Bitch Reloaded # 4 Read online

  "You bitch, I'ma kill you." The dude reached down to get his hammer.

  "Not tonight, motherfucker," I said as I cocked my nine and sparked off two shots. One hit the side of his face the other went through his neck. Blood was everywhere. I looked around as I got out the car and walked to the driver's side. I opened the door and pushed the niggas body to the passenger side. Luckily he was an average-sized dude, so I was able to maneuver him. I then drove up to that same side street where he planned to tie me up. I had to focus. No way was I going to get the cops involved with this, but I had to get rid of this niggas body. From him scratching my face and pulling my hair, my DNA was all over his body. There was no way I could leave the dude on side of the road. Shit, I watched "CSI" they were no joke. He had to be disposed of permanently. But I would need the help of a man for a job of this magnitude.

  At first I considered calling Nathan, but that was a no go. He seemed loyal but he was also legal. He wasn't no street nigga that knew how to dump bodies and shit like that. He would no doubt want me to notify the police, which wasn't even negotiable. I only knew of one person I could call who would know how to make this problem go away. I'd owe him, but my back was against the wall. I located my purse and got my cell phone. I slowly dialed his number, hoping that another person that could help would pop in my mind, but I knew there was no one else. "I need you."

  Forty-five minutes later a silver Aston Martin pulled up behind me. I jumped out, actually relieved help had arrived.

  "It must be killing you that you had to call me, huh?"

  "Mike, ask me questions later. Right now we have to get rid of this body and my car."

  "The car I saw on the side of the road, is it the dead man's?"

  "Yes."

  "All your paperwork and whatever else you need, take it out your car. After we leave, two of my men are coming to take the vehicles and dispose of the body."

  "So what, we're leaving?"

  "Of course, I have trained professionals that know how to handle this. Just go get your belongings. I'll meet you in my car." I hated turning to Mike for help, but he was the man I needed. I went through the car and trunk three times, making sure I didn't leave a thing. Before I left, I went through the dude's pockets and took his wallet. When I was alone I would go through it and find out his name and if anything led to Nico's location.

  "OK, I'm ready." Hesitantly, I jumped into Mike's car.

  After five minutes of driving, Mike finally broke the silence. "Are you ready to tell me what happened?"

  "Not really, but I guess I do owe you an explanation."

  "Without a doubt, especially since I'm the last person I thought you'd call to get out a jam. But then again this isn't no ordinary situation."

  "No it's not. The long and the short of it, that dead nigga is B-Boy cousin. He followed me from the Heights, or maybe from before that. His slick ass probably fucked wit' my tire, too. Don't mind me, I'm just thinking out loud here. But anyway, when I pulled off the highway he slammed his car into me. Next thing I know this nigga got a knife to my throat telling me how he gonna torture and slice me up. Of course he didn't know that I had my bitch wit' me, and I was able to turn the tables and light that nigga up."

  "Precious, you are truly a piece of work. You're either the smartest woman I know or the luckiest."

  "I think it's a combination of both. My decision to call you will be the deal breaker though."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "It means, can I count on you to handle the situation without it being traced back to me?'

  Mike slowed down his driving and glanced at me. "I know what I'm doing. Having people and things disappear is easier than you think, if you know what you're doing. And you know I know what I'm doing- that's why you called me."

  "Can I trust you won't use this against me in the future?"

  "I can't promise you that."

  I shook my head in disgust. "I knew I couldn't trust you."

  "Of course you can't, just like I can't trust you. But you calling me to get you out of this dilemma is taking us one step closer to that. Trust is earned and through this incident we are earning each other's trust. I didn't have to help you, and you didn't have to ask for my help, but you did. So now we share something of importance."

  "So why did you help me? What did you get out of it?"

  "Hopefully, you. It's quite obvious that I've wanted you since the moment I saw you in that club. That hasn't changed. I've been patient, only because I know you're worth the wait."

  "I can't get involved with you. It would never work."

