Playing Dirty (23 page)

Sunshine was strictly hustler bound. No other kind of man would attract her. You had to be driving a whip, estimating thirty Gs or better. And his dough had to be long. I’m talking like, from V.A. to the state of Rhode Island, to mess with that chick.

Oh, and Sunshine’s wardrobe was tight, too. She wasn’t gonna wear none of that fake-assed, knock-off Prada and Chanel that these hoes were getting from the Chinese people at the hair stores. No way. Sunshine was a known customer at Saks Fifth Avenue and Macy’s.

I’ve seen the receipts. Sometimes I thought she was trying to be in competition with me, considering I was like a regular at those stores and all. But there can be no contest because when it’s all said and done, I am and will always be the baddest bitch.

Since the day had almost come to an end, I sat back in Rhonda’s station as she did her magic on my hair. We were in a deep conversation about her man Tony, when Ricky walked through the door. “Good evening,” he said.

“What’s up, Ricky!” Rhonda greeted him.

“Nothing much,” he responded.

“Where you just coming from?” I wanted to know.

“From the crib.”

“Our house?”

“Yeah.”

“So, what’s up?”

“I need to switch cars witcha,” he said as he took a seat in one of the booth chairs across from me.

Something must be getting ready to go down. And he wasn’t gonna spill the beans while Rhonda was sitting up in here with me. I let her finish my hair and in the meantime, Ricky and I made idle conversation until she left. After she finished my hair, it only took her about ten minutes to clean up her station. Then Rhonda said her goodbyes and left.

“So, what you need my car for this time?” I wasted no time asking Ricky the second Rhonda left out the door.

As I waited for him to respond, I knew he could do one of three things. He could either tell me the truth, which could probably hurt him in some way later down the line. Or he could tell me a lie, which would really piss me off. And then he could throw Rule #7 at me from the
Hustler’s Manual,
which insisted that he tell me nothing. A hustler’s reason for that was: “The less your girl knows, the better off ya’ll be.”

“I need it to make a run,” he finally said.

“What kind of run?”

“You don’t need to know all that!” Ricky snapped.

“Look, don’t get no attitude with me because I wanna know where you’re taking my car.”

“And who bought you the LS 400?”

“I don’t care who bought it! The fact remains, it’s in my name. Just like the Benz and that cartoon character, Hulk–painted, 1100 Ninja motorcycle you got parked in the garage.”

“And your point?”

“Look, Ricky just be careful. And please don’t do nothing stupid.”

“I’m not,” he assured me with a kiss on my forehead.

“Don’t have no bitch in my car,” I yelled as he made his way out the door.

While he ignored me like I knew he would, I stood there and watched Ricky unlock my car door and drive off. At the same time, I wondered where he was goin’.

From
I’m Still Wifey

C
an you believe it? After all the planning I did to leave my husband Ricky to run off with Russ, it backfired on me. It has been two-and-a-half months since the whole thing went down. Now I’m sitting here all alone, in my hair shop, thinking about what I am going to do about this baby I’m carrying.

Rhonda and Nikki both didn’t believe me when I told them that I was pregnant by Russ. But after I pulled out a calendar and counted back the days from the last time we were together, it finally registered through their thick skulls.

“So, what cha’ gon’ do about it?” Rhonda asked me the day I got the results from a pregnancy test about a month ago. The first thing that came out of her mouth was for me to get an abortion since I ain’t gon’ have a baby daddy. God knows where he is. But I told her that was the furthest thing from my mind because whether I had Russ in my life or not, I was gon’ have this baby. And then she said, “Well, what would you do if he found out you’re pregnant and wants to come back with a whole bunch of apologies and shit?”

I told her that shit ain’t gon’ happen because first of all, Russ ain’t gon’ find out I’m pregnant ’cause ain’t nobody gon’ know I’m pregnant by him. And second, after that stunt he pulled on me to rob me for my dough, I know he ain’t gon’ never show his face around this way ever again. He would be a fool to. I mean, he don’t know if I told Ricky that he robbed me or not. So to play it cool, he’s gon’ do like any other greasy-ass nigga would do after they pull a stick-up move, and that is to disappear. And even though he thinks he got away with it, he hasn’t. ’Cause whether Russ knows it or not, karma is coming for his ass. And what will give me much pleasure is to be able to see it hit ’em.

Hopefully my day will come very soon.

Back at my place, which is a step down from my ol’ two-story house, I decided to pop myself a bag of popcorn and watch my favorite show,
America’s Next Top Model.
Afterward, I began to straighten things up around my two bedroom, two-bath condo until my telephone started ringing.

