Read Wifey 4 Life Online

Authors: Kiki Swinson

Tags: #Fiction - General, #African American - Urban Life, #Fiction, #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction

Wifey 4 Life (9 page)

BOOK: Wifey 4 Life
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“Whatcha want?” he asked me.

I could tell he was a little irritated, but before I answered
him, I scanned the entire room to see who was there. There were two guys, and the
chick from earlier was nowhere in sight.

“I need to use the bathroom really badly,” I said, hoping the
men would be sympathetic to my bathroom needs.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t let you get up,” he said, not sounding
sorry at all.

“So what am I supposed to do, just sit here and piss on myself
?”

“You can if you want,” he replied.

Since I wasn’t getting anywhere with this asshole, I looked across
the room to the other guy to see if he would cut me some slack. “Hey, look, I’ve
got to use the bathroom really badly, so can you please tell this guy to untie me
so I can go?” I asked, displaying the saddest expression I could muster.

“Sorry, but I can’t override his decision,” the other guy said.
Obviously, he couldn’t care less about my problem.

The guy standing over me with the tape in his hand leaned toward
me to put it back on.

I stopped him in his tracks. “Hey, can I ask you a quick question?”

“What is it?”

“Look, it’s obvious that I’m not going to get out of here alive,
so can you just please have a heart and let me use the bathroom? It’s not like I’m
gonna try to escape or anything.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“Then what are you worried about? Because all I have to do is
pee, and that won’t take nothing but two minutes.”

The guy looked down at me for a complete five seconds. Then he
looked over at the other guy. I turned to look at the other guy too. His facial
expression stayed the same.

“It’s up to you, dog,” the guy sitting on the couch finally said.

The guy in front of me turned his attention back to me. “A’ight,
I’ma let you go, but don’t try no funny shit, or I’m gon’ kill you my damn self
!” he warned me.

“Thank you so much,” I said.

I sat there patiently while he untied the rope from my wrists
and ankles. I don’t know how long I’d been unconscious, but from the numbness in
my legs, I could tell that it had been at least an hour, if not longer.

When I stood, my legs felt like they were going to give way.
“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk on my own,” I told the guy.

“I can carry you if you want,” he said.

“How would you do that?”

“I can throw you over my shoulders.”

The thought of him lifting me up and carrying me over his
shoulders wasn’t what I really wanted, so I decided to tough it out and walk on
my own. Honestly, I didn’t want him touching me. I wasn’t about to let him get a
cheap feel off me. I figured if it was time for my life to be over, I should go
out with some dignity.

“Never mind. I can manage,” I assured him.

I took the first step with my right foot, and then I took the
next step with my left, treading very lightly until the numbness went away altogether.
With each step I took, the more the feeling in my legs came back. I knew one thing.
If I even had the desire to make an attempt to escape, my plans would be over before
I blinked my eyes.

“Which way is the bathroom?” I asked as we reached the entrance
of the hallway.

“It’s that door right there on the right.” He pointed in the
direction of the kitchen. When I noticed the bathroom was less than twelve feet
from the room where these assholes had me tied up, I knew there was no possible
way to escape.

As I approached the bathroom door, he reached for the doorknob
and opened the door for me. Then he switched on the light.

I stood at the entrance, peered inside, and got an eyeful. I
looked at the guy and asked him if this was the only bathroom in the house.

He looked back at me and laughed. “There’s one upstairs. But
what’s wrong with this one?”

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked in a sarcastic tone.

He knew how fucked-up this bathroom was. The smell of the urine
was so strong, it damn near killed me at the door. The toilet seat looked brown
and rusted, and the sink had the same discoloration. I even saw a couple roaches
scatter, like they were trying to run for cover. There was no toilet paper in sight,
but there was half a roll of paper towels. I guess I was supposed to use that to
wipe my ass. The few pieces of tile on the floor looked like they were about to
come up. It was so bad that the wooden floor underneath was visible. Too bad there
wasn’t a window, because this shit needed airing out big time.

“Hey, look, I ain’t going way upstairs so you can use the bathroom.
If you don’t use this one, then you ain’t using nothing.”

