The Trophy Wife (4 page)

The music became more intense, and finally she ended her dance with a dramatic fall to the stage. It was almost like she was crying through her performance. Kalil cleared his throat and rose from his seat.

His presence startled her, and she jumped up in embarrassment and made her way to the sound system that contained the CD she'd just danced to.

“I'm sorry, ma. I didn't mean to scare you,” he said as he walked to the edge of the stage. It wasn't until she turned around that he recognized her. It was the same girl that he'd seen in the club a couple nights before.

“My name's not
ma,
it's London. And don't worry about it, you didn't scare me,” she said with an attitude.

Kalil could hear the island accent that graced her pretty lips. He stared at her for a minute, causing her to blush and look away.

“Is there something that I can do for you?” She looked him up and down, taking in his dirty appearance. She frowned as she waited for him to reply. “Excuse me,” she said, snapping him out of his trance.

“Oh yeah, my daughter Jada. I'm here to pick her up. I know I'm a little late, but I just got off work.”

“Well, Jada's already been picked up.” London slipped on a sweater that hung loosely over her right shoulder and pulled her hair up into a long ponytail before she continued. “I called her mother about a half-hour ago, and she sent someone to get her. I thought it was her father, but now that I've met you, I guess he must have been a friend of the family.”

“What! Who picked her up?” Kalil didn't mean to yell, but just the thought of Fatboy picking up his daughter had him enraged.

London frowned. She wanted to tell him to check his tone, but it was obvious that he was worried about his child, so she let it go. “Let me grab the sign-out log. He had to sign it to get her. I've seen his face before, so I'm sure everything's okay.” She dug through her gym bag and pulled out a clipboard.

Kalil scanned the list until he affirmed what he already knew. Fatboy's name was written in sloppy handwriting next to Jada's.

“Is everything okay?”

Kalil didn't even respond to her question. He rushed out of the gym and ran most of the way to Quinn's house.

 

 

He quickly borrowed Quinn's car and drove over to Destiny's. He didn't see Fatboy's car outside. He didn't even bother to knock before entering the house. He barged in and slammed the door behind him. “Jada!” he yelled as he pushed past Destiny.

“Fuck you doing?” she asked as she walked behind him.

“If something happens to her, I'm gon' kill you.” Kalil pointed his finger in her face and pushed her aside.

“Nigga, what is you talking about?” she yelled. “Don't be coming up in here starting no shit!”

“Where is my daughter?” he yelled.

Jada emerged from her room, still wearing her pink leotard. “I'm right here, Daddy.”

He bent down and picked her up as he hugged her tightly.

“Daddy, you're squeezing me too tight.”

Jada laughed as Kalil continued to hold her. He leaned back to make sure that every single hair was in place on her head. His dirty hand caressed her youthful cheeks.

Jada could see the tears that had formed in his eyes. “Daddy, you're getting my clothes dirty,” she whined.

Kalil kissed her on the cheek and put her down. “I'm sorry. Daddy will get it cleaned for you. Go to your room, baby girl.”

Destiny was standing in the middle of the kitchen with her hand on her hips. She didn't have a clue as to why he'd come in her crib tripping.

“Keep that nigga away from my daughter.”

“Kalil, why are you tripping? If you were there to pick her up like I told you, I wouldn't have had to call Fatboy to pick her up.”

“What the fuck were you thinking? Don't have that nigga around my daughter! You don't know shit about that mu'fucka. He got beef with niggas from all over and you got Jada out here riding with him like she's his shorty. That ain't his seed,” Kalil yelled, “she's mine.”

“Kalil, please . . . ain't nobody trying to take your place. He doesn't want to be Jada's daddy.”

“You don't think, Destiny. Damn! It wasn't too long ago that I almost had that nigga put to sleep. What if some shit popped off while she was with him? What if she got hit by a stray bullet behind some beef that stupid mu'fucka got? Huh? You think you're so smart. You ain't in the streets. You don't know shit about Fatboy, besides what his dick look like. Keep him away from Jada.”