  "You say that now, but a month ago if someone said I would be helping you get rid of a body, you would've spit in their face. Now here we are driving off together, sharing a secret that could now send both of us to jail. So, never say never.

  I put my head down, knowing that he was right. If I was honest with myself, I could see me and Mike in a relationship. The same way he wanted me the first time he saw me in the club, I had a strong attraction to him. But I was in love with Supreme then, and I knew he was the man for me. It didn't stop the lure of Mike. The main road block between us was that he was treacherous. Two treacherous people together were a lethal combination. Look what happened between me and Nico. I didn't want nor need that sort of drama again. But then again, never say never.

  (Off "la

  It had been a week since Mike came through and saved the day. I had only spoken to him once after that, and it was when he called letting me know not to worry because my uncle was in a peaceful place. Which meant B-Boy's cousin was somewhere buried in no man's land. After going through the dead man's wallet, his New York license said his government name was Antwon O'Neal. He was from the boogie down Bronx. I knew his family would be looking for him, including Nico since that was his heroin connect. I wondered if Nico was in on Antwon's scheme to kill me, or if he planned on sharing the news with his long time buddy after dismembering my body. It was irrelevant now. Antwon was dead and gone, while I lived. In the middle of my pondering, I was interrupted by my cell phone ringing. "Hello."

  "Hi, Precious, it's me Jamal."

  "How are you?"

  "Good. I was calling to see if you were still up for that dinner I promised?"

  "That's right, how could I forget about that invitation."

  "Yeah, because Nina is looking forward to meeting you."

  "Nina, your fiancee, of course. When would you like for me to come over?"

  "I know it's last minute but how about tonight?"

  "Tonight, why not, what time?"

  "Is eight okay?"

  "No problem."

  "You have a pen?"

  "Hold on." I grabbed a pen and wrote down his address. I was curious about Jamal's fiancee but mentally I wasn't really up to meeting her tonight. So much other shit was on mind. Killing Antwon, figuring out Nico's whereabouts, but mostly Mike, I couldn't get him off my mind. He was cold and calculating, but I knew underneath that he had a gentle side. He had so many layers, but each one was so intriguing. I had never met anyone like Mike before. He was the first kingpin I knew that was able to really take the game to a legitimate level and make even more paper. The nigga was huge in the music business. He had mad respect in the industry but still managed to generate that same love from the streets. He had the best of both worlds. He was a hustler for real.

  All that said, I still felt I needed to fall back. My heart was still aching over Supreme's death, and I reasoned that, that pain would never stop. One day I would have to move on and find a man that could hold it down for me, but I wasn't ready yet. I held on tightly to my pink diamond heart. "Love for life."

  When I arrived at Jamal's condo at Trump Place on Riverside Boulevard I was in awe. "Damn that nigga really came up," I said to myself. His condo was spacious with high ceilings and a banging view of the Hudson River. All that studying and hitting them books had really paid off.

  "Jamal, your place is crazy. I'm really proud of you."
r />   "That means a lot to me." I gave Jamal a quizzical look because for the first time it really dawned on me how much my approval meant to him. Realizing that also made me feel guilty about how I kicked him to the curb after I sexually turned him out. But he had moved on. So I guess everything worked out for the best.

  "Where's the soon-to-be blushing bride?"

  "She's finishing up in the kitchen."

  "Oh, she cooks too. How nice." I hoped my sarcasm wasn't detected.

  "Here's my beautiful wife now." I almost wanted to scream. When Nina walked up, I was quite impressed. She was very pretty. With her brown skin, coal black long hair and exotic features, she put me in the mind of Beverly Johnson back in her supermodel days.

  "It's nice to meet you. Jamal has told me so much about you," Nina said, shaking my hand.

  "I'm sure not everything."

  "Yes, he's shared it all," Miss Nina stated with much confidence in her voice. With her pleated pants and white cotton button-down shirt, she seemed all prim and proper, but Nina had some gangsta in her. Trust, I know a gangstress when I saw one. "So, Precious, would you like something to drink?"

