Never Gonna Be Wifey Page 16

  “Don’t just stand there looking at the motherfucker. Come show him some love.”

  I was happy he interrupted my thoughts ’cause my mouth was gathering water. I wanted to lick that cock and satisfy my sexual appetite.

  I dropped the towel and stepped closer to him. He picked me up and put me in the air, then buried his head in my pussy. My clit throbbed as he licked in a circular pattern. I couldn’t take it; my legs started to shake as I exploded in his mouth. He didn’t loosen up any and continued to suck on my clit aggressively, which sent me into a multiple-orgasm frenzy. My body trembled, my chest tightened, and I held his head tight. Pussy juice flowed out freely all over his beard. He then carried me to the bed and entered me from the back. My pussy was wet and welcomed his overgrown cock without any restrictions. He started off slowly but soon picked up speed. He fucked me like he was on a mission. I tried to throw my ass back at him, but the pressure prevented me from moving. I buried my face in one of the pillows and bit down hard. I’ve been fucked before, but it was nothing compared to this. This was the kind of cock that will have you losing your mind. Damn! I wouldn’t mind getting my pussy serviced every night if it was gonna be like this!

  After ’bout two hours of fucking and sucking in every room, on the bed, on the carpet, and even on the kitchen counter, we were both exhausted. I took a quick washup and crawled into bed. He soon followed. He held me in his strong arms as I dozed off thinking this man could be my Prince Charming if he played his cards right. This meant he had to eat my pussy good, fuck me good, and made sure I had all the money I needed. And most importantly, he had to stay away from those low-level hoes. If he did all that, we surely could have a future together.

  I woke up the next morning hoping it wasn’t a dream, and sure enough, it wasn’t. Across from me lay my man; I also noticed a firearm on the nightstand on his side of the bed. That reminded me that I needed to find one ASAP. Yeah yeah yeah, I’m a convicted felon, so I’m not supposed to carry a firearm. Bullshit! The feds fucked up my life. There was no way I was gonna let them still run my life. I’d paid my dues and some more. Shit, they owed me, if you want to be technical about it.

  “Good morning, beautiful.” He looked at me and smiled.

  “Hmm, somebody was tired, ’cause you sure was snorin’ heavily,” I teased.

  “Cut it out. A nigga ain’t doing no snoring.” He threw the pillow at me.

  “Uh-huh. So you say.” I threw the pillow back at him.

  “So, Alonzo, how is your cousin doing? I would love to see her. That was my girl.”

  “I ain’t talked to her in a minute, but I’m pretty sure she good. I’ma let her know you in town. Y’all should get up with each other.”

  “I’m just trying to adjust to life on the outside. A lot has changed.”

  “Yeah, it’ll take some time, but you good. Before you know it, you’ll forget about prison.”

  “No, I’ll never forget. I hated that place with a passion.”

  “Let me ask you a quick question. What did a pretty lady like yo’self do to land you in the feds?”

  “Hmm . . . long story. I tried to kill this bitch that made my life hell.”

  “Hell nah. Not you. You ’ont look like you could hurt a fly,” he laughed.

  I caught an instant attitude. He was laughing like it was a joke. That bitch Sierra entered my life and fucked it up. My soul wouldn’t rest until that bitch took her final breath.

  “Yo, you a’ight?” I felt him shaking me.

  “Yes, I’m fine. Sorry ’bout that. It was a traumatic time in my life, and it hurts every time I think about it,” I said.

  “I understand, ma. I didn’t mean to hurt you or anything like that. We don’t have to talk ’bout it until you’re ready.”

  “I’m fine. I’m a big girl.”

  “Listen, all this is behind you now. You’re here with me, and I ain’t goin’ do nothing to hurt you. That’s on e’erything I love.”

  Damn, this nigga catching feelings already with all this emotional shit. Shit, I hope I didn’t have another Markus on my hands. Sadness overcame me with the thought of Markus. The last time I heard, they still haven’t found him or his body, and Alijah was dead, so there’s little or no hope that he’d ever be found. It’s sad that he just vanished like that. I quickly snapped back to reality. Markus was the past; I’m on to bigger fish!

