Never Gonna Be Wifey Page 15

  I dialed his number and waited until the recording did its thing.

  “Hello, love?”

  “Hey, you. I am so happy right now. Can you guess what just happened?”

  “I ain’t wit’ no guessing, but I figure it’s good news ’cause of how you acting.”

  “Yes. I’ll be home in a little while. Home? Wait, I have no home. Ha-ha,” I laughed nervously.

  “Word! You’re finished? I thought you had ’bout three years left.”

  “Well, I did, but it’s a long story that I will have to tell you in person if we ever meet.” I wasn’t no fool. I knew all the conversations were recorded.

  “Oh, a’ight. So, you going back to New York?”

  “Damn! I haven’t thought about it yet. Uh, I have to figure it out soon, though.”

  “Shit, you need to come out here wit’ a nigga. I mean, starting over might be all you need.”

  “You mean, out in Atlanta? I never been there before.”

  “Shit, I mean—you might as well move out here wit’ me. I got you!”

  “Hmm. I sense someone is inviting me to his domain.”

  “I got the space, and if you don’t feel comfortable, I can pull some strings and get you your own place.”

  “Wow! I don’t know what to say. I don’t really know you, and I wouldn’t want to impose on your life.”

  “Listen up, ma, I’m the one that offered. Cut the bullshit out. The offer is open. Get at a nigga when you make yo’ decision.”

  Before I could respond, the phone hung up. I wasn’t sure if he hung up or the phone cut off. I was shocked that he asked me to come out there with him. Atlanta, huh? I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard great things about the city. It might not be a bad idea. It ain’t like I had anyone in New York. Daddy was gone and going back to Long Island would only bring back memories of his horrible death. I had enough money from Daddy’s estate that would allow me to live comfortably. I knew that I could never practice law again. Oh well, let’s see what I can get into when I hit Hotlanta, as everyone calls it.

  I walked back to my bunk thinking; I have some planning to do . . .

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sierra Rogers

  I hate to question God, but why did I have such bad luck with men? First, Alijah got killed, and now Dwayne. Damn, even though he and I broke up, and he did me wrong, it didn’t make the pain any less. I had so many great memories of us together.

  His sister had called me, even though we got into it the other day. I didn’t fuck wit’ that bitch like that, and the only reason why I talked to her ass was because his mother was also on the phone. That bitch was a straight up snake that I needed to stay away from. She had the nerve to ask me for some money to put toward his funeral. Hell nah! This nigga was one of Atlanta’s biggest dope boys. You mean to tell me, they had to call li’l ole me for money? Hell, they better call that cracker bitch. It’s her man and her responsibility, and if they couldn’t afford a funeral, they needed to cremate his ass. The bitch had an attitude when I told her poor ass that I wasn’t gonna help. That’s when I became a “stupid bitch” again. I didn’t give a fuck what that ho called me; I bet she couldn’t call me a broke bitch!

  I haven’t talked to Mo’ in a while. I sure miss my bitch. She’s supposed to visit next month. I can’t wait. Even though I didn’t know Atlanta that well, there was a lot of shit to do out here. I’ve heard a lot about Magic City and the infamous Blue Flame, two of the hottest strip clubs in Atlanta. I know Mo’s ass would be in heaven. Also, there’s a few food places that a few of my clients be bragging out. We will definitely find something to get into.

  I dialed Mo’s number.

  “Hey, chica.”

  “Hey, boo. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing, just sitting here missin’ yo’ ass, so I decided to hit you up.”

  “Oh, okay. I’m sitting here filling out this application for my new place.”

  “Word? You’re moving?”

  “Yes, girl, I’m tired of Richmond. These niggas and all these killings is really blowin’ me. I’m trying to move out to Chesterfield, where it’s quiet, and all the hoodlums won’t be out there. You know Chesterfield police don’t be playing.”

  “Yeah, I feel you on that. Girl, you remember ole boy that I told you ’bout when we were talkin’?”

  “Yeah, I remember. The one that wanted y’all to move in. What’s going on wit’ y’all?”

