The Dopeman's Wife: Part I of the Dopeman Trilogy (8 page)

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Authors: JaQuavis Coleman

Tags: #Fiction, #African American, #General, #Urban

BOOK: The Dopeman's Wife: Part I of the Dopeman Trilogy
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Khia quickly snatched off her shoes and ran full speed, catching up with her girl. Both of the girls finally reached Nautica’s car and hopped in. Breathing heavily, they both rested their heads on the headrest to catch their breath.
Nautica looked in the rearview to make sure the shooter was nowhere in sight. “We did it!” She double checked her rearview mirrors before opening the bookbag on her lap and pulled out stacks of rubber banded hundred-dollar bills. She was a little shaky from the unexpected shooting, but the money made everything seem a little better.
Almost instantly, both of the girls began to yell in excitement as they looked at their new boyfriend, Benjamin Franklin. About eighty thousand of them.
“Oh my God! I can’t believe what just happened.” Nautica took a deep breath and stared down at the money. “So this is what eighty stacks look like.” A big smile on her face, she picked up one of the G-stacks and kissed it.
“We set, mama. I can’t believe—”
Before Khia could complete her sentence, the sound of gunshot blasts and shattering glass rang out. Glass from the back window flew on the girls as the shooter stood twenty feet from them and emptied his clip, bullets flying one after another.
“Go! Go!” Khia yelled as she looked in the rearview and saw the crazed man shooting at them. She couldn’t see exactly who he was, but she wasn’t trying to stick around and play Columbo either.
I thought the nigga was dead
. Nautica scrambled to start the car and threw the shift in drive. As the terrifying sound of bullets thumping the car’s exterior serenaded the girls, she sped off, ducking down slightly and peeking over the steering wheel, trying to merge into traffic. The way the bullets were coming, she knew it was an automatic weapon.
Nautica peeked into her rearview mirror again and saw Zion firing his gun. When she finally got far enough distance away for the bullets to stop hitting the car, she sat up and took a deep breath. Her heart beat rapidly, and she could barely drive straight because of her shaky hands.
After Nautica caught her breath, she tried to laugh it off. “Fuck him!” she yelled. “We did it!”
When Khia didn’t respond, she looked over at her and saw her staring aimlessly, her head propped against the window. “Khia! Khia!” Nautica yelled. She reached over and shook Khia, and her body fell over, and her head flopped down on the dashboard, revealing a bloody hole in the back.
“No! Nooo!” Nautica yelled. “Don’t die on me. We don’t die! Khia!”
Nautica kept shaking Khia, but it was no use. The bullet had killed her on contact.
Nautica watched through the thick glass as the surgeons tried to revive Khia. She saw the doctor shake his head and signal for the staff to give up. He looked at the clock to get the time of death, and that’s when Nautica’s knees gave out. She fell to the ground and broke down crying like a newborn baby, her face buried in her hands. Khia was her first cousin, but they’d been like sisters. With neither of them having siblings, they naturally bonded with each other. She regretted taking the money, because it cost twenty-three year-old Khia her life.
After spending two hours at the hospital, Nautica decided to leave before the police came. She knew that carrying around eighty thousand dollars would make them suspicious. She clenched the bookbag. “Khia, I love you. I love you,” she whispered in between cries.
Nautica pulled her shot-up Altima onto her aunt’s block. She went to break the news to her—that her only child had been murdered. As she got close to the house, she noticed a black Charger parked three houses down from her aunt’s home
.
She panicked when she saw the twenty-two-inch rims.
Oh shit! That looks like Loon’s car.
She squinted to get a better look and saw Loon camped out in his car. She quickly sat Khia’s gun on her lap and kept her eyes on Loon’s car.
Nautica quickly turned into a driveway and got off the block before he noticed her. When she turned off the block, Loon’s car hadn’t moved.
Good. He didn’t see me
, she thought as she got on the highway, tears of grief gracing her cheeks. She didn’t know where she was headed, but she had to get out of Flint fast.
ME, MYSELF, AND A BAG OF MONEY
Chapter Eight
Nautica couldn’t stop the tears from flowing as she pushed her car eighty miles per hour on the I-75. She hit the steering wheel. “Fuck!” she yelled, as images of Khia’s dead body next to her emerged. She could still smell the blood, and it was driving her crazy. The wind coming through the broken glass in the back had her freezing as she drove to a destination unknown. Nautica didn’t get a chance to see the shooter, but she assumed it was Zion. Her legs began to tremble.
How did he survive that? He’s going to hunt me down.
She drove and drove, not even paying attention to the road. It was as if she was letting the car drive itself. The only thing she had left was a bag full of money. Dirty money.
After hours of driving east, Nautica began to feel fatigue. She let out a big yawn. She decided that she’d still go to New York, just as she and Khia had planned. “I will figure out what to do when I get there,” she said to herself.