“Hello,” I said without looking at the CallerID.

“Whatcha doing?” Rhonda wanted to know.

“I was just dusting the mantel over my fireplace.”

“Girl, sit your butt down. ’Cause if my memory serves me, I do remember you being on your feet all day today.”

“I’m fine. But what I wanna know is, why you didn’t come back to work today?”

Rhonda sighed heavily and said, “Kira, if I could kill Tony and get away with it, I would do it.”

“What happened now?”

“Girl, I caught this nigga talking to some hoe named Letisha on his cell phone.”

“Where was he at?”

“He was in the bathroom, sitting on the fucking toiIet, taking a shit.”

I laughed at Rhonda’s comment and asked her what happened next.

“Well, before I busted in on him and smacked him upside his damn head with my shoe, I stood very quiet in the hallway right outside our bedroom and heard this bastard telling that hoe how much he missed her and that he was going to get his hair cut at the barbershop. And right after I heard him say that, that’s when I went off.”

“So, what did he do?”

“He couldn’t do shit with his pants wrapped around his ankles. So, he just sat there and took all them blows I threw at his ass. And then when he dropped his cell phone, I hurrled up and snatched it right off the floor and cussed that bitch out royally.”

“And what did she say?”

“I ain’t let her say, shit. ’Cause after I told her who I was and that if I ever caught her in Tony’s face, she was gonna get fucked up, I hung up.”

“So, what was Tony doing while you was going off on that hoe?”

“Trying to hurry up and wipe his ass, so he can get up from the toilet and I guess take his phone back. But as soon as the bastard stood up to flush the stool, I threw his phone right up against the wall as hard as I could and broke that bad boy in about ten little pieces.”

I laughed again and said, “Damn girl! That’s some shit I used to do.”

“Well, jackass didn’t see it coming. So, it made it all the better.”

“Where’s he at now?”

“In the kitchen helping Ryan with his homework.”

“So, did he ever go out and get his hair cut?”

“Hell nah. Shit, he knew better.”

“Well, what kind of lies did he tell you about everything that happened?”

“Girl, that nigga ain’t gon’ volunteer no information. All he had to say was that I was crazy as hell. And then he went on about his damn business.”

“Rhonda,” I said before I sighed, “I know you’re sick and tired of going through all that bullshit! Because I sure was when Ricky was on the streets.”

“Hey wait,” Rhonda interjected, “I forgot to tell you that he called the shop today while you was at lunch.”

“Did you accept the call?”

“Yeah. But we only talked for a few minutes.”

“What did he say?”

“He just wanted to know where you was and when was you coming in. So, I told him that you wasn’t. And that’s when he asked me to call you on three-way. But I told him the three-way call thing wasn’t working.”

“I bet he got real mad, didn’t he?”

“Hell yeah!”

“So, what did he say after that?”

“Nothing but to tell you he called. And for me to tell you to come down to the county jail and see him before the U.S. Marshal picks him up and takes him off to the Federal Holding Facility in Oklahoma, because he has something very important to talk with you about.”

“Well, he should already know that it ain’t gon’ happen. But, I am wondering what he’s got so important to talk to me about.”

“Girl, he’s just probably saying that so he can get you to come down and see him.”

“Yeah. You probably right,” I agreed.

“Well, are you going to ever tell him that you’re pregnant by Russ?” Rhonda blurted out of the blue.

“Nope. It ain’t none of his damn business. All he needs to focus on is signing those divorce papers my lawyer is getting ready to send his ass.”

“So, you’re serious about that, huh?”

“You damn right!” I commented and then I said, “I’m gonna get that nigga outta my life once and for all, so I can move on.”

“Look, I understand all that. But I wouldn’t let his ass get off that easy. Because the next time he calls the shop, I would make it my business to wreck his muthafucking ego and tell him,
‘Yeah nigga, while you was running around behind my back with Sunshine’s stinking ass, I was fucking your boy Russ right in your bed. And I just found out that I’m pregnant by him.’”

“Oh my God! That’ll kill him!”

“That’s the idea,” Rhonda told me.

I said, “Girl, that nigga gon’ try and come through the phone after I tell him some shit like that.”

“Well, no need to worry ’bout that. ’Cause it ain’t gon’ happen.” Before I could comment, she told me to hold on because somebody was beeping in on her other line. When she clicked over, it got real quiet. But just like that, she was right back on the line and said, “Hey girl, one of Tony’s homeboys is on the other end trying to holler at him. So, let me call you back.”

“A’ight,” I told her. Then we both hung up.

