Page 3 of The Heart Of A Real Woman
“You make sure no one followed you here? Paparazzi been on yo’ ass lately.”
“You know I checked. I’m good. What’s the deal?”
“Mary reached out to me about two hours ago.” He finally informed me, and my blood instantly boiled.
“What the fuck my wife doing reaching out to you in the middle of the fucking night?”
Pokey had been my nigga since we were freshmen in high school, but hearing my wife was contacting him at wild hours had me ready to turn his ass from friend to foe.
Pokey shook his head. “I hear you were doing more than business with Kelis, and that’s yo’ business, bro. But Mary found out. How, I’m not sure. That’s on you to figure out. But she knows, and she crashed the fuck out and went to that bitch’s crib.”
“She did what?” A nigga damn near caught whiplash from the news.
He nodded, confirming my worst nightmare.
“She called me from your burner to come to Kelis’s crib to clean up the mess, and I did.”
“Fuck,” I spat, pacing back and forth as I checked my pockets and realized my burner was missing.
Now I was even more worried. I was concerned about her catching her first body. I knew what she did for a living, but there’s a big difference between seeing a dead body and being the cause of one. That wasn’t Mary. She was a good woman… heart pure gold. I couldn’t shake the worry about how something like that would fuck with her mental health.
Then there was the nagging fear. Did she let anger cloud her judgment and not handle that shit properly? If she lost her freedom because of my actions, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
Pulling out my phone, I tried her again. Pokey gave me a minute to process everything, aware that the situation was fucked up. After the third time getting her voicemail, I swung at the wall, putting a hole clean through that bitch.
“I know her missing is fucking with you. I been there, done that wit’ Trina, so I feel you. But I’m sure sis is straight. You got bigger shit to be worried about right now.”
“Ain’t nothin’ more important than my wife, Pokey.” I corrected, cutting my eyes at him. “I fucked up, but it’s not as bad as it seems.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “I hear you. But you still need to prepare for questioning ‘cause ole girl people eventually gonna report her missing. Not only is she under your label, but it ain’t no tellin’ where she was last seen. It could be leaving your studio. Not to mention, we have that shipment coming in.”
“Fuck the shipment. Did you make sho you handled the shit with Kelis? If something comes back on my wif—”
“When the fuck have I ever not handled some shit, bro? And this lil sis we talkin’ about. You know I got her and you ‘til my last breath.” He took a pull of the blunt and shrugged.
“Besides, Mary wasn’t even fazed. If anything, she coached and reminded me what the fuck to do. She practically ya lil mini me, nigga.”
He shot me a knowing look, but still, I worried about her…about us… about my marriage.
Chapter Two.
Moses
The skies were dark and gloomy, matching a nigga’s mood perfectly. I was going through it. I couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. I was worried and upset with myself for pulling the stupid shit I did. Twenty-four hours of unanswered calls and texts had me sick to my fucking stomach. I couldn’t bear it any longer. I needed my wife back home.
After tracking Mary down using the GPS on her G-Wagon, I pulled up to where she was staying. We both knew I wasn’t welcome here, and I’m sure she thought that would keep me away. But her being at her parents’ crib didn’t stop me back then, and it damn sure wasn’t about to stop me now. With my heart heavy, I hopped out of my truck.
When I made it to the door, I knocked and waited as I adjusted my suit coat. A moment later, Mary’s mother appeared, looking just as beautiful as her daughter but with a head full of black and gray hair.
“How you doing, Ms. Margaret?”
“Moses,” she said firmly, giving me a small nod. “I’m decent, and you?”
“Not so good. Do you mind telling Mary I’m here? I really need to speak with her.”
“Actually, I do mind. She’s asleep, and I’m positive she doesn’t want to see you right now. Give her some time.” She gave me a look that screamed she was disappointed in my actions.
Realizing she had shared our business with her mother made me worry even more. That wasn’t how Mary and I operated. Whatever battles we had, we typically handled them between us. What did this mean? Was she truly done with a nigga?