Nautica thought about not being able to attend Khia’s funeral, and about her mentioning being pregnant with Quaye’s baby. She had tried to call her aunt, but always hung up when her aunt answered. How was she supposed to tell her that her only daughter had died? That she ran out of town like a coward?
Nautica entered the city limits of Chicago and got off on Halsted Avenue. Tired and confused, she decided to get a room for the night. When she saw the string of run-down motels, she decided against checking into a hotel right in the middle of the hood with a bag full of money. Nautica looked down at the dashboard. The dial was on
E
. “Damn!” She yawned and wiped her eye. It was too late to stop, and she didn’t want to get out the car at a random gas station with so much money on her.
She drove until she hit a main road with commercial suites. After fifteen minutes of searching, she found a Marriott Hotel. She glanced down at the clock and noticed it was 4:00
A.M.
She pulled into the hotel parking lot and grabbed the duffle bag and her suitcase from the trunk. The sight of Khia’s suitcase next to hers brought more pain to her. She quickly closed the trunk.
Nautica headed for the lobby. Once she entered the glass doors, she knew she’d made the right decision to check in there. The gigantic hotel was immaculate, with its shining marble floors, and a huge glass chandelier hung about eighty feet above the ground in the middle of the main floor. She tied up her jacket tighter to make sure she wasn’t revealing herself and walked to the front counter.
“Hello, ma’am, and welcome to the Marriott. How may I help you?” The front desk clerk looked Nautica up and down and turned up his nose at her attire. He was sure she was a hooker, especially checking in so late.
“I want to get a room,” Nautica said, her eyes bloodshot. The mixture of tiredness and crying her eyes out had her looking strung out.
“Well, we don’t have any rooms under three hundred dollars a night, ma’am,” he said snobbi-ly. “Maybe you want to try down the street. They have sixty-dollar rooms at the Econo Lodge.”
Nautica couldn’t believe the clerk’s audacity. She cleared her throat and cocked her hip to the side, her hand resting on it. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean? Just give me a damn room, okay,” she said, trying her best to be cordial.
“Well, I just thought—”
Nautica threw up her hand. “Well, that’s why you don’t get paid to think, mister smart ass. Now, just give me a room for three nights.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a rubber band full of cash, peeled off a thousand dollars, and placed it on the table.
The man’s eyes expanded when he saw the cash. He was totally embarrassed. “No problem, ma’am.” He scooped up the thousand dollars and punched some keys on his computer. “Your total is nine eighteen with tax. I need to see some identification so I can check you in.”
Nautica looked around the empty lobby and then back at Mr. Smart Ass. “No, you don’t need any identification.” She peeled off another five hundred dollars and slipped it to him.
The man’s eyes lit up. He glanced around to make sure his manager wasn’t around. “I sure as hell don’t!” He snatched the cash and stuffed it into his pocket. He reached back to get her room key. “Your room number is seven three one, miss. Enjoy your stay.”
With that Nautica headed to her room. The only thing that could numb her pain at that moment was sleep.
LIFE AIN’T SWEETIE
Chapter Nine
The strong odor of gasoline filled the air when Nautica woke up from her peaceful slumber. As she slowly began to gain her vision and wake up, she saw the vague image of a man hovering over her. Her heart began to beat faster and faster as the man’s face began to become clearer. It was Zion. He had found her in the hotel in a matter of twenty-four hours.
He found me, he found me!
Nautica couldn’t believe what was happening. She saw Zion’s midsection bandaged up, because he was only wearing a wifebeater. Nautica tried to scream, but her mouth was duct taped.
Oh my God! No!
She tried to get up and run, but couldn’t move.
Zion had managed to creep in and tie thick ropes around her and the whole bed. He had a demonic look in his eyes as he doused her with gasoline.
“Bitch, you thought you could just rob me and leave me? Huh?!” He poured the remainder of the gasoline all over the bed and on her body, even splashing some straight in her face.
Nautica squinted, trying to stop the burning sensation in her eyes. A mixture of tears and gas flowed down her face as she squirmed violently. She tried to yell, “Zion, no! Stop! Please, stop!” but all you heard was muffled sounds.
Zion took a few steps back. The look in his eyes as he stared at Nautica was worth a thousand words. Hateful ones. Without saying a word, he pulled a matchbox from his pocket and walked toward the door. He opened it the door and, just before walking out, threw the match, which instantly sent the room up in flames.
Nautica cried and squirmed, violently trying to free herself, but the ropes were too tight. She knew this was her end.
Nautica woke up in a cold sweat kicking and screaming. She stared around the room, and there was no fire and no one else in the room. She was having a nightmare. She looked under the pillow for the small gun she’d taken from Khia and held it tight. Paranoia had her mind playing tricks on her.