From
Life After Wifey

Nikki Speaks

F
rom the time I jumped into my car and left Syncere’s house until the time I pulled in front of Kira’s apartment building, I wrecked the hell out of my brain trying to rationalize and make sense of the text message I had just read on Syncere’s T-Mobile.

The message was clear but I could not bring myself to believe that my man had something to do with Mark’s murder, not to mention the fact that Kira had gotten caught up in the crossfire and lost her baby. I didn’t want to sound stupid or naïve, but there had to be an explanation behind this whole thing. I needed to find out what it was and how involved Syncere was before Kira blew the whistle on him because whether she realized it or not, I needed my man. So, I was not letting him go that easy.

Immediately after I got out of my car I stood there on the sidewalk and took a deep breath. After I exhaled, I put one foot forward and proceeded toward Kira’s apartment to confront the inevitable. Knowing she was going to bite my head off the moment I jumped to Syncere’s defense was something I had prepared myself for. As I made my way down the entryway to her building, this fine-ass, older-looking Hispanic guy wearing a dark blue painter’s cap and overalls came rushing toward me, so I didn’t hesitate to move out of his way. But, what was really odd about him was when I tried to make eye contact and say ‘hello’ he totally brushed me off and looked the other way. Being the chick I am, I threw my hand up at him and said, “Well, fuck you too! You ol’ rude muthafucka!” I kept it moving.

Patting my right thigh, with my hand, to a rhythmic beat as I walked up the last step to Kira’s floor, I let out a long sigh and proceeded toward Kira’s front door. Upon my arrival, I noticed that her door was slightly ajar so I reached over and pushed it open. “Girl, did you know that your door was open?” I yelled as I walked into the apartment. I didn’t get an answer, so I closed the front door behind me and proceeded down the hallway toward her bedroom. When I entered into her room and saw that she was nowhere in sight, I immediately called her name again and I turned to walk toward the master bathroom. “Kira, where you at?” I turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.

“Oh, my God,” I screamed at the top of my lungs the second my mind registered the gruesome sight of Kira’s body slumped over the edge of the bathtub, while her head lay in a pool of her own blood. I couldn’t see her face because of the way her body was positioned. I rushed over to her side, got down on my knees and crawled over next to her. My heart was racing at the speed of light and my emotions were spiraling out of control as I grabbed her body and pulled her toward me.

“Kira, please wake up!” I begged her and began to cry hysterically. She didn’t move, so I started shaking her frantically. “Kira, please wake up!” I screamed once again. “Don’t die on me like this,” I pleaded. Out of nowhere, her eyes fluttered and slowly opened. Overwhelmed by her sudden reaction, my heart skipped a beat and I pulled her body even closer. “Oh my God, thank you,” I said in a joyful manner and cradled her head in my lap. “I almost thought I lost you,” I told her and wiped the tears away from my eyes. Meanwhile, Kira struggled a bit to swallow the blood in her throat and then she tried to speak. I immediately leaned forward and positioned my ear about two inches away from her mouth so I could hear what it was she had to say.

When she finally moved her lips, the few words she uttered were just above a whisper and barely audible. I was about to ask her to repeat herself and she started choking. I panicked. “Ahh shit! Don’t do this to me. Take a deep breath,” I instructed her as I began to massage her chest. Then it suddenly hit me that I needed to call an ambulance. I retrieved my cellular phone from the holster on my right side and dialed 911.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“My cousin’s been shot,” I answered with urgency.

“What’s your cousin’s name?”

“Her name is Kira Walters.”

“And what is your name?”

“My name is Nicole Simpson.”

“Okay Nicole, I need for you to stay calm. Can you tell me if Kira is conscious?”

“Yes, she’s conscious. I’ve got her lying in my arms.”

“Okay, tell me exactly where Kira’s been shot.”

“In the left side of her head, right above her temple.”

“Is that the only place she’s been shot?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Nicole, I’m gonna need you to give me the adress to where you are located. In the meantime, I’m gonna need you to remain calm and grab something like a sheet or a towel and press it against Kira’s head to stop some of the bleeding. Has she lost a lot of blood?”

“Yes, she has,” I assured the woman. Shortly thereafter I gave her the address.

The operator stayed on the phone with me until the police and the paramedics arrived. Covered from the waist down in Kira’s blood, I was ushered out of the bathroom and into the kitchen by this short, white, female police officer who had a ton of questions for me. I only answered the questions l knew the answers to. Once our little session was over, another detective—this time a white male—came in and asked me almost the exact same questions as the female officer did. I found myself repeating everything over again.