  “Girl, that nigga was a fucking cheater. I caught him in bed with a white bitch. Come to find out, she was his woman. I was the fuckin’ sidepiece. Anyway, girl, somebody killed him a few nights ago.”

  “Bitch, you lying? For what?”

  “I have no idea. He was a big-time dope boy, or so it seemed.”

  “Yo, that’s fucked up. How you holding up? I know he cheated and all, but you had a relationship with him.”

  “Girl, I ain’t goin’ lie. It hurts, but I think I’m still angry that his ass played me like that. After what I’ve been through wit’ Alijah, I didn’t expect to get dogged out like this.”

  “Girl, these niggas ain’t shit. You know that. But on some real shit, friend, I believe yo’ pussy is deadly. That’s the second nigga you fucked that end up dead. Damn! But I got the pussy too. Does that mean that I’m next?” She busted out laughing.

  “Fuck you, Mo’, wit’ yo’ retarded ass. Ain’t shit wrong wit’ my pussy. These niggas just not getting it. The street don’t love them. I do feel bad for his seed and his mama. Girl, me and his trifling-ass sister got into it the other day. That bitch two-faced. She knew her brother had a bitch. I smacked the shit out of her, trying to disrespect me when I confronted her.”

  “Really? This country bitch betta stay in her fuckin’ lane, ’cause I’ll be headin’ down 95 South if she keep fuckin’ wit’ you.”

  “Bitch, you know I handled that ho; she wasn’t ready. The younger me would’ve beat her to death, but my old ass ain’t trying to sit up in nobody jail cell eating bologna sandwiches. I fired that bitch on the spot. I was not playing.”

  “These bitches betta get their shit in order, ’cause I ain’t nothing but eight hours away.”

  “Okay, Ms. Laila Ali. They ain’t ready for you.” We both laughed.

  “Anyway, what going on wit’ you?”

  “Girl, nothing. Same shit, different day. Just been workin’ my ass off.”

  Jeanette walked into the room and interrupted. “Sierra, cut the TV on.”

  “I’m on the phone. What is it?” I asked with an attitude.

  “The news is on; it’s showing a commercial now, but it’s coming up next,” she said as she cut on the television.

  “Mo’, let me hit you back later.”

  “Okay, cool.” She hung up the phone.

  “Jeanette, what’s so important that you had to interrupt me?”

  Before she could respond, the Channel 2 news reporter came on. “Yes, Julia, I just finished talking to Atlanta PD, and they confirmed to me what we’ve heard all morning. A motorcycle was involved in the shooting death of Dwayne McKenzie. One witness that was out walking her dog told investigators that around 9:15 p.m. while out, she heard gunshots and hid behind a car. She caught a glimpse of a big motorcycle speeding away from the scene of the crime. She wasn’t able to see the rider’s face, because he was wearing a helmet and wore black clothing. The police are withholding this witness’s name because the investigators are still gathering evidence. The FBI is also involved in this case because the victim was under federal investigation. Ross Colbert reporting from Atlanta for Channel 2 News. Jovita, back to you.”

  I sat frozen in my seat. I looked over at Jeanette, and I knew our thoughts were similar.

  “No, this is pure coincidence.” I shook my head in disbelief. “I spoke to him earlier, and he said he didn’t have anything to do with the killing. I believe him,” I told her.

  She didn’t respond. She sat there humming to herself. I got up and headed upstairs.


  I lay across my bed thinking, and my thoughts wandered back to the last time Azir was here. How angry he was that dude did me wrong. I remember hearing the anger in his voice and seeing the coldness in his eyes; it sent chills up my spine just thinking about it. Oh no! I hope that I didn’t drive my baby to commit murder.

  “Oh my God. Please protect my only child. I can’t take it. I just can’t . . .” I cried out to God. I hope it was all a coincidence. My baby ain’t no killer! My mind was tellin’ me one thing, but my heart was telling me different. Azir was so much like his dad, and that’s the part that was trying to tell me different . . .

  Chapter Fourteen

  Shayna Jackson

  It was 1:00 a.m., and I couldn’t fall asleep; maybe it was anxiety. I lay on my bunk looking up at the dark ceiling. Less than eight hours, I’d be walking out of these walls and into the real world. The real world—I love the sound of that. After spending all these fucking years in hell, I’d be able to eat, shit, and sleep when I want to, without worrying about these motherfuckers breathing down my back.