  “Alonzo, you have an accent; sounds like Jamaican or Trinidadian.”

  “Yeah, my father was from Jamaica, and I spent a few years out there when I was a kid. I didn’t realize that it was that strong.”

  “No, it’s not really strong; I just picked up on it, because my husband was from there, and I visited a few times myself.”

  “Word! You were married?”

  “Yes, I was, but unfortunately, he was killed ’bout a year before I went to prison.”

  “Damn! Sorry fo’ yo’ loss. That must be rough and all. You one strong woman.”

  “Nothing to be sorry ’bout. The bastard left me for a younger project bitch. I wasn’t really sad when his ass got killed. He had put me through too much. Cheating, calling me all kind of bitches, even went as far as hitting me. Then came the ultimate disrespect. He got the little bitch he was sleeping with pregnant. The bitch ended up having the little bastard.”

  “Damn, that nigga did you like that? Some niggas don’t appreciate a good woman. He got everything he deserved if he did you like that.”

  “Yeah, he wasn’t worth shit but some money. The bastard was paid, and that’s the only reason I stuck around long as I did.”

  “Well, I’m glad he fucked up ’cause if he didn’t, you wouldn’t be here right now. Trust me; I ain’t nothin’ like that nigga.”

  Yeah, right. All these bums have the same line when they first get in a relationship. I didn’t bother to say anything. I just looked at him and smiled. This was weird, his face . . . He reminds me of someone. Hmm, I know. He reminds me of Alijah. I chuckled to myself. Here I am claiming that I didn’t care ’bout his death, but I thought Alonzo reminded me of him. My mind was playing tricks on me. I brushed that craziness off ’cause Alijah was an only child, and he had a son, who last I heard was living in Jamaica with his grandma. That was years and years ago. Something rang an alarm in my head, but this can’t be. I brushed off the feeling as my mind was only playing tricks on me.

  “You a’ight? You actin’ a little strange,” he inquired.

  “I’m fine. So what are yo’ plans for today?” I asked, trying to brush away my thoughts.

  “’Bout to get up. Got to handle some business in Atlanta; then I plan on spending the rest of the day with you.”

  “Oh, okay. Sounds great. I need to make some phone calls, so I’m going to relax until you get back in.”

  I took my shower and made us a light breakfast. He didn’t have a lot of food in the refrigerator, so I made scrambled eggs, grits, and toast.

  We sat at the table, eating, talking, and looking into each other’s eyes. This seems so real, I thought.

  “A’ight, babe, I’m out. Make yo’self at home.”

  I watched as he pulled out of the driveway. Okay, I’m free, I thought. I made sure the doors were locked; then I pranced upstairs. I took out the envelope that contained everything about my case and stuck it in the bottom of the drawer where my clothes were folded. Then my nosy behind started going through his drawers. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was hiding. We all have secrets, even if it’s nothing major. I searched through his clothes, through papers, and under the bed, but had no luck finding anything of importance. Okay, now, since that was out of the way, I had some phone calls to make. First, I called Wells Fargo to request a new bank card. I then called Nova Scotia Bank in the Cayman Islands to check on my money. The next call was to Daddy’s lawyer. I had to inform him that I was going to sell the house in Hempstead and the vacation home up in Massachusetts. I didn’t want to keep anything that would remind me of Daddy.

  I fo
und a phone book in his kitchen and decided to look up a private investigator. I found one in Marietta, Georgia. I had no idea how far it was from me, but it stated that he’s been in the business for over thirty years, and he was the best in the business. Let’s see how good he was. I dialed the number that was listed.

  “Hello, Richardson here,” a groggy voice said.

  “Good morning. I’m calling because I saw an ad in the Yellow Pages and I’m in need of a PI.”

  “Well, here I am at your service, ma’am. What is it exactly you need my help with?”

  “Well, I would love to meet with you in person and discuss the case. I need to have someone that I can trust.”

  “Sure. I understand. What side of town are you on?”

  “I believe it’s Decatur.”

  “All right. We can meet in Atlanta, which would be the closest to both of us.”

  “Yeah, that’s fine. I’m not from the area, so I would have to figure it out. Thursday is good for me. What about you?”

