The Trophy Wife Page 10

  “I see you out here getting it.” Kalil slapped hands with Peanut and released a slight grin.

  “Yeah, the early bird gets the worm,” Peanut said, repeating what Kalil had taught him years back.

  “What’s the deal?”

  “Nothing much. I wanted to holla at you about something. This D.C. cat came through the hood yesterday looking for you and shit.”

  “Looking for me?” Kalil asked.

  “Yeah. Dude was a stuntin’-ass nigga too. He had the new 6 Series joint with D.C. plates and all. He was flashing mad money too. He was giving niggas hundred-dollar bills to send the message to you.” Peanut nodded his head.

  Kalil’s street instincts began to kick in as he received the information. He scanned the block and then looked back at Peanut.

  Peanut noticed Kalil’s uptightness and then spoke up. “Nah, Kalil, he wasn’t on no beef shit. He said you two were good friends and he needed to link back up with you. I think he said his name was”—Peanut stopped mid-sentence, trying to remember the man’s name. He looked down and began to rub his goatee in an effort to jog his memory—“June! Yeah, his name was June. He left a number for you,” Peanut said as he took out his cell phone and flipped it open.

  When Kalil heard June’s name, he instantly knew who it was. June was his former cell mate in Rikers Island. June must’ve gotten out and is trying to do business. I guess he was serious. It would be good to see that crazy mu’fucka again, Kalil thought.

  A wave of relief overcame him. The mention of someone looking for him had him uneasy. He knew he had accumulated a lot of enemies by being in the streets all his life and quickly grew defensive.

  He looked at Peanut’s phone. “What’s the number?”

  As Peanut recited the numbers, Kalil made a mental note of it. He had a sharp memory and planned on giving June a call later. “Yo, I got to bounce. I’ma catch up with you later.” Kalil slapped Peanut’s hand.

  Peanut looked Kalil up and down and noticed his steel-toe boots and his work gloves that hung out his back pocket. He then looked at Kalil’s lunch pail. He never knew Kalil to be a nine-to-five type of person, just a bona fide hustler. He used to look up to Kalil and wanted to be just like him. While other kids wanted to be a fireman or a lawyer, Peanut wanted to be just like Kalil the dopeman. He used to see how much people respected Kalil, and Peanut admired the street fame. He couldn’t believe that Kalil was punching in on a clock.

  “I see you laying low for a minute. Those folks got you on paper, huh?” Peanut said, referring to Kalil being on probation. He looked Kalil square in the eye. “When you get back in, I want to get down.”

  Kalil knew that Peanut would be a trustworthy soldier. The gesture meant a lot to him. He knew that Peanut was one of Hova’s disciples and knowing that Peanut was ready and willing to leave that team was a display of pure loyalty, but he knew that he couldn’t take Peanut up on his offer. He was out of the game for good.

  “I can’t mess with the game anymore. I’ma catch up with you later though, lil’ man.”

  Just before Peanut could respond, something gained all of Kalil’s attention, causing him to look away from Peanut. An all-black Benz slowly crept up the block, with FATBOY on the plates. Fatboy had his window down and was so busy bobbing his head to his music, he didn’t notice Kalil. Kalil’s heartbeat sped up, and he involuntarily began to grit his teeth and clench his fist.

  Peanut noticed the sudden change in Kalil’s mood and followed his eyes to see Fatboy’s Benz park down the block. “I never liked that fat mu’fucka either,” Peanut said as he remembered back when Kalil used to tell him how grimy Fat- boy was and not to associate with him. “He fucks with the chick that stay right there.” Peanut threw his head in the direction of the house Fatboy was parked in front of.

  Kalil watched as Fatboy got out the car and scanned the block. Kalil dropped his head, hoping Fatboy didn’t notice him. Obviously Fatboy didn’t see him, because he hit his car alarm and proceeded to the house.

  Kalil talked through his clenched teeth. “You got the banger on you?”

  “You know it!” Peanut pulled out his black .45 pistol out of his waist and handed it to Kalil.