I sucked my teeth because I saw that I wasn’t getting anywhere
with this conversation. His big lazy ass didn’t want to walk up upstairs, so I had
to suffer with the wretched and sordid conditions of this bathroom.

I knew I had to hold my breath while I was inside that dungeon,
but I also knew I couldn’t hold my breath longer than a good thirty seconds, so
I rushed into the bathroom and closed the door. I don’t know how I did it, but I
pulled up my dress, squatted, and pissed all over the nasty seat. I didn’t do it
purposely. It just happened that way. I was mad that I’d pissed all over the seat
and the floor, because that meant I had to be the one to wipe it up, and I didn’t
want to touch anything in there. It didn’t matter that I could use the paper towels.
The idea of being in this hellhole longer than I had to be definitely gave me the
creeps.

I grabbed the roll of paper towels, snatched off a sheet with
which to wipe myself, and then placed the roll back on the edge of the sink. After
I wiped myself, I used the same sheet to wipe off the toilet seat. I knew that was
nasty and not hygienic, but look where I was. This whole fucking place was a dump.
So why should I treat it any better than they did?

Almost about to run out of breath, I dropped the used paper towel
into the toilet and flushed. Not even a second later, I burst through the bathroom
door and was back in the hallway standing beside the same asshole who wouldn’t let
me use the upstairs bathroom. He didn’t waste any time escorting my ass back to
the room where they had me tied up.

When we reentered the room, I noticed that the stupid-ass chick
had found her way there and was sitting on the sofa closest to the chair where I
was tied, and sifting through the contents of my two-thousand- dollar Chanel handbag.
I couldn’t believe how casually she handled my wallet as she flipped through my
credit cards and my driver’s license.

“She won’t be needing this or this after tonight,” she said.

I started to curse her ass out and tell her to leave my shit
alone, but instead I looked at her like she was beneath me, and then I rolled my
eyes.

“What the fuck was all that?” she blurted out.

I ignored her ass, like she wasn’t talking to me.

That made her mad, because she repeated herself, and this time
she said it with much attitude. “I know you heard me talking to you when I asked
you what the fuck was all that!”

“Who you talking to?” the guy standing beside me asked her. “I’m
talking to that bitch!” she screamed.

I sat back down on the chair, and while the guy was tying my
arms behind me, he started laughing at the chick. I knew I wasn’t in any position
to start some shit with her, so I tried my best to ignore her comments, but of course,
she wasn’t having that.

“I’m not gonna ask you again,” she roared. She stood and walked
over to where I was sitting.

I looked up at her. “What do you want me to say?”

“Don’t play fucking games with me! Just tell me why the fuck
you gritted on me like you got beef with me or something.”

“I didn’t grit on you,” I lied.

“Oh, so now I’m seeing things, huh?”

“Kasey, go ahead on with that bullshit!” the other guy yelled
out. “You see she ain’t trying to go there with you.”

“Fuck that! She already went there!” she yelled.

“Girl, sit your ass down,” the guy tying me up said.

She sucked her teeth, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and tugged.
“Oowww! What the fuck is your problem?” I screamed and gave her the nastiest expression
I could muster. If I wasn’t tied up, and this nigga wasn’t standing between us,
I would have smacked the hell out of her. With all the fucking mouth she had, she
was really overdue for a good, old-fashioned beatdown, and I would have been the
perfect candidate to give it to her.

“You look at me again like you just did, then I’ma show you my
problem.” Then she walked back over to the sofa and sat down.

I was furious with that bitch! I really couldn’t say what the
hell I wanted to, because I would’ve given her an earful. The fact that she grabbed
and yanked on my hair really blew my fucking mind. She had balls the size of a man
to do something like that. And the fact that I couldn’t do anything about it also
blew my mind. But what else could I do?

When this overgrown-ass nigga finished tying me back up, he grabbed
the roll of gray electric tape to cover my mouth. I didn’t want that shit over my
mouth again, so I said, “Please, I promise, I won’t say a word.”

“Don’t listen to that shit, Dré. Tape her ass up!” Kasey said.

Dré looked over at the other guy. “What’s up? Put the tape back
on or what?”

The other guy was rolling marijuana into some blunt paper, and
it seemed like he didn’t want to be bothered with any of the decision-making. He
looked at Dré.