  “Let me see something . . . Yeah, Thursday morning between eight and eleven is fine.”

  “Great. Nine is fine with me. Please text me the address of where you want to meet, and I’ll be there.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me. See you then. Have a great day.”

  I hung up the phone.

  “Who was you talking to?”

  Alonzo startled me, almost causing me to piss on myself.

  “Oh, that was an old law school friend of mine. He’s out here in the Atlanta area. I was surprised to find out his number was still the same after all these years. I’m trying to see if I could help him out ’round the office since I can’t practice law anymore. We’re meeting downtown on Thursday. I was hoping you could drop me off or something.” That lie just rolled off my tongue so easily. There was no way I can give off any vibes. That shit ain’t right.

  “Shit, you know how to drive. You can take the truck. It has GPS so you can get around easily. I’ll ride my bike. That way, you can spend as much time as you need without rushing back.”

  “Wow! I appreciate that. I need to go car shopping as soon as possible. I was thinking about a Lexus or Benz. Shoot, I need something fancy.”

  “I hear that, Ms. World Boss,” he joked. “I just stopped by to pick up a package. I’m on my way back out.”

  “Oh, okay. I’m just here, trying to readjust to a little normalcy.”

  “A’ight, ma. I’ll see you later.”

  Whew! That was close. I didn’t hear when he came in. I had to be more careful—I couldn’t afford to let anyone throw a monkey wrench in my plans. Not this time around. I’m older and a lot wiser now. I can’t act on impulse or let my emotions get the best of me . . .

  Azir Jackson

  Our first night together was rough for me. From the minute I took the bitch to my crib, I was ready to blow her fucking head off. What was even worse, the bitch thought I was enjoying her pussy. Fuck nah! With every thrust I took deep inside of her, I was thinking about how I was going to kill her. Fucking her was only part of the plan to get her where the fuck I wanted her.

  I really peeped the grimy side of this bitch when she started knockin’ her gums ’bout my pops and my moms. It took everything in me not to smack the shit outta her. That smirk she had on her face when she talked about them irked my fucking nerves. This was my first time coming face-to-face with evil. Don’t get me wrong; I’ma street nigga, so I see evil e’ery day, but this bitch was the devil herself. Coldhearted bitch! I thought.

  My phone started ringing as I walked into the trap. I looked at the phone and saw it was my moms.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, baby. How you doing?”

  “I’m good. Out here tryin’a handle a few things.”

  “Azir, you betta stay outta them streets. It’s crazy. Did you see the news?”

  “Nah, I ’ont watch TV. What, something happened?”

  “Yea, Dwayne got gunned down in his driveway a few nights ago. I just got off the phone wit’ his mother and sister. The police saying it was drug related, but his mother saying they think it’s something else.”

  “Ma, I know you ain’t crying over that nigga.”

  “Azir, regardless of what happened between me and him, they didn’t have to kill him like that. He got a child, who is now fatherless. This senseless killing got to stop,” she cried.

  Man, I wasn’t tryin’a hear all this. But it was my mom, and I knew she was feeling that bitch-ass nigga at one point. So I kept my opinion to myself to spare her feelings.

  “Ma, this nigga was in these streets. He had a lot of enemies. It’s hard to tell whose toes he done stepped on. It could be anybody, real talk.”

  “Hmm. As long as it ain’t you, baby, ’cause Atlanta PD all over this one, and the feds are involved also. They said he was under federal indictment at the time.”

  “Nah, I ain’t go near that nigga after the day I told you I saw him.”

  “That’s good ’cause motherfuckas goin’ start runnin’ their mouth fo’ that reward money. I wouldn’t be surprised if your name gets thrown up in there. Shit, even mine, ’cause I used to date him. We just need to be prepared when they come snooping.”

  “Listen, Ma, I got to run; I be over there probably tomorrow to see you and Nana.”

  Damn! Every time somebody got popped, I’m the first person Mom-dukes calls. Like really? I ’ont know why she would think that about me. Oh well, that nigga deserved e’erything he got for disrespecting me and mines.

  I hung up the phone and walked into the room where my niggas were. It was time to handle business!