  I was looking forward to starting a new chapter in my life. I’ve got all that money from Daddy’s estate and my money I had stashed away overseas. If I must say so, I was going home to be one rich bitch! And I’ve got a new man in my life. Well, let’s not jump to conclusions there. I plan to see what’s up with this fool. I needed to find out how much paper he was stacking, then figure out a way to get mine out of it, and then get the hell on.

  After tying up some loose ends, I think I might move to an exotic island, with blue water and men with tan bodies and big muscles. That’s the life right there, I thought as I dozed off.

  I jumped up when this loud-ass bitch hollered, “Work time,” over the intercom. Damn, it’s already 7:00 a.m. I jumped off my bunk, grabbed my clothes, and headed for the shower room. I showered and got dressed in no time. The hairstylist in the bootleg beauty shop flat ironed my hair, which was below my ass. I applied a little makeup. Since this was the cheap version, I was careful not to put on too much. Damn sure didn’t want my face to break out. I put on my grey jogging suit. I couldn’t wait to get to Atlanta so that I could hit the designer stores up. They thought I was conceited before. They ain’t seen shit. Those Atlanta bitches better watch and take notes from a real diva.

  I handed all the clothes and things that I’d accumulated all these years to the Spanish bitch that did my hair.

  I saw the anger in my bunkie’s eyes. I didn’t pay her ass any mind. If she had any doubt that I didn’t like her ass, she should be certain now. That bitch snored, coughed, farted, and begged every chance she got. Old disgusting-ass bitch.

  “Shayna Jackson, to R&D.”

  “That’s you, Miss Shayna. You go, girl; make sure you keep in touch.”

  “Bitch, get outta my way.” I pushed past her.

  I walked out unit 3-C, held my head high, and walked across the compound. As I walked past a few inmates, I saw the jealousy in their eyes. They wished that it was them leaving. Oh well, let them bitches keep wishing. After all, I didn’t sit back and wish. I took my destiny in my own hands...

  * * *

  The plane ride from Florida to Atlanta was only an hour and twenty minutes, so in no time, I was walking out of the airport. I was also feeling nervous. I kept looking all around me and would jump when someone got close to me. I kept coaching myself to calm down as I walked through this gigantic airport. As I got closer to where people would pick up visitors, I started to feel nauseated. What was I doing? Maybe I should turn around and buy another ticket and head to New York. Right as that thought entered my mind, I saw a dude walking toward me. Our eyes locked. I recognized that it was the same dude that was in the pictures.

  “Shayna, right?” I heard a seductive voice say; it almost sounded like Barry White.

  I stopped and stared rudely before saying anything. In front of me was every woman’s fantasy. A tall, brown-skinned, long dreads brother stood before me. To say he was fine would be an understatement. Those eyes, though, were dark, cold, and deadly.

  “Well, hello, there,” I managed to say in a low tone.

  “Well, come here, woman. I’m Lonzo,” he said, pulling me toward him and hugging me.

  He smelled so good I almost collapsed in his arms. I wasn’t sure what he was wearing, but whatever it was triggered my hormones.

  “You ready?”

  “Yes! I’m more than ready. I’m starved, and I need to go shopping.”

  “I understand that. I’m parked this way. Let’s go.”

  Lord, I don’t know this man, and here I was in his state with him. I hope he ain’t no killer or rapist, I thought as we walked to his truck.

  The rest of the evening was spent shopping at the luxurious stores in Buckhead, which was considered the wealthy area of Atlanta. I stood in awe as we entered the mall. Things just look so different than when I was home. I became overwhelmed. People were moving all around me, which made me nervous. I thought about turning around and running back to the truck, but I know this is something that I had to deal with. No one warned me that after being this long from the streets, so much would’ve changed.

  “Yo, you good?” he tapped me on the arm.

  “Yes, I just feel crazy being in a store after all these years.”

  “Do you want to leave? We can come back another day, or you can shop online.”

