Wifey, Part 2

by Erica Hilton

  “Please just don’t hurt me. Please. Jasmine, you don’t have to do this. I swear, you don’t. You know how long we go back, Jasmine, and you know I wouldn’t say nothing to nobody. Jasmine, I won’t hurt you. You know that, Jasmine.”

  Jasmine kept quiet.

  “I told you to shut the fuck up!” Homicide punched Simone squarely in the face, and she dropped to the ground like a rag doll. He then dragged her by her hair into the living room.

  Jasmine knew what was about to happen and couldn’t watch.

  Simone tried to put up a fight, but Homicide kicked her in the ribs the same way he had at Ish’s house. Simone immediately clutched her stomach in pain and doubled over on the ground.

  Homicide grabbed one of the cushions from the couch and placed it over Simone’s head and mashed her head to the floor, suffocating her. Simone was trying to free herself, and she put up the best struggle she could, but her screams were muffled by the cushion.

  Homicide knew the cushion would also muffle the gun blast.

  BLAOW!

  One gun blast from Homicide’s gun sent a bullet right through Simone’s head and blood splattering on the floor. Simone’s body went limp. When Homicide removed the pillow from Simone’s face, it was clear that she was dead. Her eyes were wide open, but there was no life in her body.

  Jasmine walked into the living room, and it was so eerie to her. Simone’s eyes were still open, and it looked like she was staring at her. She couldn’t help but tremble at the sight of her dead friend.

  “Go find some bleach, and see if you can find some gloves,” Homicide instructed.

  Jasmine went to her kitchen and found plastic gloves that Simone used to wash dishes, and then she looked in the cabinets and found Clorox, and she brought it for Homicide.

  “Get me some water too,” he told her.

  Jasmine ran and got a large glass of water, and then she ran into the bathroom and grabbed the first two towels she saw. She knew what Homicide wanted to do.

  With the bleach, water, and towels, Jasmine and Homicide took about fifteen minutes and wiped down Simone’s apartment. They made sure to wipe all of the doorknobs and surface areas clean of any fingerprints. Once the apartment was wiped clean, Homicide poured bleach all over the couch cushion. Then he looked around to make sure there were no security cameras anywhere.

  Jasmine saw Simone’s phone on the floor and picked it up. She started to go through her text messages and noticed no recent BBM messages or text messages. Then she looked at her call log and saw that Simone had called her on-again, off-again lover Carlos at five o’clock in the morning and spoke to him for half an hour, and also spoke to him again at seven in the morning.

  Homicide asked, “We good?”

  “We have to make one more stop.” Jasmine showed him the phone.

  Homicide nodded and then he and Jasmine left the apartment. They made sure all of the lights were off, all of the shades and blinds were drawn closed, and the door was locked. As they walked back to Homicide’s truck, he looked at all the houses in close proximity to Simone’s, checking for security cameras. He didn’t see any cameras that could have captured him and Jasmine going to or exiting Simone’s apartment.

  Jasmine and Homicide then headed to Carlos’ apartment, and a similar murder scene played itself out, with Carlos also losing his life.

  “Dead witnesses are the best witnesses,” Homicide joked.

  Jasmine was way too distraught to make light of the deaths of her two friends.

  When it was all said and done, it took weeks before Simone’s and Carlos’ bodies were found inside their apartments. Jasmine cried her eyes out daily over the loss of her best female friend.

  When the story hit the news, police investigators theorized that there must have been some kind of love triangle gone bad. Although they couldn’t link Ish to the deaths of Carlos and Simone since he had the best alibi in the world being in jail, Ish’s name still emerged as the main person of interest.

  Forty-Six

  After the murders of Simone and Carlos, Jasmine was drained physically, mentally, and emotionally. She explained to Homicide that she needed to go to Long Island for a few days to get the info on Nico they would need in order to retire. The truth was that Jasmine really needed to go to Long Island so she could get a few days to herself and not feel like she was going to go crazy and have a nervous breakdown. Homicide was cool with her going to Long Island, but he was certain to remind her not to let Nico fuck her.