  * * *

  I dialed Natasha’s number; I had to put her up on the game, which I knew was gonna cost me a couple of Gs. But it didn’t matter because, without her, none of this would’ve been possible.

  “Yo, let me in.”

  “Damn, boy, I just got in the bed,” she complained jokingly.

  “My bad. I was in the neighborhood.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure. I ain’t heard from you in over a week.”

  “Shit, my bad. I’ve been busy. Business is booming, so I got to stay on top of it. Plus, I moved into my own crib. Shit, a nigga doing too much for real. I can’t get a second to breathe.”

  “Well, more work mean mo’ money. So wha’ you complainin’ fo’?” she laughed.

  Shorty was cool as fuck, but not on my level. She was one of the females that you could chill with, smoke, drink, and talk shit with.

  “So, listen, ole girl is out of prison.”

  “Who you talkin’ ’bout?”

  “Shayna.”

  “Boy, you lying. She got ’bout ten more years to do. ’Bout six with good time.”

  “Nah, her ass is out here. She’s at my crib as we speak.”

  “What the fuck? What did I miss? Y’all messin’ around?”

  “Nah, it ain’t like that. I can’t get into the whys. Just trust me on this. She’s been asking for you, say she wants to see you. You know she ain’t no fool, so she might try to pick you ’bout if we really related or not.”

  “I ain’t no fool. Her ass is only book smart. She ’ont have a lick of sense outside of that.”

  “Okay, I ’preciate it. Oh, I almost forgot . . . Here goes a li’l sump’n.” I handed her five stacks.

  “Oh my God. You’re a savior. Boy, I freaking love youuuu!” She got up and walked over and hugged me.

  “Damn, ma, it’s only a few dollars. I know you could use it.”

  “And you just don’t know how much I ’preciate you.”

  “A’ight, enough of this emotional shit. I’ma ’bout to bounce. I’ll get at you.”

  “A’ight. One.”

  I left, jumped on my bike, and sped off. As I rode down the street, something ran through my mind. See, Natasha was cool and all, but she also could be bought if the price was right. With that said, she was a liability that I couldn’t afford. Damn, I hated to think like this, but I ain’t no fool, an
d besides, my freedom meant more to me than my loyalty to her!

  Chapter Sixteen

  Shayna Jackson

  I got up, showered, and put on my pencil skirt and a collared shirt with a pair of Steve Madden heels. I looked myself over in the mirror. Shayna is back, bitches!

  Then I grabbed my Michael Kors clutch and walked out of the condo. I put on my shades and opened his truck door. It was a nice ride, but I need a sexier car. Something that fit my style . . . fast and elegant.

  We were meeting at the Marriott downtown. It was my idea to meet there; that way, I could be in control of the situation.

  “Checking in, the name is Shayna Jackson.”

  “Good morning, ma’am. Here is your key to room 212. Enjoy your stay at the Marriott.”

  I took the key and headed for the elevator. I made sure I was forty-five minutes early. I ordered breakfast for my guest and me; then I lay in bed relaxing until I heard a knock on the door. I looked through the peephole and saw a stocky, old, bearded man standing on the other side.

  “Yuck,” I mumbled, but desperate times call for desperate measures . . .

  “Hello, I’m Shayna.” I extended my arm to him.

  “Albert Richardson, but my friends call me Big Al.”

  “Come in. I ordered us some breakfast.”

  “Oh great. I ran out before I had a chance to eat.”

  We sat at the table and ate. I watched as he gulped down the food like a pig. Damn, Al was behaving like he ain’t ate in ages. Greedy fuck, I thought.

  After breakfast, he wiped his mouth, gulped some coffee, then spoke. “Miss Jackson, what can I do for you?”

  “Well, Al, I’m looking for my long lost sister and her son. I haven’t seen them since my nephew was a baby. That was some twenty-something years ago. Daddy recently passed away and left us a decent chunk of money. So here I am, trying to find the only family I have left. I hope you can help me.”

  “Well, I’ll need some background info on her and the boy’s age. My fee will—”

  “Don’t worry ’bout the fee. I’m far from broke, and this means everything to me.” I rubbed his arm and looked at him seductively.