  Kalil looked at the gun in his hand and realized that it had been four years since the last time he had gripped a banger. He didn’t want to admit it, but it felt damn good to him. The images of Jada crying and balled up in the corner of her closet kept popping into his head. Rage quickly filled his heart and he was ready to put his murder game down. Soon after, the images of him sitting in a jail cell and Jada growing up without a father emerged. He wanted to get at Fatboy so badly. He was so close to revenge, he could taste it.

  Kalil gave Peanut the gun back and whispered to himself, “I can’t do this . . . I can’t.” And he headed toward the subway. That was one of the hardest things he’d ever had to do—walk away.

  “Oooh! Right there, Fatboy,” the young girl said as Fatboy’s face was buried into her crotch. Her legs were straight up in the air as Fatboy alternated between licking her clitoris and asshole. Fatboy was a certified freak and nothing was off-limits for him. He went the majority of his life being laughed at and teased for his weight and never got any play from the ladies, so when he began to make a little bit of money, he used it to his full advantage. His newfound street fame attained him instant popularity with the ladies, and he had a reputation for tricking off his money, causing all the local hood rats and sack-chasers to check for him. Fatboy’s motto was “It ain’t trickin’ if you got it,” and he definitely did have it. Fatboy was moving heavy weight within the city and was the only successful drug dealer in the area, besides Hova’s disciples.

  “Come here, ma.” Fatboy flipped over onto his back totally naked and held his dick firmly as he began to stroke it. The young girl began to straddle Fatboy and he guided her love box directly onto his lips. Fatboy used his tornado tongue and went to work. She rode his tongue as if it was his pipe, moving her body in wild circular motions. Fatboy’s dick was now standing at full attention and he was ready to lay it down.

  He forcefully pushed her off of his face, so hard that she plopped down on his fat belly. He picked her up and dropped her square on his pole. She began to ride him passionately as sweat dripped off of her body.

  The girl closed her eyes and pretended that she was sexing someone else besides Fatboy. She was totally disgusted by his sloppy appearance, but he paid to play and she was about her money.

  Fifteen minutes later Fatboy was putting on his pants and leaving the girl with semen all on her face. He finished getting dressed and admired the girl’s perfect frame and pretty face. He peeled off five crispy hundred-dollar bills, tossed it on her bed without saying a word, and walked out feeling rejuvenated.

  As Fatboy walked out the door he saw Peanut leaning on his car, his arms crossed, as if he was waiting on him.

  “What the fuck is you doing, lil’ nigga?” Fat- boy yelled. He put his hand under his shirt and gripped his pistol. He remembered Peanut from the block and knew that he was once Kalil’s lil’ man.

  “Nah, it ain’t like that.” Peanut lifted up his shirt to show Fatboy he wasn’t on any beef tip. “I just want to holla at you, Fatboy.”

  Fatboy was still cautious and kept his hand on his banger as he walked over to Peanut. “What you got to holla at me about? I don’t rock with you like that.”

  “Look, man, I’m trying to get down, man. I see you out here getting it and all.” Peanut turned back and looked at Fatboy’s new Benz.

  “Nah, son, I roll by myself. If you knew what was best for you, you would get the fuck off of my whip.” Fatboy walked up on Peanut.

  Peanut stepped to the side and let Fatboy get into his car. He tried explaining to Fatboy that he was trying to give him some valuable information and not trying any funny business. He stood outside’s Fatboy’s window and tried to put him up on game before he could speed off.

  “Yo, Kalil was asking about you,” Peanut blur
ted out, gaining Fatboy’s full attention.

  “Is that right?” Fatboy checked his rearview mirror. He knew that the next time he saw Kalil it was going to be trouble. He knew that what he did to Jada would cause any father to want to kill. He wasn’t going to get caught slipping. He rested his hand on his chrome .38 handgun that he had on his lap.

  “Yeah, but that bitch-ass nigga is gone already,” Peanut said with anger in his eyes.

  Fatboy examined Peanut and knew that he had ill feelings toward Kalil, from his facial expression. “I thought that was yo’ man?” Fatboy gripped his pistol, being extra cautious.

  “Yeah, he was, but since he’s been out, he’s been acting funny. He ain’t the same dude anymore. I don’t respect that man like I used to. So what up? Can we talk business?”

