I'm Still Wifey (7 page)

“Yeah. I’m a’ight. I was thinking ‘bout some stupid-ass shit my girl just asked me on the phone a few minutes ago.”

“What she say?”

“She asked me was I calling this broad I use to fuck with name Sharney, so I told her, nah. And then she started screaming on me, saying I’m lying, ’cause somebody told her a whole bunch of bullshit. So, I cut her off and told her I wasn’t trying to hear that nonsense. So she got mad and hung up on me.”

“Man, dontcha hate when they do dumb shit like that?”

“Hell yeah! I hate it.”

“Me too, because my wife is good for that. But it’s funny, ’cause, when I was on the streets, she used to be all up my ass. Always in my muthafucking pockets and spending my dough on eighteen-hundred-dollar Fendi boots, three-thousand-dollar Roberto Cavalli dresses and ten-thousand-dollar Russian sables.”

“Yo, I got my girl one of them furs, too.” Bossman jumped in and said.

“So, you feeling me, then,” I said.

“You damn right I’m feeling you. But they ain’t feeling us. Especially when they stressing us out over dumb ass shit. I mean, come on, dawg. I ain’t trying to hear that. I wanna hear, ‘I love you. Baby, I just sent you a letter. And I can’t wait ’til you come home.’ All that other shit she can keep.”

“Word, dawg. I was telling my wife a couple days ago that she needs to step her game up a little, and stop worrying ’bout shit she can’t change. ’Cause I’m gon’ always do what I do. I made the dough. I put her ass in that three-hundred-thousand-dollar crib. Bought her a brand new LS400. Put a twelve-thousand-dollar iceberg on her finger. And I use to send her trick ass to California on shopping trips so she got hers. And that’s when I got my shit off, too. I mean, come on, dawg, there’s a lot of beautiful women out there. And the variety is in huge numbers. So when they run across a cat like me with major figures, them hoes wanted to get down. And I was all for it, ’cause ain’t nothin’ like new pussy.”

“Boy, you got that right! Because, a nigga like me done had my share. And I mean, with some bad broads. I’m talking ‘bout hoes with pretty faces, donkey asses and small waists,” he replied and then laughed.

“Yeah. I done had my share of them, too. But where are their asses at now? ’Cause, as soon as a nigga goes on lock, every hoe who done said that they love you, scatters like roaches. And then when you get out, here they come, flocking right back at’cha like chickens.”

“That’s how them hoes roll. They ain’t shit. And that’s why I ain’t gon’ be shit either.”

“Word, dawg!” I told him. And then outta nowhere, C.O. Bivens yells out and tells me that my lawyer is here to see me. I got up and bounced.

Before she put me in this small-ass room I asked her, “Where you been at? I ain’t seen you in ’bout a week?”

“I was on vacation.”

“Where did you go?”

“I didn’t go anywhere. I just sat at home and did a little spring cleaning.”

“Well, see, if you were my girl, then I would’ve sent you to Cancun or something.”

“But I’m not. So I guess I’m gonna have to stick to spending my time spring cleaning,” she replied, grinning her ass off.

I came right back on her and said, “Come on, Bivens. Why you playing games?”

“I am not playing games.”

“Well, did you think about what I said?”

“Yes.” She was still smiling.

“So, what’s up then?”

“What am I supposed to do for you in return?”

“Whatcha mean?”

“I mean, what are you planning to get out of making me your girlfriend and showering me with all those gifts you’ve been speaking about since the first time we talked?”

“Maybe just a lil’ bit mo’ of your time. Ya know, pulling me outta the block, so I can get some exercise every now and then.”

“And take you where? Because there’s not a lot of places in here that I can take you without being seen on the cameras. And anyway, I’m going to third shift in a couple of days.”

“That’s even better,” I said, hoping it would convince her.

“Look, I don’t know,” she replied, sounding unsure. “But I’ll see. Now go on in this room because your attorney is waiting on you.”

“A’ight. Well, just get at me,” I said and then she unlocked the door and I went in.

***

My lawyer was already sitting at the table with his briefcase opened when I walked up to him. I knew he was ready to give me whatever he had.

“What’s good, Burgess?” I asked.

