Queen Bitch: Part 4 (Bitch Series)

by Deja King

  After confirming my appointment at the beauty salon, I sashayed my ass downstairs ready to head out formy transformation. I damn near had an "Anna" moment and fell down the fucking stairs, when to my shock Detective Moore was standing in the foyer with Supreme.

  That fool is supposed to be dead with a bullet to the back of his head. What the fuck happened? Devon, you have some explaining to do!

  "Good morning ... well I should say afternoon, Maya," Detective Moore said with a pleasant smile.

  "Hi," I replied dryly. "Back so soon? I see you couldn't stay away."

  "I did come back yesterday to speak to Mr. Mills. I understand you, him and the baby were out all day."

  I slightly nodded my head, giving no verbal feedback.

  "But today's visit is courtesy of Mr. Mills. You see he gave me a call today and I rushed right over."

  "I'm sure you did. Supreme, is everything okay?" I asked, trying to disguise my annoyance with the detective.

  "No, nothing is okay anymore."

  "What's wrong?"

  "I got a letter from Precious," he revealed with pure depression in his voice.

  Yes! I cheered inside. "A letter? What did it say...is Precious alright7" I sounded so damn concerned for a second I forgot that I was the one that had the bitch on lockdown.

  Supreme didn't respond, as if in a state of shock, so Detective Moore decided to be his spokesperson.

  "Apparently, Mrs. Mills feels she needs some space and isn't sure if she's coming back to her family."

  "What! That doesn't sound like Precious."

  "You know, Maya, I have to agree with you," Detective Moore said in an eerie way. "I met with Mrs. Mills numerous times during the kidnapping ordeal of their daughter and she didn't strike me as the type of woman who would walk away from her family. If for some reason she did want to leave she would tell you to your face not in a letter."

  I felt my cheeks burning up and hoped they hadn't turned the color red. "What do you think, Supreme? Do you believe it... did Precious really write the letter?"

  "It's definitely her handwriting," he acknowledged.

  "But I'm going to have it submitted to our crime lab and have the validity authenticated," Detective Moore added. I expected that would happen anyway, that's why I was so fucking careful with the handling of the letter.

  "I think that's a good idea. Maybe Precious didn't write it, Supreme."

  "Or maybe somebody forced her to," Detective Moore said out the blue, damn near knocking the wind out of me.

  "Forced her! What do you mean by that?"

  "Maya, you seem like an intelligent young lady. I think you know what the word `force' means."

  "Of course I know what it means. I'm simply asking who would force Precious to write that letter and why would you think somebody did."

  "Because I'm a detective and that's what we do, think of every scenario when investigating a case... especially one that is as complex as this."

  If I'd been packing, more than likely I would've pulled out my heat right then and started blasting on that loose lip fool.

  "Mr. Mills, I'm personally delivering this letter to the crime lab today and I'll get back to you when I find out anything."

  "Thank you, I'll be waiting to hear from you."

  Supreme walked Detective Moore to the door and I waited in the living room. The detective had me so worked up I had to sit down and relax. I was supposed to be acting as Supreme's rock and couldn't let him see the chips falling off my exterior. I stood up when Supreme came in the living room ready to lend my support.

  "Supreme, I'm sure after the crime lab runs tests it'll reveal that Precious didn't write the letter," I said, knowing it would reveal the opposite.

  "It damn sure looked like her handwriting to me. I tore this house up looking for every piece of paper Precious wrote-anything on to compare to the letter, and I know in my heart it was her handwriting."

  "But what about the detective's theory that somebody forced Precious to write it?" I had to know if Supreme believed that because if he did, he would never let go and I wouldn't have a chance in the world to win his love."

  "I want to believe she was forced because the thought of her turning her back on me and Aaliyah...I don't know if I could deal with that. Precious is the love of my life. What could I have done to make her stop loving me and to leave our daughter? And the only person I keep going back to is Nico."

  "You think Precious could've left you for Nico?"

  "I don't know, but he was the last person she spoke to on the phone and they do share some sort of sick connection."

  "I know what you mean," I said as if reluctant.

  "Why do you say than Did Precious say something to you?"

  "One day when we were having girl talk and discussing the men in our lives. I was saying how Clip had been my first love and I couldn't believe I fell so hard for such an evil man. She then said her first love had his own streak of evil in him. Of course that threw me off because there isn't anything remotely evil about you, Supreme."

  "So what did Precious say?"

  "Her comment threw me off, so I said, `Precious, what are you talking about? Supreme is the sweetest man I've ever met. Why would you say he had a streak of evil in him?' That's when she told me she wasn't speaking about you, but of Nico."

  Supreme put his head down as if he wanted to cry like a baby.

  "I'm sorry, Supreme. I didn't want to hurt you. You asked me a question and you seem so torn. I only wanted to help."

  "I know, Maya but I wasn't expecting to hear that. But honestly, I'm not totally surprised. If you'll excuse me, I need some time alone."

  "I understand. Where's Aaliyah?"

  "She's upstairs taking a nap."