  Fatboy checked his mirrors again and then looked back at Peanut. He knew Peanut was sincere. “What business you talking about?”

  Peanut smiled, knowing that Fatboy was willing to listen. “I got this cat from out of town that wants some major weight, and I need a plug on them thangs,” he said, referring to bricks of cocaine. He approached Fatboy’s car.

  “I thought you worked for Hova. Why don’t you holla at him? I know he got them shits by the boatload,” Fatboy said.

  “Yeah, but I’m trying to do my own thing. I need a new source, nah mean? Hova try to stay in a nigga pocket. I don’t want him to know all my moves,” Peanut explained to Fatboy, moving his hands to emphasize his point.

  Fatboy could relate to Peanut. He knew how it felt when you were ready to become your own man and make your own moves. Fatboy put his pistol under his seat. Knowing that Peanut was serious, he was ready to talk business. He asked, “ ‘Bout how many he say he wanted?”

  “Like ten of them,” Peanut said confidently.

  Fatboy hit his unlock button. “Get in. Let’s talk business.”

  Peanut got in the car and started explaining the situation to Fatboy, and Fatboy, so eager to get some money, was all in.

  Fatboy and Peanut sat in the same spot for thirty minutes talking about their new partnership. Fatboy had lit up two blunts with Peanut as they sat there and talked.

  “Yo, I didn’t know you were cool like this, nah mean?” Fatboy passed the Dutch over to Peanut.

  “Yeah, I’m a real nigga. Kalil had me thinking you were a lame. You cool too.” Peanut hit the Dutch and inhaled deeply.

  “Yeah, man. I think we can really make some money together, man.” Fatboy reached out his hand and slapped palms with Peanut.

  “Yo, man, look in my eyes, fam,” Peanut said with a serious face. “I’ve been dying to tell you something.”

  “What’s that?” Fatboy asked as the weed took its effect on him.

  “Surprise,” he said in a low tone.

  Just then Fatboy felt cold steel pressed to the back of his head. It was Kalil standing outside of his driver’s-side door. Fatboy’s heart dropped as he realized he had been set up.

  Peanut smiled as he saw the instant change in Fatboy’s face. He then spat in Fatboy’s face when he thought about what he’d done to Kalil’s little girl. After Kalil had told him what Fatboy had done, Peanut was down for whatever. He hopped out the car and looked over at Kalil pressing his gun to Fatboy’s head.

  “Thanks, lil’ man,” Kalil said through his clenched teeth.

  “No doubt. I had to pretend I liked that fat fuck!” Peanut walked over to Kalil and prepared to get in the front seat.

  Kalil couldn’t fathom the thought of letting Fatboy get away. Fucking his chick was one thing, but he had crossed the line when he had touched Jada. So he turned back around and devised a plan to catch Fatboy slipping, and it worked like a charm.

  Kalil focused his attention on Fatboy and struck him across the face with his gun. “Move over, bitch-ass nigga!” Kalil grabbed Fatboy’s collar and shoved him over to the passenger-side seat.

  With his gun still pointed at Fatboy, he slid in and sat directly behind him, and Peanut slid into the driver’s side and pulled off.

  Kalil wanted to blow Fatboy’s brains out right then, but he remained patient. Almost.

  Whack! Whack! He hit Fatboy in the back of his head with the butt of the gun, causing blood to gush out.

  “Fuck!” Fatboy screamed as he held the back of his head. Blood trickled down his fingers and onto his all-white interior. “Yo, chill, man. I’m sorry, man!” Fatboy said as he came to the realization of life coming to an end.

  “How could you touch my daughter? How?” Kalil yelled. He reached around and punched Fatboy on the brim of his nose.

  “Aghh!” Fatboy grabbed his nose. All the wrong he had done began to eat at his conscience. He knew that touching on Jada was wrong, but he couldn’t help it. His uncontrollable urge got the better of him.

  Tears formed in Kalil’s eyes as he thought about his daughter and how her innocence was stripped away by the fat bastard that sat in front of him. He wanted to send the hollow-tip bullet directly into the back of Fatboy’s head, but he had to wait until Peanut pulled up to a low-key spot.