  As far as Jasmine was concerned, sex was the last thing on her mind. She loved sex, but she wasn’t a sex machine. And over the past couple of days, she had experienced something she had never experienced before when she fucked three different guys within a twenty-four-hour period. Jasmine wanted to give her pussy a much-needed rest, and was hoping that her period came so she would have a good built-in excuse not to fuck.

  When she got to her and Nico’s house, Nico wasn’t there because he was visiting with BJ, who was scheduled to be released from the hospital within two days. But Nico still wanted to go check him.

  Jasmine was glad Nico wasn’t there. The first thing she did was run a warm bubble bath in the Jacuzzi bathtub in the master bathroom. It was the most relaxing bath she remembered taking. She stayed in the bathtub for more than an hour and a half, periodically adding new hot water to keep the bathwater at a nice, warm, relaxing temperature.

  After the bath was over, Jasmine got out and dried herself off and put baby oil all over her body, and she put on a bra and a pair of panties. Although it was mid-afternoon, she got in the bed and went to sleep.

  Like the relaxing bath she had just taken, Jasmine was now experiencing some of the best sleep she’d had in years. She slept and slept, and it felt like she had been hibernating like a bear in the woods. But when Nico came home and woke her up, she realized she had actually only been sleeping for a little over four hours.

  “You sleeping?” Nico asked her after he walked into the room.

  “I was sleeping until you just woke me up.”

  “My bad.”

  Jasmine removed the bed sheet from over her head and explained to Nico how she had got home real late because she almost caught a DWI charge with Simone.

  “Get the fuck outta here.” Nico then asked her to tell him what happened.

  Jasmine lied and told Nico that the Bridge and Tunnel officer had allowed her to pull in front of the barrack offices near the bridge and sleep off the liquor, and he didn’t charge her.

  “He tried to holler at you?”

  “No, not at all.”

  “You lucky then.”

  Jasmine sat up in the bed. “How is BJ doing?”

  “He’s coming home in two days, but the nigga is fucked up. He has to wear that smelly-ass bag and shit for the rest of his life. A nurse or a health aide-type chick is going to have to come to his house every day and help him clean the bag, so he won’t get no infections or nothing like that.”

  “Poor baby.”

  Jasmine got up out of the bed and checked her phone. Then she put it in her bag and discreetly started recording with her other phone, which was also in her bag.

  “BJ talking about getting back in the mix and shit when he comes home. And I didn’t wanna crush the nigga’s heart or nothing, but I’m saying to myself, BJ, dog, you gotta get out the game. With them kind of injuries, he can’t be scrambling on the streets like he needs to. You know what I’m saying?”

  Jasmine nodded.

  “We got a shipment coming from the Haitians in two days. They gonna do the drop near that vacant warehouse in Brooklyn Bridge Park, and this nigga BJ is saying he wanna be there.”

  “With a colostomy bag? That’s like somebody trying to rob a bank in a wheelchair,” Jasmine joked.

  “Exactly.”

 
Jasmine got out of the bed and looked for something to put on.

  “I just told him that we’ll send two of them young gun muthafuckas from Ish’s crew. And since Ish is locked up, we can just move them under BJ and have them report to him.”

  “What did he say when you said that?” Jasmine asked, putting on her jeans.

  “I mean, he’s with it. You know he reminds me of one of those boxers that don’t know when to hang it up, always want one more prize fight.”

  Jasmine reached for a shirt to put on. “And then they end up punch-drunk and talking with slurred speech for the rest of their life.”

  “That’s what I’m saying.”

  Jasmine walked out of the room as if she could have cared less about what Nico was saying. “I need aspirin. I still got a slight queasy feeling from these Henny Coladas that me and Simone was drinking.”