My back was turned when the paramedics took Kira out on the stretcher. By the time I realized that she had been taken away, she was already in the ambulance, headed to the nearest emergency room. The white, male detective informed me where they were taking her so I immediately called my family, told them Kira had gotten shot and that they needed to meet me at Bayside Memorial. After they assured me they were on their way, I hung up with them. On my way out, I noticed at least a dozen detectives and forensics investigators combing every inch of the apartment to collect evidence so there was no doubt in my mind that they were going to find her killer.

I got to the hospital in no time at all and to my surprise my mother, my father and my grandmother arrived shortly afterward. We all sat and waited patiently for one of the doctors performing the emergency surgery to come out and give us an update on Kira’s condition. In the meantime, my grandmother had a few questions for me to answer.

“Nikki, are you sure Kira was conscious when she left with the paramedics?” she asked as if she was making a desperate attempt to find the answer in my eyes.

“Yes, she was,” I replied in a reassuring manner. “She even tried to say something, but I didn’t understand her. When I asked her to say it again she started choking and that’s when I called the paramedics.”

“Well, how was she breathing when they took her out of the house?”

“I don’t know, Grandma. I was in the kitchen when they carried her out,” I told her and then I put my head down in despair. Knowing that my cousin was in surgery fighting for her life and I couldn’t do anything to help her put a huge strain on my heart. Not to mention the fact that if I would’ve gotten to her apartment a little sooner this probably would not have happened to her. In a sense I felt like her getting shot was partially my fault. Which was why I was feeling so terrible right now.

“What in the world do y’all got going on?” my father interjected as if the sight of me made him cringe.

“What are you talking about?” I looked at him with an expression of uncertainty.

“What kind of people are y’all mixed up with?”

“Come on now, honey, I know you’re upset but this is not the time or the place,” my mother spoke up.

“Yes, your wife is right,” my grandmother agreed trying to keep the peace.

But my father wasn’t trying to hear them. Their comments went in one ear and right out the other. “Whatcha trying to do, end up like your cousin in there?”

“What kind of question is that?” I snapped.

“Just answer the question,” he commanded.

“No, I’m not,” I replied, irritated with his questions.

“It’s hard to tell,” my father snapped back. “Because every time I turn around, somebody’s either getting shot or killed. And if you keep walking around here like you ain’t got the sense you were born with, then you’re gonna end up just like your cousin back there.”

“Alright now, that’s enough! I don’t want to hear another word,” my grandmother whispered harshly with tears in her eyes. Her tone sent a clear message to my father that she was sincerely pissed and he’d better not utter another word.

But, knowing how much my father loathed when people told him what to do, the chances of that happening were slim to none. The moment she closed her mouth and rolled her eyes at him, he parted his lips and said, “You know what, Mama…”

But fortunately for us, he couldn’t finish the thought because we were interrupted by an Asian doctor dressed in green hospital-issued scrubs, walking toward us. “Are you the family for Kira Walters?”

“Yes, we are,” I eagerly replied.

“I’m Dr. Ming and I was called in to perform emergency surgery on Miss Walters.”

“How is she?” my grandmother asked.

“Yeah, how is she? Can we go in and see her?” my mother asked.

“I’m sorry to inform you but Miss Walters didn’t make it.”

“What do you mean, she ‘didn’t make it’?” I screamed in disbelief.

“Ma’am,” the doctor began in the most apologetic manner, “believe me, we did everything in our power but she was nonresponsive.”

Hearing this man tell me that my cousin just died hit me like a ton of bricks. I couldn’t believe it. I mean, there had to be some kind of mistake. Kira couldn’t be dead.

I just had her wrapped up in my arms back at her apartment a couple of hours ago. Whatever this man was talking was pure nonsense and I couldn’t accept that.

Meanwhile, as the thoughts of living my life without her started consuming me, my grandmother walked off in another direction, crying her poor little heart out. My parents got a little more in-depth with the complications Kira had and why they could not save her. I, on the other hand, just sat there in a daze.

My family and I left the hospital shortly after the doctor broke the news to us. Unfortunately, no one was able to see Kira’s body except my grandmother. A nurse escorted her down to the morgue to ID her and get her belongings. My parents and I were cornered in a small room by the same two detectives from Kira’s apartment. They didn’t have much to say this time, so our little chat went by quickly.

When we arrived back at my grandmother’s house I went off into a room by myself while my parents sat around in the living room with my grandmother. I heard bits and pieces of their conversations. But when they started talking about making Kira’s funeral arrangements, I immediately turned a deaf ear to them because I wasn’t ready to accept the fact that my home girl was dead. As it turned out, they ended up handling everything and I was truly fine with it because it took the burden off me.