Nautica slowly stood up and took a deep breath of relief, tears streaming from her eyes. She walked over to the sink and splashed water in her face. “Get a grip on yourself, Nautica,” she whispered. She turned on the light and walked back over to the bed. She reached under the bed and grabbed the bag of money she’d stolen from Zion. “Fuck this money!” she yelled. She threw the bag against the wall, causing the money to fly everywhere, and for a brief moment, it rained hundred-dollar bills in the hotel room.
As she watched the money fall, she knew life wouldn’t be the same for her. She knew Zion wouldn’t stop until he found her. The original plan was for her and Khia to go to a new city and start over, but now she was on her own and lost.
 
 
Nautica sat in the diner next to the Marriott she was staying in. She was looking at a map, trying to find the quickest route to New York. As she finished up her steak and eggs, she heard a man yelling. She glanced out the front window and saw a tall, slim, dark-skinned man in a cheesy silk shirt yelling at a petite girl. He grabbed the girl by the throat and then gave her a swift slap across the face. The girl turned her head in pain and fell to the ground. The man then stood over her and began barking orders. He shook his head from side to side then jumped into a Cadillac DTS. The young girl stood up and wiped the blood from her mouth as she watched her pimp pull off.
Nautica couldn’t believe the close resemblance the light-skinned girl had with Khia. Her short black hair and big brown eyes were identical to Khia’s. Nautica’s heart fluttered as she remembered her recent loss. She looked at the girl’s hot pink mini-skirt and halter top that displayed her flat stomach. Obviously, she was a prostitute.
That’s a shame. That girl doesn’t look a day over sixteen.
Nautica looked at the bill the waitress left her. “Damn! Twenty-one dollars!” she said under her breath. She chuckled when she remembered she had eighty thousand in the Louis Vuitton bag next to her. She discreetly reached into it and peeled off two twenties from one of the stacks and threw it on the table.
Nautica exited the diner and headed next door to her room. She wondered where she would go to start a new life.
Maybe LA
. Just as she reached the hotel entrance, she saw the same young girl who’d just been abused sitting on the stoop and smoking a cigarette. Tears streamed down the young girl’s face as she crossed her legs and shook them vigorously.
Normally Nautica would’ve minded her own business, but something drew her to the girl. “What’s wrong, li’l mama?”
The young girl looked up and puffed her cigarette like a stressed-out veteran. She turned up her nose. “What the fuck does it matter to you?” She wiped her tears away.
“Damn! Was just asking.” Nautica rolled her eyes and kept moving.
Just before she stepped in the door, the girl stopped her. “Hey! Hold on, I’m sorry. I just got so much going on. Hi, my name is Sweetie.” She put out the cigarette and extended her hand.
Nautica wanted to dismiss the girl, but her resemblance to Khia softened her heart. She took a deep breath and shook the girl’s hand. “Nautica.” She smiled reluctantly.
“I know you saw what happened back there, huh,” Sweetie said, a little embarrassed. “I saw you sitting in the front of the restaurant.”
“Yeah, I saw that bullshit.” Nautica put her head down, trying not to make a big deal of it. She didn’t want to humiliate the girl anymore than she already was.
“Yeah, he doesn’t mean any harm, though. He’s actually a good guy. He just wants me to stay focused when I’m working, you feel me? He said I didn’t make enough money today.”
“Why do you let him do that?”
“I really don’t know. I guess when you don’t have anyone else, you tend to be loyal to the people that you do have, feel me?”
Sweetie’s habit of saying “feel me” after every sentence was making Nautica nauseous. She talked very fast and Nautica could hear traces of Spanish in her speech. “No, I’m not talking about being a prostitute, because I don’t hate on nobody’s money. I used to be stripper, so I’m not looking down on you. I’m talking about letting him take your money when you do all the work. You don’t need a nigga to manage your money. Shit, you can do that!” Nautica snapped her head back.
Sweetie was surprised to hear Nautica’s response. She was so used to people looking down on what she did, she never expected Nautica to understand the game.
“I never looked at it that way. But, shit, it hard out here on a ho. Those johns be crazy as hell. You need a pimp to have yo’ back out here, feel me? This Chicago, and bitches get killed every day.” Sweetie pulled out another cigarette and let in hang from the corner of her mouth as she lit it.
Nautica took a seat next to her, and they began to talk, instantly clicking.
Sweetie sat Indian-style on Nautica’s bed. “New York, huh? I never been outside of Chicago.”
Nautica and Sweetie had been together all day, and it was nearing nightfall as they sat in the hotel room talking about everything under the sun. Nautica discovered that Sweetie was much wiser than her seventeen years and was a good person, just lost. Her mother and father had died at a young age, and she was forced into foster care, just like Nautica. And she’d been turning tricks since she was fourten. They were like two peas in a pod. It seemed as if fate had brought them together.
