Page 35 of Wifey: Part 1


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Shabazz was quiet for a long, uncomfortable moment. And then he spoke up, “Word, so what’s up with that dude? You really think he’s good peoples, like I could trust him?”

“I do, Shabazz. He seems genuinely concerned about you.”

“You tell him you were meeting me tonight?”

“Why would I tell him that?” I laughed nervously. “I don’t even know him like that.”

“Right…right. And what about his girl, what’s her name again?” Shabazz began to snap his fingers in a continual gesture.

“Mia.”

“Yeah, Mia. I remember you said y’all were getting cool.”

“I ain’t cool with that crazy bitch!” I spat.

Suddenly, Shabazz gave me a backhanded slap that made me see stars. “You fuckin’ that nigga ain’t you?”

“Ain’t noboby—”

The second hit was more of a punch, and the pain was magnified. I hunched over in my seat and cradled my head with my arms to block any further blows, but none came. We continued to drive for a few more minutes until I could feel the car slow down until we eventually came to a complete stop. My heart was palpitating from fear. Any high I’d previously felt from the liquid had dissipated, quickly. My senses were heightened and I’d do almost anything to be back home in the security of my own room.

Shabazz flung open my door and dragged me out by my hair.

“What are you doing!” I screamed. “I ain’t fuckin’ him!”

I looked around and we were in a deserted area. I could see the New Jersey Turnpike not too far in the distance.

“You’re a dumb-ass trick! He only fucked you to get at me, but you’re too stupid to see that!”

Shabazz tossed me on the ground and began stomping me in my stomach and gut. The pain was excruciating, but I knew that he could do much worse. I continued to deny that I’d slept with Nico, but Shabazz knew the truth. Finally he demanded, “Take off your clothes.”

“Shabazz, come on now. You’ve done enough. Just take me home!” I tried to sound authoritative, but he wasn’t listening. He had a wild look in his eyes—a mixture of hurt, pain and anger.

From his waist he pulled out his burner. “That nigga tried to rock me to sleep and my girl goes and fucks him!” Shabazz hit the side of his head with his pistol like a mad man. “Do you know how that makes me feel? Huh, bitch?”

He was now towering over me in a menacing stance. “On my life I didn’t fuck him! I wouldn’t do something like that to you. I swear to God!”

“I said, strip!”

“Shabazz—”

Pop, pop, pop, pop, pop!

Shabazz let off a succession of shots around my immediate perimeter. “Strip! Whore! Don’t make me ask you again!”

Reluctantly, I began to take off my clothes as my hands trembled. My tears and pleas didn’t affect Shabazz at all. He kept his gun steadied on me until I was literally butt naked. He then scooped up my clothes, hopped in his truck, and peeled out.

For the first twenty minutes I foolishly thought he’d come back for me. After an hour, realization sank in.

CHAPTER 14

Nico

On the Saturday morning of Jasmine’s birthday, I had gotten numerous calls from an unknown New Jersey number, and when I called it back it was a police precinct. I immediately hung up. I didn’t have a clue who was calling me from a precinct, but it didn’t sit too well with me.

The Haitian cartel I had connected BJ and Lo with came through. They had good product, and our organization was back up and running. That was a good look, but until I knocked off Bebo and Shabazz, I couldn’t break out the celebratory champagne just yet. Their product cost two stacks more per key than my former Columbian connect, but I knew once we began moving enough volume that they’d be more competitive with their pricing. And they only guaranteed the shipment as far as North Carolina. Our mules had to take the risk from North Carolina to New York, which was another problem that I could negotiate at a later date. Bebo’s alleged snitching was costing our organization money.

Ever since the impromptu meeting at the underground, Bebo had been on my ass. There was no way I was going to go with Bebo’s bullshit-ass plan to partner with other crews so we could all eat off the same package. I kept brushing him off, giving him excuse after excuse as to why I couldn’t link up and he was less than livid. His behavior was bordering on passive. Which if anyone truly knew Bebo, they would know he was a hothead. And doing a seven year bid didn’t mellow him out. The reason he hadn’t orchestrated a hit on not only me but Mia as well, was most likely because he was working for those peoples. The feds ain’t down with giving any green light to an assassination. They wanted me, and our crew, doing football numbers. As each day went by, I was starting to really believe that Bebo was a snitch and the rumor was no longer that. It was a muthafuckin’ hard fact.

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