  "Actually, this bag in my hand is a bottle of vintage Dom Perignon."

  "Thank you, that's so nice."

  "Can't come to someone's home empty-handed." The real reason I bought my own liquor was because I don't trust a bitch. She might spit in my shit. We were going to open this bottle right here in my view.

  "I'll take that and put it in the refrigerator, so it can get nice and cold."

  "No need, it's already chilled. You can just get some glasses and we're good to go." Nina didn't flinch when she turned to go get the champagne glasses. The chick handled herself with coolness.

  "I see why you're so smitten, Nina is something else," I stated, turning to Jamal.

  After drinking some champagne, we sat down at the table for dinner. I was leery about eating her food, but she laid it out buffet style and I figured we were all digging from the same plate, if she fucked up my food she fucked up hers too. I doubted she would torture herself like that.

  "How's everything?"

  "Wonderful, baby," Jamal said, reaching over and lovingly rubbing her hand.

  "Yeah, these mashed potatoes are incredible. I need to learn how to cook."

  "Especially if you plan on keeping a man." Nina smiled then caught the glare coming from Jamal. "I'm so sorry, Precious, how rude of me. It slipped my mind that you recently lost your husband. Please forgive me," Nina pleaded sounding sincere.

  "No apology necessary. So how did you guys meet?" After Nina's comment it had gotten way too intense, and I needed to get the spotlight off me.

  "On the set of a music video," Jamal said with a big grin on his face.

  "I was playing one of the leads and Jamal stopped by to see how the shoot was going, and we clicked."

  Ain't this some shit? I knew that whole librarian persona she was trying to pull off was some bullshit. It was all making sense. That bitch probably performed bedroom tricks on Jamal that he had only seen in porno movies. When we fucked we were young and inexperienced. I was hardly the pro and neither was he. Between Rhonda and Supreme I knew how those chicks on the video sets were putting it down. Most rappers that had any sort of clout wouldn't even let a bitch step foot on the set unless she was coming out those thongs and getting down on her knees.

  "How nice, so was that the first video you worked on?"

  "No, it was my fourth or fifth. It was my first for Atomic Records though." Just like I thought, a ho-fessional.

  "I'm glad I stopped by that day, or I wouldn't have met my future wife." Nina leaned over and gave Jamal a passionate kiss on the lips. Jamal was in way over his head. He wasn't ready for the type of tricks this bitch had up her sleeves. I hoped she didn't have him too open, but my female intuitions told me she did.

  I lingered around and made idle chat until the bottle of Dom P. was finished. I enjoyed talking to Jamal, but Nina was getting on my damn nerves with all that mushy shit. She was trying way too hard to come off as some loving, doting, girlfriend. It was making me nauseated. Especially since I knew she was nothing more than a paper chaser who had lucked up and found a long-term sponsor in Jamal. Now understand, I wasn't hating on the chick's hustle, because I was the queen of hustle. What bothered me most was her phony ass acting all sweet and innocent when in actuality she was a straight up ho. If she was running this game on any other man, I'd tell her to get that money, but she wasn't. She was doing this to Jamal. He was my first. Nah, I was never in love with the nigga, not even puppy love, but I always admired his intelligence and respected his drive. To see him taken for a ride by some scandalous two-cent video chick was rubbing me the wrong way. But then again, who was I to judge.

  "Thank you for having me over, and Nina, dinner was incredible. It's getting late, and I really need to get home."

  "Are you okay to drive? You had a few glasses of champagne.

  "No, my driver's downstairs waiting so I'm in good hands." Jamal gave me a hug goodnight, and Nina and I gave each other fake hugs and air kisses. That bitch really thought she was about to start living the glamorous life.

  The next day, I was in the den reading over the documents my lawyer had drawn up to give to Atomic Records. We were seeking millions of dollars for them to buy the rights to Supreme's music, but something was telling me to hold up before signing over part of his legacy. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hand over what I considered to be the last piece of Supreme's soul. In the midst of my mulling over my decision, I heard Anna calling for me. "I'm in the den Anna."

