Never Gonna Be Wifey Read online

I stepped inside the house and looked around to peep out my environment.

  “Sit down. I’m happy that I finally get a chance to meet you,” she smiled.

  “You have no idea. The feeling is mutual.”

  “Yeah, I usually don’t do this, but I swear I’m feeling you. I’ve never felt like this over no dude that I’ve never met before.”

  “I understand. Come on over here and show me some love.”

  I stood up, unbuckled my belt, and pulled my pants and boxers down. All that was left was my wood hanging.

  “Damn! I th-th-thought . . .” she stuttered.

  “I mean we grown; we’re into each other, so why not?” I ain’t goin’ lie. I didn’t want to fuck her fat, ugly ass, but I knew to get her where I wanted her, I had to do something; I settled with the head.

  “I know. I just didn’t want you to think I was no freak.”

  “Shit, I ain’t no li’l boy. Fuck all that. C’mon gi mi some a dat bomb head you be talkin’ ’bout.” Before I could finish my sentence, shorty was already on her knees.

  I had no idea how her big ass got down there that fast. Within seconds, her ass was devouring my wood. She sucked it like she ain’t ate in weeks. I ain’t goin’ front; it felt good as fuck, especially when she deep-throated it. I ain’t never met a bitch before that could take all of my wood in her mouth. I bust in no time. Yeah, I ain’t pull out. Instead, I let all my seed flow out down her throat. She swallowed every last drop and cleaned my wood off with her tongue.

  “Damn, shorty, you a beast.”

  “Shit, I might not know how to do anything else, but I know how to suck a good dick. Trust that.”

  “I hear you, ma. Where’s the bathroom?”

  “The first door on the left.”

  I cleaned myself off and washed my hands. That was some fire head I thought as I walked back into the living room.

  “I cooked. Do you want something to eat?”

  “No, I’m good, but I need to holla at you ’bout some serious shit.”

  “Me? What did I do? It wasn’t me,” she laughed.

  “Nah, sit down, ma. I got a business proposition for you.”

  “You know I’m scared straight. If it involve breaking the law, I ain’t wit’ it.”

  “I ain’t asking you to break no law, but it involves ten stacks.”

  “Ten what?” Her eyes got bigger, and she sat her fat ass down.

  “Yeah, I knew this would grab yo’ attention. You was at the prison in Tallahassee?”

  “Yes, that’s where I did my time. How did you know that?”

  “That’s minor. I got connects.”

  “I see. So what that got to do with what you need me to do?” she said, looking at me.

  “There was a chick there by the name of Shayna Jackson. You two might have been friends.”

  “Shayna Jackson. Shayna, yeah, I believe if that’s the right Shayna, we were bunkies. What about her?”

  “Well, I need to get in contact with her, and I need your help.”

  “Why do you need my help? This don’t sound too good.”

  “Listen, yo, di gyal do some fucked-up shit, and I just need to find her.”

  She sat there staring at me. I started rubbing on her thighs. She wasn’t no dime piece, but I needed her, so I don’t mind stroking her ego. She looked at me and smiled.

  “I didn’t really like the bitch anyway, so I’m sure we can work something out,” she smiled and winked at me.

  “Listen, here go ten stacks. I know you can use the money.”

  “Are you serious? What the hell that bitch done did? ’Cause you coming off some stacks.”

  “There’s more where this came from if you keep yo’ mouth shut and play yo’ position. Trust me; daddy will make sure you a’ight, you hear me?” I said as I threw the cash into her lap.

  She looked down at the burner on my hip, then back at me.

  “Trust me, I fully understand. You ain’t got to worry about me saying a damn word to anyone.”

  “That’s my girl. Now be ready for when she do call. I ’ont want no mess up,” I said, while I rubbed her face.

  I stayed a few more minutes, explaining everything to her, then I bounced up out of that area. I was heading home, but first I stopped at Family Dollar and bought me a notepad and pen. I had a letter to write to a very special bitch. I was a street nigga, but I was good with words, especially when my livelihood depended on it!

