Wrath of a Side Chick 4 (Side Chick's Wrath)

by Tamicka Higgins

  “Well, tell your roommate she need to watch how she talk to me when she walk up in my house,” Ray said. “And especially if she up in here lookin’ for some nigga that don’t even stay here. Where the fuck they do that at?”

  Needing to control the situation, Nikki pulled the gun out of her pocket. In one swift move, she pointed it at the side of Ray’s head and pressed the barrel into his scalp. He froze, slowly lifting his hands up to show that he wasn’t going to try anything. “Okay, okay,” Ray said. “We ain’t gotta do all this. We ain’t gotta do all this. I’m just sayin’, Breon don’t live here.” Ray’s heart thumped.

  “That’s coo, but I need to talk to him,” Nikki said. “Why the fuck that nigga just gon’ leave me like I’m some old rag or somethin’ when that nigga Dante got me locked up in some house then some fuckin’ basement, all over some shit that got to do with him and Breon? Callin’ me the side chick and shit.” Nikki’s lips were extra crisp. “Let’s not sit up and act like you don’t know what the fuck I’m talkin’ about, nigga. I know you do.”

  “Okay, okay,” Ray said, nodding his head very cautiously. “Yeah, I know and shit. He told me and shit and we was gon’ come get you, but…”

  “But what, mothafucka?” Nikki asked. “But what?”

  “But we knew that if we did some shit like that,” Ray lied, “Dante was just gon’ kill you. Swear to God, I know that nigga and he wouldn’t do no shit like just leave you there and shit. I swear, on everything, that he wouldn’t do no shit like that.”

  “That’s all y’all niggas do is lie,” Nikki said, shaking his head. “I heard what the nigga said about me when Dante called him and shit… When I was locked up in some fuckin’ house somewhere thinkin’ that I was gon’ die or be turned into a sex slave or somethin.”

  “He was just sayin’ whatever you heard him say ‘cause he ain’t want Dante to kill you or nothin’ like that,” Ray said. “I’m tellin’ you, that’s the real deal.”

  “Where is that nigga Breon now?” Nikki asked. “Where the fuck he at?”

  “I don’t know,” Ray said. “I ain’t talked to him yet. “Actually, I was just about to call him and shit ‘cause we was supposed to be goin’ and lookin’ for that nigga Dante, and you, tonight, ‘cause we thought that you was still held kidnapped and shit. Swear to God, on everything that I love and know. That’s what we goin’ to do tonight. I don’t even think the nigga went to work. We even went and looked for you last night at this house and shit, but you wasn’t there.”

  “Yeah, right,” Nikki said, looking Ray up and down. “You look like you full of shit. I swear you do.”

  Nikki, feeling her blood pressure rise to danger levels, turned the gun away from Ray’s head. She knew she needed to get her point across to him – needed to make sure that he understood just how serious this was. She’d felt his eyes on her scratches and bruises when she’d walked in the door behind Gracelyn. From her point of view, if you’re not a part of the solution, then you’re a part of the problem. Feeling empowered, and quite frankly enraged, Nikki pointed the gun at a glass kitchen cabinet. Closing one eye, as she’d never fired a gun before in her life, she pulled the trigger. Everyone flinched when they’d heard the gun go off and the glass in the kitchen shatter. Nikki cracked a smile as she pointed the gun back at Ray, feeling a little pride in the fact that she’d hit her target on her very first try. “Ain’t too bad, huh?” she asked, sarcastically.

  Ray shook nervously, thinking to himself that Nikki was one crazy chick.

  “Get your fuckin’ phone out right now and call that nigga, Breon,” Nikki said. “Call his ass right now.”

  “My phone back in the bedroom,” Ray said, pointing toward the hallway. “I was layin’ down and shit when you came to the door.”

  “Okay,” Nikki said. “Come on.”

  At gunpoint, Ray led Nikki back to his bedroom. Nikki had really expected to see a chick back there, but his bed was empty. She watched as he grabbed his iPhone off of the nightstand. They came back into the living room. Nikki, calming down a little bit, lowered the gun to her side and watched as Ray pulled up his text messages to tap on Breon’s name.