  "Mrs. Mills, there is a woman by the name of Nina on the phone for you." Why in the fuck was Nina calling me? I thought to myself.

  "Thanks, I'll pick up the call in here." I paused and stared at the phone for a moment, wondering what the trick had up her sleeve. "What up, Nina?"

  "Hi, Precious. I hope you don't mind me calling, but it was Jamal's suggestion." Hmm, blame it on your fiancee. "We have floor seats to the Knicks game, but something came up and Jamal can't make it. He thought I should invite you."

  "I think I'll pass."

  "I don't want to go by myself, and I would hate to waste these tickets- they're very expensive."

  "I'm sure, but you don't have no homegirls you can call?"

  "No, I've never had a lot of female friends. That's why Jamal suggested I call you. He speaks so highly of you Precious. He thinks we would get along great. Please, I really don't want the tickets to go to waste."

  I let out a deep sigh, dreading to go anywhere with Miss Nina. My gut told me she was bad news, not for me, but for Jamal. I guess it wouldn't kill me to go with her; at least I could get a better idea what her real intentions were regarding him. "Fine, I'll go. What time should I be ready?"

  "Thank you so much. You can meet me at my place around six-thirty. We can leave from here."

  "Oh, I thought that was Jamal's place, moved in already?"

  "Pretty much, I'm basically here all the time."

  "Well, I'll see you at six-thirty." I hung up the phone and realized I only had a couple of hours before it would be time to go.

  Surprisingly the traffic wasn't that bad, and I arrived at Jamal's place right on time. I figured I would drive so I called Nina and told her to come downstairs. She strutted out the building with a form fitting top and skin tight pants. I guess since Jamal wasn't around she could leave her librarian outfit at home. "Damn, this shit is hot," Nina said admiring my baby blue Bentley.

  "Thanks."

  "Damn, you really came off marrying Supreme. I know you must be living fly. I didn't get to attend y'alls wedding but I heard it was like that. Plus I saw the pictures in In Style magazine.

  "Yeah, it's hard to think about all that, when a few months later you're attending your husband's funeral." Nina put her head down with a look of shame for making such a shallow comment.

  When we sat down courtside mad heads were in the place. I had never been to a Kn
icks game, but the shit was cool. It was a totally different vibe than watching it on television. With the music, amped crowd and all the celebrities it felt more like a party, but only the lights were on. With the players dribbling the ball up and down the court, it was weird having them up close in your face like that.

  "You know I use to mess with one of the players on the Knicks." Nina sounded as if she was trying to brag when she made the admission.

  "Good for you," I responded nonchalantly

  "He wasn't no star player though, just a benchwarmer. If I could've landed a superstar like Stephon Marbury, I would've hit the jackpot. But somebody beat me to him. He's married. His wife is beautiful, too, her name is Tasha. She be at the games all the time. Could you see yourself marrying a basketball player, Precious?"

  "Nah, my men need a little gangsta wit' them. Like Nas say "Make sure he's a thug and intelligent too."

  "I feel you. I love me a thug ass-nigga." I turned all the way around in my seat and gave Nina the craziest look. We both knew that Jamal was as intelligent as they come, but a thug he was not. "I mean I used to like thugs, before I fell in love with Jamal," she said, trying to do damage control. I knew I was right about Nina. She was acting like the hot box that she was now that Jamal was nowhere in sight. The true Nina was showing her face, and all I could do was shake my head. Jamal had his head so far up in Nina's pussy; there was no way to warn him about his trifling fiancee. He would just have to find out the hard way. A ho could only hide her stripes but for so long. Hopefully Jamal would figure that out before walking down the aisle with the hussy. If not, it wouldn't be too long before they ended up in divorce court.

  After the game Nina and I stopped by The Garden bar and restaurant where the courtside ticket-holders kicked it. By the time I finished my second drink, I was ready to go home. As I drove Nina home she made it clear that she didn't want the night to end. "One of the players for the Knicks is having an after party at Taj. We should go."