  Kalil choked Fatboy from behind and whispered in his ear, “Today you meet yo’ maker.”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Fatboy managed to squeal out as Kalil cut off his oxygen supply.

  Peanut pulled up to Central Park, where the morning joggers were doing their daily workout. He put the car in park and watched as Fatboy began to slip out of consciousness from Kalil choking him. He waited for the joggers to pass by and began to wipe down the door handles on the car. He didn’t want Kalil’s or his fingerprints to be left behind. He then jumped out of the car and into Quinn’s, who was waiting for them there.

  Kalil had everything mapped out and had called Quinn to tell him that he knew where Fatboy was. Quinn immediately jumped out of bed with his one-night stand and hurried over.

  “Yo, Kalil, I—”

  Boom!

  A single shot rang out before Fatboy could even finish his sentence. Kalil had let off a slug into the back of his dome, splattering his brains on the front dash and windows. The front window appeared as if it had red tint, because of all of the blood.

  Fatboy’s lifeless body slumped in the seat. Kalil slid out the driver’s-side door and into Quinn’s car, his adrenaline pumping as he stared at the bloodstained window and at Fatboy’s dead body. A sense of redemption overcame him as he rested his head on Quinn’s headrest.

  Peanut passed him his bandanna, and Kalil wiped off the murder weapon and tossed it out the window. And a huge burden was lifted off of Kalil’s heart as Quinn pulled off.

  Kalil hopped out of Quinn’s car and walked over to the construction site. He was an hour late for work and knew that his boss would be angry with him. What can I tell this mu’fucka? Kalil asked himself as he walked onto the site.

  “Yo, Kareem, or whatever your fucking name is, you’re late!” his boss said as he was loading a truck with cement bricks.

  “I know. I can explain though. My—”

  “I don’t give a fuck why you’re late. Drop off your fucking hard hat and get the fuck off my property. You’re fired!” he yelled, not even bothering to look at Kalil.

  “Wait, I really need this job. I had an emergency.” Kalil followed his boss around, trying to get him to talk to him.

  “You’re fired! I do not need anyone slowing us down. Time is money, brutha,” the Italian said as he brushed past Kalil.

  Kalil got the picture and threw his hard hat at the man and walked off. Fuck this shit, man! I don’t need this. I ain’t cut out for this. I’m a hustler, and that’s what I do! Kalil’s mind began to race. He knew that he’d made a bad judgment call by going after Fatboy and causing himself to be late. But he had to handle the situation with Fatboy. For Jada.

  Kalil headed to the subway and headed home. He had a phone call to make. He was about to get back in the game, where he’d be his own boss. The thought of June popped in his head, and he knew that he would be trying to make some mov
es. Kalil was about to get on his hustle.

  Chapter Ten

  “Okay, you are all set, young lady. You will be sore for a few days, but you should be fine.” The doctor walked over to Jake and shook his hand.

  “Thanks for coming through, Doc. If she needs you, I will give you a call.”

  The doctor left the room, and fear took over London’s body as Jake stood over her.

  “I’m sorry, London. I just get so angry all the time. I do love you, though. I don’t want to lose you.”

  “I love you too,” she responded, afraid that he would harm her.

  “Do you need anything?”

  It was obvious that he was feeling guilty about the way he had acted the night before and he was trying hard to make things up to her.

  “I just need to get to the dance school,” she told him as she attempted to get up.

  “That can wait for a couple days. You need to rest. In a few days you can go back. I have a surprise for you.” Jake pulled out a small box.

  London already knew what it was. Jake would always shower her with expensive gifts after he would beat her. He opened the box and displayed the five-karat diamond cross that hung on a thin platinum chain.

  “Thank you, Jake,” London said, a phony smile plastered on her face. She grimaced because of her swollen jaw, but tried her hardest to hide her discomfort.

  London turned on her side as a tear ran down her cheek. She needed to see Kalil. She had to see him. He was the only person who made her feel safe. After last night, I don’t know what he is capable of. That is the worst that it has ever been, and I’m not willing to risk my life by being with him anymore. The first chance I get, I am leaving. I can wait a couple days, but when I do get out of this house, I’m never coming back.