  Just as Ray was about to do just that, his phone lit up and vibrated. He looked up at Nikki as she leaned over to see who was calling. “Well, I’ll be damned,” she said, looking over at Gracelyn. “Gracelyn, this nigga Breon is callin’ right now.” She turned back to Ray. “Answer and see what he got to say.”

  Ray held the phone up to the side of his face, trying to sound as calm as possible. Something told him that if he made the wrong move, this chick just might be crazy enough to put a bullet into his leg or something. “Yeah, wassup?” he answered.

  “Speakerphone,” Nikki demanded, in a whisper, pushing Ray’s shoulder with the barrel of the gun.

  Ray did just that.

  “Man, where the fuck you at?” Breon asked.

  “Shit, just chillin’,” Ray said. “At home at the second. Wassup, nigga? Where the fuck you at?”

  “Man, you not gon’ believe this shit,” Breon said. The sound of a door closing in the background came through. “That nigga Dante got that nigga Charles.”

  “What?” Ray asked, looking at Gracelyn then Nikki. He wanted to sound as convincing as possible “For real?”

  “Yeah,” Breon said. He then groaned. “And he kidnapped Trina.”

  “Damn, he kidnapped your girl?” Ray asked. “Man, what the fuck happened? When? How?”

  Nikki stood there as Breon explained, in detail, how he’d gone home and told Trina all of the story except for the part about Nikki. So much strength was needed for Nikki to be able to stand there and hear Breon say, once again, that he wasn’t going to risk anything for Nikki. However, the sentiment for Trina was obviously different. There was no doubt about that in Nikki’s eyes.

  Breon went on to explain how they’d found blood in Charles’ store and how they’d heard from Wayne’s neighbor about Nikki looking “crazy,” banging on his door. Nikki, with a scorned look in her eyes, looked up and over at Gracelyn. Gracelyn immediately, as a young black woman in Chicago, felt the hurt that Nikki must have felt in her heart.

  “So, what you try’na do then, nigga?” Ray asked. “I mean, the nigga called you and now he holdin’ Trina hostage and shit?”

  “Right,” Breon said. “And Nikki out here runnin’ around somewhere, but I can worry about her later. I gotta do whatever it takes to get Trina back. Tonight, I’m supposed to be meetin’ that nigga at midnight at this gas station on Sacramento and Lake.”

  Nikki looked at Gracelyn once more, as she remembered telling Gracelyn that all she’d been able to see about where she was being taken was the fact that it was near Sacramento. Nikki’s nostrils flared as she thought more and more about what she was hearing, and how she’d only been caught up in this because of Breon but she wasn’t worth any all-out war in the streets in the middle of the night.

  “I’m over at Wayne’s house right now,” Breon said. “I’mma come through in like thirty minutes and swoop you up so we can get together and shit and know what we gon’ do to get this Dante nigga. No matter what we do, we gotta make sure it’s smooth ‘cause you know that if that Dante nigga killed Charles, and whoever fuckin’ blood that is smeared all the way up from the basement, then he’ll put a bullet in Trina’s head or some crazy shit. And I can’t let that happen.”

  Nikki zoned out for a quick moment to think about Breon’s smeared blood comment. It didn’t take her long to realize that the guy she’d stabbed with the letter opener – the man she remembered leaving on the basement floor – must have gotten out. There would be no other explanation for smeared blood, especially since the guy behind the counter, who she now knew was named Charles, had been left for dead just where he’d been shot. As if it were even possible, things became even more serious. She listened closely as Ray finished up his phone call with Breon.

  “Okay, so you gon’ be pickin’ me up at ten, right?”
Ray asked.

  “Yeah, man,” Breon said. “We gotta get this shit fixed tonight. If that nigga do anything to Trina, I swear to God it’s gon’ be worse than a fuckin’ war in Iraq. Everybody in Chicago is gon’ know, so fuck that.”

  The two friends ended the phone call with Ray promising to be ready. He looked at Nikki. “There,” he said. “You heard him. He gon’ go get that Dante nigga, tonight.”

  “Nigga, I speak English,” Nikki said. “I heard what the fuck he said.”