  * * *

  After I left shorty’s house, I was feeling much better. I could see things were falling into place. I just hope it continues to flow right. I cut the radio on just in time to hear a V103’s news reporter saying, “The body of prominent private investigator Abe Murray was found on the city’s east end.” She went on to say he was killed execution style. The family was offering a reward for the person or persons responsible for this horrible crime. I cut that shit off as I replayed everything in my mind. Earlier, I’d smashed up the prepaid phone that I used to contact him. I gave him a wrong name, so I wasn’t worried about that. I was careful in speaking in my best American accent when I dealt with him.

  It didn’t surprise me how killing had become second nature to me. Growing up in Jamaica and hanging around some of the most ruthless gangstas, I caught on pretty fast. Shit, after all the stories I heard about Pops, I’m surprised that motherfuckas expect different from me. Well, in a way, I was different. He was too trusting of motherfuckas. Not I. In my world, e’erybody suspect, even Mom-dukes. Shit, I feel like if the right pressure is applied, she’ll crack. That’s why when I do my dirt, I do it alone. Don’t get me wrong; I fuck with my niggas, but certain shit I keep to myself, ’cause I ain’t tryin’a spend the rest of my life in nobody cell. You feel me? Shit, I love money and pussy too much.

  Driving through the city, I noticed DeKalb pigs were out in full force. I decided to call it a night, so I went in the house early. I felt the same feelings that I felt e’erytime I entered the house. It was time to get my own crib.

  I heard the living room television come on, so I peeped my head in. I noticed Mom-dukes watching the news. Dang, this lady stays watching the news, I thought.

  “That’s you, Azir?” she hollered.

  “Yeah, Ma.” I walked over to her and planted a big kiss on her cheeks.

  “Sit down.” She patted the couch.

  Oh, here we go again, I thought.

  “What’s good, Ma? You a’ight?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. The question is, what’s going on with my son?”

  “Ain’t nothing going on. I’m chilling.”

  “Azir, I watch you come and go. I know what you’re in these streets doing. I went into your room to clean it the other day, and you know what I found? These.” She showed me my baby 9 mm and ’bout an ounce of powder.

  “Man, why were you in my room snooping in the first place?” I looked at her.

  “Snooping? Boy, you done lost yo’ damn mind. This is my house, and you ’ont pay no damn bills in here,” she said in a fierce tone.

  “I know it’s your house and shit, but I’m a grown man, and you in my room going through my stuff.”

  “Azir, you listen up good. This shit should never be in my house. You’re out there breaking the law, and there is only one of two outcomes. Either you goin’ get killed, or yo’ ass gonna be locked up in jail like an animal. Alijah is turning over in his grave right now at your actions. Your daddy busted his ass to make sure you ain’t want for nothing. Your ass not in these streets because you’re poor; yo’ ass is out there ’cause you want to be. It’s not because you hungry or homeless. Wake up, Azir. Take some of that money and go to college. Get a career; make something of yourself.”

  “Dang, Ma. A whole speech, though? I’m not you or Pops. It’s my life, and I’m goin’ live it.”

  “You know what? Yes, it’s your life, but as long as you live under my roof, it’s my rules. I’m not goin’ be no part of you messing up yo’ life.”

  “
You know what? I see that I can never live up to your expectations. I’m not Alijah; stop expecting me to mess up just ’cause he did. You know you so hard on me, but you was his side woman and supported everything he did. I’m your son. Why can’t I get yo’ support for once?”

  “Boy, shut the fuck up talking ’bout things you know nothing about. I wasn’t side to anyone. I was his woman; he came home to me. He loved me. Don’t you ever turn your mouth to even disrespect me like that anymore,” she yelled and got up and walked away.

  The second those words left my mouth, I regretted it. I love Mom-dukes, and honestly, I know that she loves me. It’s just that sometimes, it’s too much. “Alijah this, Alijah that.” I was sick of that shit. Guess what? Alijah been dead and ain’t coming back. She needed to get over it and move on. Dang, she just blew my mood. I turned around and went back out the door. I jumped in my car and headed for Memorial Drive. I stopped at the liquor store, got me a bottle of gin and some blunts, and then I got me a room at Quality Inn on Memorial. I needed some time alone to get my thoughts together and focus on what’s important to me.