  "I was going to run some errands but I can stay here so when Aaliyah wakes up I can take care of her."

  "That's sweet of you, Maya, but my parents are flying in today. They should be getting on my private jet any minute now."

  "Oh how nice. How long are they going to be visiting?"

  "Just for the day. They're taking Aaliyah back to Jersey with them. I'm going to have her stay at their house for a couple of weeks so I can handle things on my end."

  "Just know that I have your back and I'll be more than willing to help you take care of Aaliyah for however long you need."

  "Thank you. I might have to take you up on that when Aaliyah returns in a couple of weeks. But they miss their granddaughter and right now I have to get down to the bottom of this bullshit with Precious. With Aaliyah here I wouldn't be able to focus on this the way that I need to."

  "I understand. Does that mean you want me to leave too?"

  "Maya, no," Supreme said, reaching out taking my hand. "I don't know what I would've done without you. You've been a source of sanity for me these last few weeks. You can stay as long as you like. I actually welcome the company. I mean look around. This place is pretty fuckin' huge."

  "Thank you, Supreme. I thought with Precious gone you might be ready for me to leave since we are best friends-or at least I thought we were. Part of me wants to believe that something bad has happened to Precious so I can understand her leaving and not telling me where she went. I too would feel betrayed if she ran off with Nico without at least telling me bye and explaining why she did it."

  "I've been so caught up in how this bullshit got me fucked up that I haven't even considered your feelings. I apologize, Maya. I know Precious is like a sister to you so I know you're hurting too. You've been so strong through all this shit that I took it for granted."

  "Don't apologize. We have to continue to be strong for one another and hopefully Precious will be coming back home soon." Supreme hadn't yet let go of my hand so I took it one step further and gave him a slight hug, and to my delight he reciprocated with a firm squeeze.

  Damn this nigga feel good... and smell good too! I know Precious going through withdrawals missing the dick downs this fine chocolate motherfucker was stroking her with.


  "Since you don't need me, I'ma head out and run my errands."

  "Okay, I'll see you later on."

  "Yeah, and make sure you give Aaliyah a goodbye kiss for me. Tell her Auntie Maya is going to miss her."

  "I will. I know under the circumstances it will be difficult, but try and enjoy yourself today, you deserve it."

  "You keep telling me that, Supreme as if you don't deserve to enjoy yourself too."

  "One thing at a time," Supreme smiled before heading to his office.

  When I got in my car the first thing I did was dial Devon's number. I started the ignition, anxious for dude to pick up.

  "Yo!" he said, like he had been waiting for my call. "Meet me at our spot ...now!" I said and hung up. I kept the call short and to the point, because although I doubted it, you never knew who was listening in.

  I slipped in my Year of the Gentleman CD needing to listen to some smooth R&B with all the drama unfolding, which seemed crazy since I was the one behind most of it. As I drove towards the restaurant on Robertson Boulevard, all the reasons that had brought me to this place in my life right now streamlined through my head. It all started and ended with Precious. I had these love/hate feelings towards her. She was everything I wanted to be and had everything I wanted which made me hate her, but those very same things made me love her too. The reasoning behind this shit was so twisted that it was difficult for me to grasp sometimes. But one thing was for certain; I intended on keeping my eyes on the prize... Supreme.

  When I pulled up in the parking lot I noticed Devon's car was already there. "Shit, he must've been already circling the area when I called," I said, rushing to get out of the car because I was determined to make my hair appointment.

  "I can explain," Devon stood up and said as soon as he saw me coming up to the table.

  I sat down, motioning him to do the same. I didn't want to draw any attention to us and his big black ass standing up as if he got busted fucking around, and trying to apologize wasn't helping.

  "What, was you around the corner when I called?"

  "Not exactly around the corner but close to it. I had a feeling I'd be hearing from you. But listen," Devon lowered his voice before continuing. "The reason I couldn't hit old boy off was because he came home with some honey. I guess even cops have late night booty calls. I didn't want to take no chances and have to kill both of them. Tonight though, I'm on it. He's going down, and if he got somebody with him, they going down too."

  "Delete that."

  "What? You don't want me to kill whoever with him too? I mean we can't leave no witnesses."

  "No, I mean delete killing Moore. . .at least for the moment."

  "WhY?"

  "Supreme got that letter from Precious I had her write. He took it upon himself to call in the detective. Let's just say the detective is suspicious about this so-called letter and is having it checked out at the crime lab. Of course Precious did write it and I want the detective to get the information and bring it back to Supreme. If we kill him before that it would do us more harm than good."

  "But you know he's a problem. How long do you really want to keep him around?"

  "Until I set a few more things in motion. You never know. The detective might become useful."

  "If you say so, but I don't see how."

  "You sure are singing a whole other tune. At first you didn't want any parts of taking the cat out, now you mad that I want you to cease fire."

  "You made a strong argument as to why he had to go and I felt you on that. But if you want to keep him around a little longer, I'm game."

  "Wonderful. But of course I'll let you know when to make your move."

  "I got you. But I guess that means I won't be getting my gratitude treat anytime soon?"