“Nigga, I don’t care what you do.”

Getting the green light to do whatever he wanted, Dré decided
not to tape my mouth again.

Kasey made it known she was pissed. “Try to yell one time, bitch,
and I’ma personally fuck you up!”

After she made that comment, I didn’t bother to look her way.
I was more focused on how I was going to get out of this hellhole. I wanted to live
another day, so my mind was on figuring out a way to escape the jaws of death.
I had no idea why they were holding me captive, or who they were holding me for.
I needed answers, and the way my captors were acting, I didn’t think I was gonna
get them anytime soon.

Now, I knew that sorry-ass Tony set me up, and that the money
Dré gave him was the payoff for delivering me. So wherever that bastard was, I hoped
the next time he stepped foot outside his car, he got run over. What he did to me
was really foul. No matter how I felt about someone, I wouldn’t serve them up to
get killed, unless they did something to put me in harm’s way. Like my dead husband
Ricky and his partner Russ.

Ricky wanted me dead because I wouldn’t help him set up Papi.
And Russ’s crooked ass robbed me of all my life’s savings, purchased a fucking
Bentley, and then when I ran into him and confronted him, he pulled out a pistol
on me. Now how fucked-up was that?

But my problem was, I was too damn forgiving and trusting. I
let people fuck me over at least twenty times before I left them alone completely.
And that was just plain crazy. Who did that? I couldn’t say where I got that mentality,
but that wasn’t how I should be. I mean, look at the situation I was in now. I was
too fucking trusting of Tony. I allowed that lowlife-ass nigga to serve me up to
these other lowlives. Who knew what plans they had for me? Whatever they were, I
knew it wouldn’t be pretty.

Someone knocked on the front door, and my heart damn near
leaped out of my fucking chest. I figured maybe whoever it was had come there for
me.

Kasey hopped up from the sofa and raced to the front door. Before
the person could knock a second time, she opened the door.

As soon as the person entered the house, I heard footsteps walking
in my direction. The closer the sounds of the footsteps, the more uneasy I felt.
If my hands weren’t tied up, I probably would have chewed off all of my fingernails.

A few seconds later, Kasey walked back into the room, with the
visitor two steps behind her. It became obvious that everyone was expecting this
person to come here, because neither one of the guys asked Kasey who had arrived.
I was the only person left in the fucking dark, so I had to wait and see.

When I saw that the visitor was Uncle Lanier, I was a little
confused. At first I wanted to jump for joy, but then when I looked at the menacing
expression on his face, I realized he wasn’t there to set me free.

He walked slowly toward me, a cynical smile on his face. He looked
like a fucking mechanic, dressed in a pair of blue overalls, but I knew he would
never get his hands dirty to work on anyone’s car. He was never the type to get
his hands dirty and always paid people to do his dirty work for him.

“I know you must have a ton of thoughts running through your
head, huh?” he asked me.

I didn’t respond because I wanted to see where he was going with
this.

“Oh, so now you have nothing to say?” He took a couple more
steps toward me.

I honestly wanted to respond, but what I wanted to say would’ve
probably come out wrong, so I sat still and remained quiet.

“Aren’t you wondering why I’m here?”

This time I tried to say something, but my mouth wouldn’t budge.
My eyes got extremely watery, and before I knew it, one tear after the next fell
down my face.

“Ahhh, don’t cry,” he said, and then he stroked my hair with
his fingers.

I literally caught chills and wanted to vomit. “Don’t touch me!”
I snapped.

Without any forewarning, Kasey smacked the shit out of me. I
couldn’t see it, but I knew my face turned beet-red.

“Didn’t I tell you I was going to fuck you up if you said one
word out cha mouth?” she roared.

I got to be frank. I was furious as hell when that bitch put
her fucking hands on me. I wanted to get up and teach that whore a lesson. “I don’t
give a fuck what you said! But I do know you better not put your filthy hands on
me again.”

Kasey stepped toward me and raised her hand again to whack me
once more, but my uncle grabbed her hand right before she struck me. “Kasey, I got
this. Go have a seat.”

BOOK: Wifey 4 Life
11.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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