  “No, I can’t stay locked in forever. We’re here, so I’m ready to hit these stores.”

  This damn mall was huge, and it has some of my favorite stores and a lot of new ones that I’ve never heard of before. This nigga was definitely a big-time baller. Store after store, he kept pulling out wads of cash. I was fine with it, because he spent almost ten grand on me—from designer pants to dresses and purses. Then I hit up Victoria’s Secret so that I could get some fancy underwear and lingerie. This nigga was spending like that, so I had no problem fucking and sucking him off. I knew that if I played my cards right, it wouldn’t be long before I’d be deep down in his pockets.

  * * *

  Finally, he pulled up at his house; it was a nice condo. Nothing big; just cozy enough to feel like home. I glanced around as we entered; it was very clean and masculine.

  “Make yo’self at home. We can share a bedroom, or you can have yo’ own room. The choice is yours, pretty lady.”

  “I like the sound of that. We can share a room. I don’t think you gonna bite me, and if you did, I’d just have to bite yo’ ass back,” I joked.

  “Ha-ha. I see you’re also a comedian.”

  He had no idea how serious I was about that statement. If he continued to play his cards right, he’d have no reason to find out how hard I could bite, but if I found out this nigga was on any kind of bullshit, he’d feel the wrath of Miss Shayna Jackson!

  Azir Jackson

  I’d spent my entire life dreaming about meeting the person that betrayed my pops and tried to kill my moms. I remember going to bed e’ery night and planning on how I was going to get to them. Even though I’d never met that bitch, I used to hear my nana whispering about this woman, and after reading the newspaper clippings, I had nothing but hatred in my heart for her. I knew that as long as I had life, one day we would meet.

  I’d seen her face in the old newspaper clippings that I took from underneath Nana’s bed, but it wasn’t until Natasha showed me the most recent pictures of her that I was able to stare in the eyes of this evil bitch.

  Fast-forward to this minute; only Jah knows how much I’d prayed for this day. I stood in the lobby of the airport waiting to pick her up. Everything was working out the way I planned it. I peeped as she walked out and looked around. This bitch had no idea that she was entering the world of a man that was seeking revenge for his family. I walked up on her and said her name. I knew I startled her by the way she jumped. This old bitch stood in front of me with her tongue hanging out of her mouth as if she were a fucking hungry dog. I played it cool, though. I was a patient m
an; I’ve waited all these years, so waiting a few more days was minor.

  I ended up taking her shopping. Yeah, I dropped a couple of Gs on that greedy bitch. Watched as her face lit up when I pulled out a stack of hundreds. It was my way of reeling her in so she would have no doubt that I was a boss; exactly the kind of niggas she was attracted to.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Shayna Jackson

  After we ate dinner, he opened a bottle of Cîroc Pineapple. This was new to me, but once I tasted it, it immediately won me over. We laughed and talked as if we’d known each other for a lifetime. He was a laid-back man; that made me feel comfortable around him.

  “Well, it’s getting late. I’m about to shower and slip into something a bit more comfortable,” I winked at him.

  Damn! I had to get into the shower. I was sitting there looking at his sexy body and listening to his sultry voice, and it made my pussy juice overflow through my cheap-ass prison drawers.

  I got into the shower and carefully washed every inch of my voluptuous body. This Dove Body Wash was doing the body well. I used the washcloth and scrubbed hard, with the intent to wash that filthy place off me. It was a new start and all new beginnings.

  I stepped out of the shower leaving all the dirt of my old life behind me. This was the new and improved Miss Jackson.

  Next, I grabbed the oil I bought from Victoria’s Secret earlier and gently oiled my body. I rubbed across my breasts, my thighs, and between my legs. I stuck my finger into my pussy and licked it. I loved the taste of sweet nectar; it sent my sex drive up to an all-time high. I was ready for whatever awaited me on the other side of the door—or was I?

  Slowly, I opened the door and took one step forward. I looked at his face . . . then down to his cock! Around nine inches of beautifully well-endowed chocolate manhood stood in front of me, and it was thick as hell, making this one of the most beautiful cocks I have ever seen in my life, and trust me, I’ve seen a variety of cocks.