  I took a quick shower, rolled a big head, and took the bottle of gin to the head. Then I sat in the dark, zoned out, thinking of my life, the past, and the present. I felt a few teardrops falling; no one understood the pain I was feeling inside. Ever since I was a little yute, I’ve always had this emptiness deep down. It ain’t about no money or how much shit I had. Don’t none of that matter.

  What matters to me was me getting revenge on the muthafucka that fucked my life up and took my pops away.

  I cut the light on and grabbed my notepad. I had a letter to write to a very special lady.

  Shayna Jackson.

  Hey, the Beautiful Miss Jackson,

  I hope this letter finds you in the best of health. I know you’re wondering who this is, so let me introduce myself. My name is Alonzo Caldwell. I’m the first cousin of your ex-bunkie Natasha Caldwell. She left the facility ’bout a year and a half ago. Anyway, I was over at her house a few days ago and saw a pic that you two took together. The second I laid eyes on you, it’s like you captured my soul and held me captive. I must say, I was caught off guard because I’ve never done anything like this before. I’m not a weirdo or any kind of serial killer (joke). I am simply a man that recognizes a gorgeous woman and wants to be part of the reason she smiles. I would love to hear from you. You can hit me up at 404-698-3271 or shoot me a kite. I understand if you choose not to respond, but my gut tells me you will because you’re just as curious as I am.

  Love, Alonzo

  Chapter Seven

  Shayna Jackson

  I stared down at the picture that was enclosed with this strange-ass letter. I sat there thinking I remembered my old bunkie Natasha. She was one of the few bitches that I actually dealt with. This was strange, though, because I couldn’t remember her mentioning a cousin named Alonzo. I took another glance at the picture, wondering what this fool wanted with me, talking all this nonsense. I placed the pic and the letter back into the envelope and put it up under my mattress.

  Days went by, and I couldn’t get this man out of my mind. Those eyes seemed so familiar, like we’d met before. I wondered what he really wanted with me, so I decided to call him. I took out the envelope and walked over to the phone booth. I listened as he answered and the recorded message played out.

  “Hello, Miss Shayna.”

  “Hello, Alonzo,” I barely whispered.

  “I’ve been waiting for your call.”

  “You sound confident; so tell me what you want from me. And I remember yo’ cousin, but I don’t recall her mentioning you.”

  “Yes, well, I was away overseas. My business takes me out of the country for months at a time.”

  Hmmm . . . Antennas went up in my head. A businessman; this might work out after all.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of work?”

  “Ha-ha, I’m not at liberty to say at the moment, but Ms. Defense Attorney, I’ll be sure to keep you on the payroll.”

  “Oh, I see. Say no more.”

  He went on, talking about how sexy I was and how he couldn’t wait to meet me. I didn’t say much on the phone. In my mind, I was too busy wondering why. I wasn’t no fool; I needed to know what this man’s interest in me was.

  “Hey, Alonzo, your cousin gave me her number, but I misplaced it. Do you mind giving it to me? I would love to talk to her.”

  “No doubt. Give me a sec; let me pull it up. I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”

  It seemed like he was telling the truth, because I called a bluff, and he didn’t flinch. He read the numbers off to me, and before I could get a word in, the recording came on informing me that I only had fifteen seconds left. The phone cut off with us getting a chance to say good-bye.

  I walked back to my bunk, smiling to myself.

  “Say, bunkie, it looks like you got some good news,” my nosy-ass bunkie said as she popped her head from under her cover.

  I looked at her and smiled. This bitch never got the memo that I don’t share my business with bottom feeders.

  The man had me feeling good. He didn’t know it, but he had ignited the fire in me. It was a great feeling to know that after all these years, a man still found me attractive. Shit, I knew I was a bad bitch, but being locked up had kind of put a damper on my parade.

  I got on my bunk and lay down with my eyes closed. I replayed the sound of his sultry voice that sounded like Barry White. He spoke with confidence and a little cockiness. He reminded me of a younger version of Alijah.