  "You never know, so keep your finger on the trigger. Now, I have an appointment to get to. I'll be in touch." I grabbed my purse and I was off to my next stop.

  I had fifteen minutes to get to the salon, but luckily it was on North Canon Drive, which wasn't too far from where I was. The traffic was light so I breezed to the spot, and what a spot it was. This was the type of high-end establishment that you were on time for, because unless you were one of their many celebrity clients, coming late meant your name was crossed off the appointment book. The valet was waiting with a smile on his face when I stepped out of my jag. The much younger knockoff looking Brad Pitt attendee even offered to give my car a detailed washing while I was getting my hair did, and of course I agreed.

  I strolled into the sexy bungalow-style salon feeling like a star myself. I thought the place would have a typical, overrated Hollywood that thinks they are somebody aura, but it was the opposite. The staff of bleach blondes, red heads and brunettes were too friendly and almost overly accommodating, offering me everything from champagne to a personal stylist to pick out a new wardrobe to go with my new hairstyle. The life of the rich and privileged had my name written all over it.

  "Miss, you can come this way," the stylist who I assumed was doing my hair said. When I sat down I fell in love with the garden terrace that was complete with fountains and rose bushes. I had a clear view because of the floorto-ceiling windows.

  "This is the life for me," I mumbled out loud.

  "I'm sorry, Miss, what did you say?"

  "Oh nothing, just thinking out loud."

  "So what are you having done today?"

  "I want some coloring, highlights and hair extensions.,,

  "Great! Did you have a color and style in mind?"

  "Yes, I even brought a picture to make your job a little easier."

  "Perfect! Let me have a look," she said as I dug in my purse. I then handed her the photo and she eyed the picture and then stared at me.

  "Wow, you resemble the woman in this picture an awful lot."

  "Everybody says that. But it should be expected. We used to be sisters."

  "Used to be?"

  'Yes, her name was Precious, but she died not too long ago."

  "I'm sorry for your loss."

  "Thank you. I've always admired her style, but now that she's gone I think she would appreciate me carrying it on."

  "That's a nice way of looking at it. They say imitation is the greatest form of flattery. So let me work my magic. First, I'll start with a scalp treatment. It's a massage of special oils and steamer."

  "Sounds divine."

  "It is, so sit back and relax."

  It was effortless to do precisely that. I closed my eyes and let my mind travel to where I wanted to be...my life as a queen bitch. I visualized diamonds in all colors, shapes and sizes, a walk-in closet full of designer clothes, shoes and bags that even Kimora Lee Simmons would have to respect, and pushing whips that I can't even pronounce let alone spell. Each day I was getting closer to living my dream and going from nothin' to somethin'.

  Walk In My Shoes

  I woke up for the first time in I didn't know how many weeks without being handcuffed to a fucking bed. This new chapter in my life had now taken another bizarre turn. After Mike had fed me that delicious breakfast he kept his word and came back for lunch and dinner. Then he took another chance at letting me bathe, and this time I pulled no shenanigans. He was so impressed with all my cooperating he filled my drawers with undergarments, a few loungewear outfits and beauty products. I was almost starting to feel a sense of normalcy, if that was possible under the circumstances.

  If Mike was trying to prove that what he said he was willing to do for me was true, then he was doing a damn good job. If he really wanted me to leave the country with him and I could bring Aaliyah, then I would do it. Once I got to wherever the fuck he took us, I would scheme up a plan to break the fuck out and go back to Supreme the first chance I got. But right now the most important thing was finding a way to stay alive. Playing up to Mike seemed to be the best and damn near only way to make it happen. As the idea of being reunited with Aaliyah played in my head I heard a knock at the door.

  "Precious, are you up?" I heard Mike ask. Wha
t the hell, this nigga knocking now, tryna respect my privacy? Shit really has changed.

  "Yeah, I'm up. Come on in, Mike." He came in carrying a tray with food and one long stem rose in a slender glass vase.

  "You're feeding me another fabulous meal. You're not poisoning me on the low are you?"

  "I suppose I deserve that question," Mike laughed. "But no poison. I want you alive not dead."

  "Wow, pretty soon you'll let me out this bedroom and I'll be able to walk around," I joked.

  "Funny you should say that. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come in the living room and watch TV or a movie."

  "Mike, now you're officially buggin' me out. You have done a complete 180 in less than forty-eight hours. I get you're tryna show me a different side, but this is what one would define as drastic. Marinate on that while I eat my breakfast."

  Mike sat down on the bed and got comfortable as I poured syrup on my buttermilk pancakes. I was tripping how all of sudden I went from being on the verge of starvation to being plentiful with food.

  "These are bangin' and I ain't even big on pan-cakes,"

  I said, savoring each bite.

  "Precious, I'm sorry."

  ,,You don't have to apologize. Like I said, they bangin'."

  "I'm not talking about the pancakes."

  "Then what are you apologizing for?"

  "I'm sorry for raping you."

  I stopped with my fork in midair. "Are you sure you want to take the conversation there, because I don't think I do."