  Nikki took a moment to think about what she wanted to do. Sure, she could simply wait until Breon got to Ray’s place and show him what she was made of here. However, as she’d always learned in life, it is better to kill two birds with one stone. With this in mind, she figured it’d be to her advantage to also be at the meeting at the gas station over on the west side. Not only would the look on Breon’s face be priceless, but she’d also have a chance to get at Dante. The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea of at least using one of the bullets in the chamber of the gun she held. Breon would be perfect to beat down and publicly humiliate. Dante, on the other hand, deserved to be dead. “And to think,” Nikki said, to herself as she didn’t realize she was talking, “all that ‘cause he thought I was the real chick then wanna call me the side chick.”

  Ray silently hoped this chick didn’t go off of the deep end as she was in her feelings and do something that would change his life forever. No sooner than he thought about this, Nikki opened her mouth and said, “Okay, here’s what we gon’ do.” She paused and looked at Gracelyn, seeing that her girl was really down for her. “Me and my girl here gon’ be at this little meeting tonight too, okay?”

  “Okay,” Ray said, nervously nodding his head. “That’s coo.”

  “Shut the fuck up, nigga,” Nikki said. “I ain’t ask you if it was coo. Anyway, like I was sayin’, we gon’ be at this little meetin’ tonight too just like y’all niggas. Say a fuckin’ word to Breon about this meeting and I’ll kill you first, okay.”

  Ray nodded, not wanting to open his mouth and speak.

  “Nigga, I know you fuckin’ hear me talkin’ to you,” Nikki said. “Fuckin’ answer me when I’m talkin’ to you.”

  “Okay, okay,” Ray said, frantically. “Don’t say a word to Breon or else you gon’ kill me. I won’t say a word to that nigga.” Ray hated that he had tried to make it sound like Breon had some sort of intent to go find Nikki. Breon’s own words over the phone had just proven this to not be the case.

  Nikki smiled. “Good we on the same page, Ray,” she said. “Just wait until tonight. Y’all think y’all got a problem with that nigga, Dante.” She shook her head. “Y’all ain’t seen shit yet.”

  Nikki led Gracelyn out of Ray’s apartment. Ray, watching the two women walk, couldn’t help but to look at Gracelyn and despise what he saw. He instantly regretted even giving the BBW before his eyes a chance. Just as Gracelyn pulled the door closed, she turned and looked into Ray’s eyes. All Ray could do was watch them leave. The two women rushed down and climbed back into Gracelyn’s car. From there, they went back to their apartment and waited, in the dark. Nikki watched the time, anticipating how oh so good it would feel to get revenge on Breon and Dante. She snickered at the fact that it took Breon’s girl Trina getting kidnapped for all of this to come together – the chick they should have really kidnapped instead of her. “Guess God do make everything happen for a reason,” she said to herself.

  CHAPTER 11

  Breon drove his SUV over to the intersection of Sacramento and Lake, just as he’d been told by Dante. As if things could not get any worse, the snow continued to fall well into his journey across the west side. The streets, which had been busy for the evening, were dying down as midnight approached. Neighborhood streets became more desolate and eerie with the wind blowing snow up into the air, forming a tunnel-like appearance on the side streets. Breon clinched his steering wheel tightly numerous times. All he could think about was how he wanted to get to this place, wherever he was going, and save Trina. He would often look down at his cell phone, expecting it to light up with Trina’s name. While, of course, he didn’t want to hear Trina cry and be a victim to a dude like Dante, at least hearing her voice let him know that she was alive.

  Wayne and Ray rolled in Wayne’s car. During much of the journey they trailed three blocks or so behind Breon. However, because they knew exactly where he was going to meet Dante, and they’d had their cell phones with them, they allowed themselves to purposely catch various red lights between downtown and Sacramento. They each were on full alert for the entire ride, without even the radio playing. Dante had proven that he could move in these streets without being seen. This meant that he could be following them as they followed Breon. Each and every car, truck, and SUV that passed them got at least a second look. There was just no way that they were going to let Dante sneak up on them. All three of them, before leaving Wayne’s house, talked about how this could very well be a trap that winds them up dead.

