ricky. I remembered having these exact same feelings in the pit of my stomach. The feelings got so unbearable that I ended up pouring myself five more shots before the night was over, and then I crashed downstairs on my living room sofa.

  Riiing! Riiing! Riing! The telephone jerked me out of my coma-like sleep. I grabbed it and looked at the CallerID. It was Fatu. I ignored his call. I looked at the clock and realized I had slept past the time to open up the shop, but since Rachael had a key, I figured she’d be all right. I had to know if Nikki had brought her ass into work, so I called Rachael’s cell phone number. She answered on the second ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, girl, this is Kira.”

  “What’s up, girl? Where you at? I’ve been trying to call you. You got two clients in here waiting on you.”

  “I’m still at home. My ass had a rough night and I overslept.”

  “Well, what time are you coming in?”

  “I’m really not in any shape to come in, Rachael. I’ve got a slight hangover.”

  “Well, what do you want me to tell your clients?”

  “Tell ’em I’m sick and if they’d like, they can reschedule their appointments for tomorrow, or if you don’t mind, you could do them if you’re not booked up.”

  “Well, I only have two people in here myself, so it wouldn’t be a problem. But I’ll let them know what you said.”

  “Thanks, Rachael.”

  “You’re welcome, girl.”

  “Oh, yeah, Rachael, did Nikki come into the shop yet?”

  “Nope, and she hasn’t called either.”

  “All right. Well if she does come in or call, call me and let me know.”

  “OK, I will. But is everything all right?”

  “She and I got into it again yesterday, so I got tired of her mouth and told her it was time for her to get her ass out of my house.”

  “What did she say?”

  “You know Nikki, Rachael. You know she tried to get all cute, especially since she had company. But I chumped her ass down and told her I wasn’t trying to hear it.”

  “So, do you know where she is?”

  “Nah, but I’m sure she’s laying up in a hotel or something. I just hope she ain’t stupid enough to pay for it herself since she had a nigga with her.”

  “Who did she have with her?”

  “Some guy named Nate. He was Carmen’s husband’s best man at their wedding.”

  “Oh, yeah, I remember him,” Rachael told me. “Oh, so she’s messing with him now, huh?”

  “Girl, please, that silly-ass girl doesn’t know who she wants to fuck with. But I know one thing, she’d better be careful fucking all these niggas before she finds herself catching something she ain’t gonna be able to get rid of.”

  “You ain’t lying about that, because Houston has a lot of HIV cases floating around.”

  “Well, ain’t much we can do about it. You know she’s going to fuck who she wants to fuck, and do what she wants to do.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Rachael sighed.

  “Well, look, I’m going to lie back down. But call me if anything comes up, OK?”

  “OK.”

  After Rachael and I hung up, I sat up in the bed and my head started spinning, so I lay back down. It dawned on me that I felt even more depressed now that the liquor had worn off. I still could not believe that my suspicions about Fatu were right. Fuck the shop. I wasn’t planning to go anywhere that day. I had pulled my car into the garage, so nobody would know whether I was home.

  I grabbed the remote and flicked on my TV. After going through every channel, I realized nothing was on, so I turned to the news channel. A newsflash came across the screen, so I turned up the volume. The young Asian reporter stood a couple feet away from a dozen police officers.

  “A seventh woman was murdered last night,” the reporter stated. “Police say the serial killer struck again. But this time he made his way into one of the homes on Potluck Drive of Westminster Estates.”

  Before the reporter could finish I sat up in my bed and turned up the volume even more.

  “Police say the murder took place in the victim’s home, here in the middle of this friendly neighborhood’s cul-de-sac,” the reporter continued. The victim, like the six others, was a young woman in her early twenties. Police say that as of right now, they have no leads, so they’re asking all the women who live alone to be careful, and if anyone has any information that would link them to the killer, please call 1-800-LOCK-U-UP.”

  After the reporter delivered the startling news report, my stomach got weak and I felt vomit inching up my throat. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I rushed to the toilet and threw up. My head spun again and I saw black spots behind my eyes. The house they’d shown on the news was the one I had followed Fatu to. It was the same house Fatu had gone around the side of . . . and never came back out!

  Oh my God! Fatu was the fucking killer!

  “No . . . no . . . no!” I screamed, shaking my head in denial. It couldn’t be. I threw up again, and then flopped down on my bed. It felt like someone had taken all the life out of me.

  My telephone started ringing again—Fatu. My heart skipped a beat. I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do. Should I let him know that I knew? Should I go to the police? So many thoughts ran through my mind. I couldn’t concentrate long enough to weigh my options, so I ignored the phone and tried to think.

  “Oh my God! Here I go again,” I mumbled to myself because I had been through enough scandals and run-ins with crazy-ass men. It seemed like my life was destined for fucking drama, and I was sick of it. Once and for all, I knew I had to do something about it.

  The first thing I did was call Nikki. It didn’t matter that we were on bad terms, because right then she was the only person I had in the world. As much as I didn’t want to, I knew I had to tell her what I knew about Fatu. I couldn’t leave her in the dark like I did the last time. I lost my grandmother and two good friends by being selfish, and I couldn’t let that happen again.


  I waited patiently for Nikki to answer her cell phone, but she didn’t pick up, so I left her a message. “Nikki! I know you aren’t trying to talk to me right now, but I need you to call me right back as soon as you get his message. It’s very important.”

  Turning a Deaf Ear

  (Nikki Speaks)

  Kira kept calling my damn phone like I wanted to talk to her ass! I just wanted her to leave me the fuck alone. I had nothing to say to her. As far as I was concerned, she no longer existed. All the shit she had taken me through, she was lucky I didn’t go upside her motherfucking head. So the best thing for me to do was to stay the hell away from her. I didn’t care what she had going on, because it really didn’t concern me. I had my own life, and I was enjoying it without her drama.

  What I should have done was tell that ho that I was sucking her fiancé’s dick. I knew that would fuck up her head. She would probably want to commit suicide, which would be a good thing, but I couldn’t take going to another funeral. And besides, I was truly not in the mood to buy another black dress, so I’d let her live. But what I would do was avoid her at all costs. No contact whatsoever from this day forward. As a matter-of-fact, I was going to change my number. That way I wouldn’t have to worry about her at all, which would make me so happy.

  After numerous calls from Kira, she finally gave up, so I got on the phone and called my girl Carmen. She and I ended up getting together for lunch. We talked about all the shit that had been going on between me and Kira. But I never once mentioned that I was fucking around with Fatu. I knew she would tell Nate in a heartbeat. Not only that, I didn’t want to give her the impression that I was as sheisty as I was. Knowing her, she would probably cut me off from being her friend for fear that I would fuck her man. But I wouldn’t go there. He was not my type, and plus he was too arrogant. Not only that, they had a lot of drama, so I refused to let them bring their world into mine. It just would not work.