  Nico followed Jasmine down to the kitchen. He changed the subject to something completely different. He had already planted the seed of information into her brain and was ready to sit back and see what that seed would grow into.

  Forty-Seven

  The day before Nico’s shipment of drugs was scheduled to arrive in Brooklyn Bridge Park, Jasmine met with Agent Gosling at Argentina Steak House, located on Queens Boulevard, not too far from the mall. It was the first time Gosling and Jasmine had met or spoken since the day he had fucked her twice.

  Gosling had on a brand-new golf shirt, new slacks, and new shoes, and he had a fresh new haircut. He also had on a small gold chain that was visible, since he didn’t button the three buttons to his shirt. Gosling’s exposed arms looked shiny, and so did his chest and neck area. Jasmine couldn’t help but think of how fatherly he looked. He wasn’t ugly or anything like that, but she just viewed him in a completely platonic way. But it was obvious to her that Gosling had purposely come to the meeting looking his version of freshly dipped.

  When Jasmine first walked into the restaurant, Gosling was waiting in the lobby for her. And when he saw her, he walked up to her and gave her a hug, something he had never done before. His 1990s era-smelling cologne was so strong, it almost made Jasmine’s eyes water. She could also smell liquor on his breath.

  If Gosling tried to push up on her for sex, she was going to tell him that she had her period and a yeast infection. She was not trying to form a habit where every time they were to meet up he would be expecting to fuck.

  “How are you?” Gosling asked.

  “I’m good.”

  “Before we start talking, I just wanted to say, about the other day, it shouldn’t have happened. But I also wanted to make sure I thanked you.”

  His comments seemed weird to Jasmine, but she just nodded and told him that she understood.

  The hostess seated Gosling and Jasmine.

  “I want you to hear this.” Jasmine took out her BlackBerry and played Nico’s words from the other night.

  Gosling started to smile; it was clear he was excited. “When is two days?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?” Gosling was concerned that he would have to scramble to get agents in place to help with the raid and the takedown.

  “I didn’t call you because my gut tells me it’s bullshit.”

  “What if it’s not bullshit? We could never get a shot like this again. I want to at least have agents in place.”

  Jasmine shook her head.

  “That’s the thing. If it’s a setup and Nico spots any agents near that area scoping the place out, he’ll never trust me again. Never!”

  Gosling thought to himself for a minute. “We have to send somebody.”

  “Gosling, please just trust me on this.”

  “I do trust you. Okay, how about this? I know that park, and it’s real kid-friendly, right on the water, newly renovated, and everything is visible. So I’ll call Agent Battle and have her get four female agents who have small kids. I’ll send the agents into the park on different shifts for blocks of like three hours. They’ll be in the park with their kids and baby strollers and stuff like that, looking very normal and blending in. This way, if something does go down, we would be able to get some kind of visual observation.

  Jasmine felt comfortable with that plan, but she warned Gosling not to send in any unmarked cars and no men, and she also reminded him not to make any arrests or else her credibility with Nico would be shot. Gosling gave her his word.

  After they were done speaking, Jasmine ordered an appetizer and a Sprite. She wasn’t trying to hang around Gosling longer than she had to. So within twenty minutes after she had arrived at the Steak House, she was leaving, headed back to her and Nico’s house.

  As it turned out, the next day a drug deal went down in Brooklyn Bridge Park without a hitch at nine thirty in the morning. A young black FBI agent was there near the empty warehouse with her baby, and Nico’s young up-and-coming soldiers never suspected a thing. They did see a young black mom taking pictures of her baby, but that didn’t seem odd to them at all. What they didn’t know was that mother was snapping high-resolution pictures of them as well.

  God must have been on Jasmine’s side because she was clueless to the fact that she had spared the life of both of her parents. As far as Nico was concerned, she had passed a huge test and would live to see another day.