Sweetie positioned herself comfortably on the bed and scanned around the spacious room. “This is a nice-ass hotel room. I’m not used to shit like this. Every room I see usually looks like a damn dungeon a’ something.”
“Yeah. I’m out of here in the morning,” Nautica said as she combed her hair in the mirror. “I can’t wait until I find my new life and leave all the bullshit behind me.” She smiled to herself. She looked in the mirror and saw Sweetie drop her head. “Oh, I’m sorry. Here I am talking about how my life is about to change when you still in the trap.”
Nautica sat next to Sweetie. Nautica looked at the young girl in front of her and knew that her life had been corrupted at a young age.
“No, it’s cool. My time will come soon. As soon as I save up enough dough, I’m out too. Hell, maybe you’ll see me out in New York in a while.” Sweetie faked a smile, knowing that day probably would never come.
Nautica noticed the needle marks on Sweetie’s arm. Sweetie followed her eyes and quickly turned her arms to hide them.
Everything began to make sense to Nautica now. That was the pimp’s way of controlling and manipulating her, as with most girls lost in the world of prostitution—Cloud the mind with drugs.
“You’re only seventeen,” Nautica whispered as she looked into the girl’s eyes. Something in her heart couldn’t let the girl go down the wrong path like she and Khia had done. Nautica thought saving Sweetie would gain redemption for Khia’s death. She took a deep breath and gently grabbed the girl’s hand. “Look, let’s go grab something to eat on me, okay.”
Not used to getting anything for free, Sweetie’s eyes lit up. “You’re going to pay for my food?”
“I got you,” Nautica said with a smile as she got up. “I’ma jump in the shower, and then we will be out, okay.”
“Okay. Thank you, Nautica,” Sweetie said, smiling from ear to ear.
Nautica got in the shower and began to think about everything that had gone on the past couple of days. Tears flowed and cascaded down her body right along with the shower water. She promised herself at that moment that this was the beginning of a new chapter of her life.
She then thought about helping Sweetie, showing her the right way. While washing herself, she yelled out over the sounds of the running water to Sweetie, “Maybe, you can, you know, go out to New York with me. It would be fun, you know. Don’t worry about the money. I’ll put you up until you get yo’ shit straight.”
After five minutes of washing, Nautica turned off the water and stepped out the shower. She wrapped the terrycloth robe around her body and stepped out into the room, drying her hair with another towel. “So what do you say? You game?”
Nautica looked around when Sweetie didn’t respond. She finally noticed that no one was in the room. “Sweetie?” she called out. Nautica’s heart began to speed up. She rushed to the closet and opened up the closet doors and felt her knees almost buckle. The money was gone! Nautica began to look around the hotel room frantically. “Fuck!” She jetted out the room. “Li’l thievin’ bitch!” she yelled as she ran full speed into the lobby.
By this time, her towel had come off, and she was hot-tailing it through the lobby completely naked and her hair wild. She then looked through the front glass and saw Sweetie getting into a cab. “Bitch!” she yelled and darted outside, running like an Olympic sprinter. A butt-naked Olympic sprinter.
But she wasn’t fast enough. Before she could reach Sweetie, the cab had already pulled off. Nautica looked around for another cab so she could follow the taxi, but the street was empty. “Fuck!!!” She fell to her knees and let out one big scream as she grabbed her head and looked into the sky, totally floored by the fact that she was so gullible.
After ten minutes of crying and on her knees, Nautica finally returned to the hotel, not caring that she was completely naked and in a daze.
I just let my whole life leave in that cab.
As she stormed through the hotel, all eyes in the lobby were on her. “What the fuck are y’all looking at?” she yelled.
All Nautica could do when she made it to her room was stare at the walls in a stage of disbelief. She heard a knock on the door. She quickly wrapped a towel around herself. “If it’s that bitch, I’ma kill her.” She quickly opened the door. It was the hotel manager and a bellhop.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” the small-framed middle-aged white man said, “but we have to ask you to leave the premises.”
“What the hell do you mean, leave the premises? I already paid for a couple of nights here!”
“You have caused a disruption, and the other guests are appalled. You are going to have to leave within thirty minutes, or I will be forced to call the police. You are not even authorized to be in this room, ma’am. There is no record of you checking in. You must leave now.” The manager and bellhop walked off, not even giving Nautica a chance to explain herself.
She yelled, “Fuck this hotel!” and slammed the door in total rage.
Nautica was all cried out and had no more tears to shed as she went over to the side of the bed where her open suitcase was. She began throwing her clothes in her suitcase, cussing herself and Sweetie out. Normally she would’ve put up more of a fight with the manager, but she wanted to hurry up and leave before the cops came since she’d been an accessory to attempted murder only twenty-fours earlier.
With no money and no plan, she packed up and left the hotel.

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