  Breon pulled into the gas station on the corner. It was a small gas station, with a brick apartment building to the rear. The station was still open, but without customers. The night was looking to be the kind of night that would be too cold for people to really go out and go anywhere they really didn’t need to go. However, inside, as Breon pulled up to pump two, there was a Middle Eastern man, or perhaps North African, working behind the counter. When Breon put his SUV into PARK, he looked around. Any and everything that moved, be it a vehicle, a person, or a stray cat or dog, was fully looked at before Breon turned away. At 11:58, he felt like the next couple of minutes would be the longest minutes of his life as he waited for a phone call. The anxiety was riveting to say the least. Breon hoped to God that this wasn’t the kind of setup that he’d be a sitting duck – an unsuspecting target that Dante could easily roll up next to and open fire. The very thought of bullets flying at a gas station was enough to make him at least feel extremely uncomfortable.

  Wayne and Ray noticed Breon sitting at pump 2 in the gas station parking lot. They rolled by then around the block, allowing them to come up on the other side of the gas station, just to the north of the adjacent apartment building. Wayne pulled his car into a parking spot out front and quickly turned his headlights off. He looked at Ray, who looked as if he were in disbelieve. “This some fucked up shit, ain’t it?” he asked. “Ain’t it?”

  Ray nodded. “Yup,” he responded. “Sure is. That’s why we gotta watch for this nigga Dante in case he try anything funny.”

  “Hmm, hmm,” Wayne said. “But I don’t wanna kill the nigga. I wanna have a couple minutes with the nigga. I’mma make sure I get that phone and the video and shit, but I’mma also show that nigga what he did to me wasn’t funny. He gon’ wish somebody had taken the easy way and just killed his ass when I get done with him.”

  The two of them sat there, in Wayne’s car, in the dark. Every so often, Wayne would turn on the windshield wipers just to knock some of the building snow off of the glass. They kept direct eye contact with Breon’s SUV up at the gas station. Any car that pulled into the lot, or came rolling up the street from deeper in the neighborhood, could be Dante. With that in mind, Ray and Wayne both were armed with some heat. And they’d made sure to load plenty of bullets into both before leaving Wayne’s house. Ray sat on his side, thinking and wondering why he had to wind up being the one in the situation with a secret. He hated that he had looked his boy Breon in the eye and not mentioned that Nikki and Gracelyn had come over – not mentioned that the side chick was going to be making an appearance as well when Trina would be returned to Breon.

  ***

  Nikki had given some thought as to whether or not she wanted to pull up at the gas station in her car or go back and use Gracelyn’s. After the two talked it out a bit, Nikki decided she simply didn’t care. She wasn’t going to hide herself, because her objective was to make sure that the entire world saw her and whatever was about to go down. Laughter wou
ld slip out of her lips just at the thought of how she’d been labeled the side chick after only messing around with Breon a couple of times.

  Gracelyn looked over at Nikki. “Girl, you not gon’ do nothin’ that’s gon’ wind us up on the news, are you?” she asked Nikki.

  Nikki, who had been focusing on the snowy street ahead of them, hoping to make it to the gas station before midnight, glanced at Gracelyn for a brief moment. “Girl, I know you not over there about to go there with me right now, are you?” she asked in return. “I mean, damn, girl, we already on our way to the gas station and stuff and now you wanna worry about somethin’ like that. Don’t be doin’ the most, Gracelyn.” Nikki smiled. “I just wanna talk to the nigga is all, girl. Trust me, ain’t nothin’ gon happen,” she paused, “to you.”

  Just as Nikki was pulling up to the intersection before the gas station, the light had turned red. She waited, her eyes glued on Breon’s SUV, parked at pump two. Getting Gracelyn’s attention, she pointed and said, “There go that nigga Breon right there. That’s his SUV and shit.”

  “And girl, look,” Gracelyn said, pointing just to the side of the gas station. “Ain’t you say that the niggas that kidnapped you and stuff was drivin’ around a green van. There go one right there that look like it drove into the parking lot and turned around.”

  “And now that nigga Breon is followin’ it,” Nikki said. She looked up at the red stoplight. “Fuck, come on.”

  More cars rolled through the stoplight, seeming to take forever to cross the intersection to Nikki. Once the light turned green, she had to catch herself to keep from speeding off. This could possibly cause her tires to spin, or worse, her car to veer into another lane of traffic. Carefully, she pulled up and across the stoplight. She watched as Breon pulled out of the parking lot and followed the green van down a side street. Cautiously, she turned down the side street as well. She kept her distance, as to not draw attention to herself. She wanted to look like she was simply heading to a house in the hood and nothing else.