  Forty-Eight

  Nico had been spending a lot of time in his house, which was unusual for him, because he was always on the go and out and about. Nico would have never admitted it to anyone, but the truth was, he feared his rival Prince, who was slowly taking over the drug trade in all five boroughs of New York. Prince was ruthless and would gun somebody down in broad daylight whether there were eyewitnesses or not.

  Nico had to come back to New York when he had because everything was falling apart around him, including his reputation. All the people he trusted were either dead, in jail, or injured, and he didn’t really know how to move. It was like there were two sets to Ghetto Mafia. Nico’s set and Bebo’s set. When Bebo had first gotten killed, Ghetto Mafia was on the verge of a civil war. People from Bebo’s set were convinced that Nico had something to do with his murder, and they planned on getting revenge.

  But once Prince had shot up Bebo’s funeral, the people loyal to Bebo had a slight change of heart and had to come to grips with the fact that it just might have been Prince who had gunned down Bebo. Everyone knew Prince had killed Lo and maimed BJ, so common sense said that he very well could have been the one that needed to be targeted, not Nico.

  So Nico chose to stay in the safe haven of his house until Prince either got killed or locked up. He wasn’t bold enough to go hunt him down and kill him. Nico knew Prince was smart, and he didn’t want to slip up somehow and have Prince turn the tables on him if he went after him.

  With Nico home and Jasmine home, Nico almost by default started to talk about things on the phone while in her presence. One morning, about a week after the drug transaction in Brooklyn Bridge Park, Jasmine woke up but stayed in the bed and acted like she was still sleeping. Nico was talking on his cell phone loud enough for her to hear what he was saying. But the thing was, he was talking in codes, and she couldn’t make heads or tails of what he was saying.

  Nico eventually walked out of the room, and Jasmine stayed in the bed for twenty more minutes before she made her way down to the kitchen and started to make breakfast. While she prepared waffle batter, Nico walked up to her and kissed her on the cheek.

  “What was that for?”

  “I just wanted to kiss you.”

  ”What else you want?”

  “Whatever you feel like making is cool with me.”

  Jasmine told him that she was going to make an omelet and hash browns to go with the waffles.

  “Let me ask you something,” Nico said.

  Jasmine looked at him, so he w
ould know that he had her attention.

  “We got this major deal going down in Miami and—”

  Jasmine stopped mixing the waffle batter and held up her hand. “Wait, I want to be crystal clear on something. I don’t want you telling me anything about what you do, about any drug deals, anything happening in the street, or none of that. Because if you noticed, the past couple of weeks have been so cool, I been waking up and making breakfast. I been cooking dinner. We haven’t been arguing or anything. And I realized that it seemed like we went off the track when you lost trust in me and you was thinking I was talking to the police. So the best way to solve that is to just not tell me anything, and then we’ll have peace and harmony. Okay? And I’m not saying that in a smart-ass way. I’m just being honest.”

  Nico shook his head. “You wrong about that. I never stopped trusting you. You always read too much into my moods. I be stressed about all kinds of shit. Muthafuckas trying to gun me down and take over blocks and corners that I built up. Shit like that be weighin’ on a nigga. And while I’m dealing with bug shit, I don’t have time for no pillow-talk bullshit.”

  “I’m not talking about pillow talk.”

  “Whatever, Jasmine. I’m not fighting you. I need your advice on some shit! Gotdamn!”

  “Okay, so what’s up?” Jasmine stopped what she was doing and gave Nico her full attention. Her BlackBerry was on the kitchen counter recording every word.

  “I’m supposed to meet with this Haitian nigga named Patrick down in Miami. All these Haitian dudes named Patrick or Pierre, but this Patrick ain’t the same Patrick who runs shit. The Patrick who runs shit got murdered two weeks back. And this new Patrick is the other Patrick’s lieutenant. He’s like BJ to me. But the thing is, I don’t know if he had something to do with his boss getting killed, and I’m going back and forth in my head about trusting this nigga. I don’t know if I should find a new connect or just trust this dude.”