  Being the lawyer I was, I tried to figure out what he wanted from me. All kinds of different scenarios ran through my mind. I thought it might have been someone the feds sent to discredit my claim against Gonzalez. Shit, I was too damn smart if they thought that I would blow my only fucking chance of walking out of here months early by running my mouth to a nigga I didn’t even know. Whoever he was, to me, he was just another regular-ass nigga that recognized that I was high bred.

  * * *

  I was tired of wracking my brain, so I got up and pulled out the piece of paper that I wrote his cousin’s number on and dialed the number.

  “Hey, Shayna; girl, how you been?”

  “Hello, Natasha, I’m hanging in there, girl.”

  “Girl, I hear you. I’m so happy that I’m outta that hellhole. Ten years was damn sure enough fo’ me.”

  “Um-hmm. You already know I’m not a criminal, so I have no understanding of why I got here in the first place. My lawyer still trying to get me home.”

  “Yeah, true. You one of the few people that prison is not for. Keep your head up; your day is coming. You didn’t kill anybody, so they can’t keep you forever. The worst part is behind you now.”

  “Aye, Natasha, what is yo’ cousin’s name again? It’s right on the tip of my tongue,” I lied.

  “Girl, you must be talkin’ about Alonzo. Don’t tell me that fool contacted you. He saw a pic that we took on the courtyard, and, girl, he kept on saying he’s goin’ get you. He’s a fool,” she busted out laughing.

  “I can’t remember you mentioning his name, which is strange because we spent hours talking about your family and different things. I mean, I would’ve remembered if you did.”

  “Yes, please don’t tell him that. He’s my cousin on my dad’s side. We were close growing up, but he spent most of his time gone.”

  “Oh, I see.”

  “Why you sound like that? Alonzo is a real good dude. He’s on top shit; that’s why I even bothered to give him your address. I know you could use a friend, especially after all you been through. Shit, he might be the one to hold you down while you’re in there. I know you strong, and all, but even the strongest of us need somebody to lean on.”

  “Girl, you’re right. I just don’t trust these niggas. I was kind of suspicious at first because I didn’t remember you talking about him. Thanks for clearing that up for me.”

  “Shayna,
girl, don’t be a stranger. Hit me up on Corrlinks—” she said before the phone cut off.

  I never really liked that bitch Natasha, but she was one of the few that tried to be friendly to me. So my ass would half-tolerate her ass. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to see what was up with this cousin. He looked kind of young, but, oh well. I would love to have some young cock. I could mold him the way I want him. Shit, I will have him so gone over this old pussy that he won’t have time to be worried about those young bitches. Age is nothing but a number, and I look damn good for my age.

  Chapter Eight

  Azir Jackson

  Man, I really fucked with shorty; she came through for a nigga. I was sitting back chillin’ when I got the phone call that I was hoping for. I was kind of nervous that the bitch wasn’t going to call. From what I learned, this bitch wasn’t no slouch, so I’m pretty sure she was trying to figure out where the fuck I popped up from out of the blue.

  “Yo,” I answered the unknown number.

  “You have a collect call from a federal facility. Press zero to ignore, and five to accept the call.”

  My fingers couldn’t move fast enough to press five. My first instinct was for me to go ham on this bitch, but I quickly caught myself. A soldier like me definitely knew how to play my position.

  I was prepared for the question she was asking. From what I learned about her, I knew she wasn’t no weak bitch, so I knew I had to get on her level. I could tell the bitch was full of herself from the minute she got on the phone.

  I tried to convince her that I was legit and my only intention was to get to know her. I’ve always had a way wit’ bitches, so dealing with her was no different. The only difference was this bitch was a poisonous snake. The kind that you got to cut they motherfucking head off. After I got off the phone with her, I felt confident that I’d be hearing from her on the regular.

  A few days later, Natasha informed me that she called to check out my story. That right there let me know that she had some interest in me, which didn’t surprise me. I made sure I gave hints about my status. That would grab the attention of a money-hungry bitch!