“Ready to get down to business?”

“Always.”

“Well, first off, I finally got the federal agents to hand over your investigation files in exchange for your cooperation in bringing your connection with Papi Santos and his men down. So,” he said and then sighed, “After looking through all of these reports, I found out that your sources were indeed correct.”

“You fuckin’ bullshitting!?”

“No. As a matter of fact, I’m not.”

“So, Kira was ratting me out, huh?”

“Yes. But she also had some help.”

“Who?” I asked, feeling my heart trying to jump out of my fucking chest.

“Her cousin, Nicole. The young lady who was initially arrested and charged with possession with intent.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I know who she is.”

“Okay, well according to these records, she provided a substantial amount of information that started the whole investigation on you and those other men in your organization.”

“But how could she do that when she didn’t hardly know nothin’?”

“Well, it has also been noted in these records that your wife provided a significant amount of information, too. I have a copy of a signed affidavit with her testimony right here.”

“Word! Let me see that.” I grabbed the piece of paper outta his hand.

Now as I began to read all the shit Kira told them crackers about me, the love I had for her in my heart started turning into hate. I mean, I’m really bugging! This hoe was sleeping in my muthafucking bed. Laughing and grinning in my face and serving my ass up to the police right under my nose. My own fucking wife! I can’t believe this shit! I mean I know I done did some foul shit in our marriage, but I know I didn’t deserve this. Not a fucking life sentence. Especially after all the shit me and her done been through. Kira was my partner. My dawg! My right hand. I trusted her with everything, ’cause I knew she had my back, regardless of what happened. But I see shit done changed now ’cause she told them where all my new stash houses were, who was running them, who was in charge of cooking up all the dope, and who made the pickups. She even told them about the shooting gallery me and my squad used to have, and about the cat I used to cop my machinery from, even though he’s long gone now. She couldn’t tell ’em how that nigga got put to rest, ’cause I ain’t never tell her. So I guess I did something right.

But all and all, this whole thing is still fucked up. And I see right now that I’m gon’ have to put an “H” on my chest and handle it ’cause it’s on, now! Shit is about to change for that bitch and she don’t even know it. I can’t have that hoe running around on the streets like shit is lovely, because it ain’t. And since I’m hurting right now, she gon’ hurt too!

But before I get my soldiers suited up to do her ass in, I’m gon’ get her stank ass to pitch this ball I’m trying to throw Papi’s way. Since she’s the only one who can make this mission possible. Now’s the time to go through with the plan.

“Ayo Burgess,” I said and then I slid the piece of paper back across the table.

“What’s on your mind, Ricky?”

“Well, you know that in order for me to get this thing poppin’ with Papi, I’m gon’ need my wife to set up shop on the outside?”

“Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“Okay, so I’m gon’ need you to call her at her salon and tell her the deal. ’Cause, I done tried like a hundred times to get her to come down here so I can lay everything out, but she ain’t bucking.”

“So, what do you want me to say to her?”

“I just need you to call her and tell her that I’m gon’ call her in about ten minutes after you do, so it would be in her best interest to accept my call.”

“But, what if she gets irate with me?”

“Just tell her that I know everything and that if she don’t accept my call and listen to what I gotta say, then she gon’ have trouble.”

“Ricky, that’s coercion. I can’t deliver your message in that fashion.”

“Okay, well, just tell her what’s going on with the investigation with Papi. And that I can get my sentence cut to almost nothing if she helps me.”

“Okay. I can do that. Now, is there anything else?” Burgess asked me as he wrote his notes down on paper.

“Nah. But when you talk to her, just let her know how important this thing is.”

“I will,” he assured me and then started packing everything back into his briefcase.

“You gon’ call her after you leave here, right?”

“Yes. As soon as I get into my car, I am going to phone her, so don’t worry. I’ve got that part under control.”

“A’ight, Burgess. Good looking out.”

“No problem. But, don’t forget to call my office sometime next week. That way, I can bring you up on the progress in the investigation.”

“A’ight. I will,” I told him.

He finished packing and left.

I had to sit there and wait for a C.O. to come and take me back to the block. But before that happened, I sat back and thought about how I was gon’ come at Kira with the shit I had just found out. And then I thought it would be better to play the game her way and see how she could handle it with me on the sideline. Even though I didn’t know the answer to that question, I knew I was gon’ find out in a few minutes.

***

“Millennium Styles.”

“Hello, may I speak with Kira?”

“This is she.”

“Hi, this is Mark Burgess. Your husband’s attorney.”

“Yeah. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I have a message for you.”

“What’s the message?”

“Ricky’s in desperate need to speak with you.”

“Okay, now tell me something I don’t already know.”

“Listen, Kira...”

“I’m listening,” she interjected.

“Your husband has a huge chance of getting his life sentence overturned by his judge. But in order to make this happen, he’s going to need you to help him.”

“And what does he need me to do?”

“He’s going to need you to contact his old connection, Papi Santos, and try to set up a meeting with him of some sort.”

“Wait a minute! Is he crazy? I’m not getting involved with that shit! That man is crazy!”

“We’re all aware of that. But you’re the only one who can do this. And besides, Ricky’s already aware of your involvement in his case. So we both know that you’re no stranger when it comes to helping the authorities.”

“And so what does that mean?”

“Listen Kira, just accept your husband’s phone call because he’s going to be calling you in about ten minutes.”

“To say what?”

“He can explain it better than I can.”

“All right. So is that it?”

“Yes. That’s it.”

“Well, you have a nice day.”

“You do the same, Kira.”

Ten Minutes Later

I finally broke down and accepted Ricky’s phone call. But while I was waiting for the operator to connect us, I locked myself in the back office of the shop so I wouldn’t be bothered. I was a complete nervous wreck because of the fact that he knew how much I had helped the Feds out with their investigation against him. And for the first time, I was beginning to feel ashamed and embarrassed about the way I had betrayed him. What will I say in my defense when he confronts me with it? I mean, how am I going to justify what I did? This is some serious shit I’m about to go up against.

“Hello,” Ricky finally said.

“Yeah,” I replied in a nonchalant way, trying to feel what mood he was in.

“I see you got my message.”

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Well, before I get into what I need you to do, I just wanna let you know that I ain’t even mad about what you did. A’ight?”

“Yeah. A’ight,” I said. But deep down inside, my gut feeling was telling me something totally different. I mean, why is he being so damn calm about all this? Is it because he needs me? Or is it because this is truly how he’s feeling at the moment? But, if you ask me, something just ain’t adding up here, and it will surface.

“Okay. Now that we got that out of the way,” he continued, “Are you gon’ help me get out of here?”

“Do I have a choice?” I asked because truth be told, I ain’t feeling him or this conversation at all.

“Look Kira, don’t play no fucking games with me. Now, are you gon’ help me or not?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Well, I’m gon’ give you the number to Papi’s store, ‘cause I want you to call him on three-way. Now I’m gon’ do all the talking, so just sit back and listen. Because I’m gon’ set everything up. A’ight?”

“A’ight,” I told him, which of course gave him the green light to continue on with what he had to say. Almost instantly after he gave me the number, I called Papi and got him on the line.

“What’s good, Pop?” was Ricky’s way of greeting Papi. He does this because Papi has always been like a father figure to him ever since he came on to the scene.

“Oh, my God! Ricky, is this you?” Papi asked him in his thick Hispanic accent.

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Well, tell me what’s going on? Because I had some of my people out trying to find out what went down out there in Virginia. But nobody ever gave me no straight answers. So, are you all right?”

Ricky sighed heavily and said, “Nah, I ain’t all right. Them crackers got me tied to a murder beef. They gave me a life sentence for it.”

“Ahh, Ricky! That’s not good.”

“I know. That’s why I’m getting my lawyer to straighten things out. And to make sure it’s done right, I’m gon’ need some serious dough.”

“How much do you need?”

“For now, I’m gon’ need around $150K.”

“Wow! That’s a lot of money, amigo. And I would love to help you, but business here at the store hasn’t been that good lately. It seems like no one has moneda to buy food anymore,” Papi commented and then chuckled.

Now, I’m guessing he did this to bring a little humor to their conversation. Then Ricky said, “Well, I already got a little something put up. But if you can help me on the other end, I can get the rest up myself.”