“You are really tripping right now. Her dance instructor called and said that my baby was still at the school, so I sent Fatboy to pick her up. Ain't shit happened to her yet. I been taking care of her just fine without you, so don't be trying to flip on me about how I take care of her now.” Destiny mumbled to herself, “Nigga wanna come home trying to play daddy,” and flipped her hand, signaling that she was done with the conversation.

Before storming out of the house, Kalil said, “You heard what I said, Destiny—Keep his ass away from my daughter before I kill him!”

Destiny followed him to the door. “Well, make sure your ass is on time tomorrow, since your little girl is too precious to get a ride from anybody else!”

Kalil finished his morning routine and walked into the living room, where Quinn, a blunt hanging out of his mouth, was playing Xbox. Kalil walked past him, and without exchanging words, they smacked palms.

Kalil headed straight for the kitchen to get something to eat. He glanced over at the calendar on the fridge and noticed today was the day he had to see his parole officer. “Damn, I almost forgot about that shit,” he said to himself as he fixed himself a bowl of cereal.

Kalil dreaded going to work, but he had to. It was the only thing he could do to make some money. The only true skill he'd acquired over the years was the ability to hustle; that's all he knew. And if that was taken from him, he'd be left naked. Destiny had run through the money that he had stashed away for a rainy day while he was still locked up, so he was back to square one.

Quinn had offered him a partnership in his weed hustle, but Kalil had been in the game long enough to know that this was a dead end. Quinn had been selling weed for five years and was still in the same position, living in the same projects, driving the same car. To Kalil the risk outweighed the reward, so he passed.

Kalil returned to the living room with a big bowl of Frosted Flakes in his hands. “Fam, I got to go and see my P.O. today. Will you shoot me up there?”

“I can't do it. I got some money coming through today, so I got to stay put. Here you go.” Quinn dug in his pockets to search for his keys. He pulled them out and tossed them to Kalil. The keys landed right in his cereal.

Kalil was agitated, but he couldn't help but laugh. They both chuckled at the incident, and then Kalil prepared to take off.

He drove down the highway rapping along with Jay-Z's song. The song reminded Kalil of his old hustler's mentality.

Home for only two weeks, he'd repeatedly contemplated visiting his old connect. He knew all he had to do was say the word and Hova would bless him with some bricks of the East Coast's best cocaine. He'd done four years and had never once mentioned Hova's name. The thought of snitching never crossed his mind. He was facing twenty years for the coke he was caught with, but an illegal search hindered the prosecution's case. Instead of the intent to distribute charge, he ended up being sentenced for four to six years for possession. Every time he thought of returning to the streets, he kept thinking about Jada. He vowed not to leave her side again. He wanted to make things right and be a father to her.

Kalil glanced at the clock on the CD player and noticed he had an hour to kill before seeing his parole officer, so he decided to go see Jada. He turned off the highway and headed toward Destiny's house. When he pulled up to the house, he saw a Benz in the driveway. He knew whose car it was by the plates, which read FATBOY.

Just before Kalil parked on the curb, out came Fatboy. He didn't even notice Kalil, but the slamming door caught his attention. The two men's eyes locked, and they both stared at each other intensely. Fatboy threw both of his arms up. He then pulled up his black T-shirt, exposing the rolls in his belly, and his chrome .45.

Kalil already knew what time it was. He didn't have a gun and didn't want anything to pop off. He just said, “I'll see you in the streets, homeboy.”

“That's what I thought.” Fatboy smirked and got into his Benz, satisfied that he'd just belittled Kalil.

Kalil waited until Fatboy pulled off and then entered the house.
I'm going to get at his fat ass.
As soon as he pushed open the cracked door, the smell of sex crept through his nose. He made his way back to Destiny's room. He opened the door and saw her naked body sprawled across the bed, her bald vagina in clear view as she lightly snored. He still admired her perfect bronze body and loved the way she kept her “lil' mama” shaved. He was tempted to hit it, but he knew the drama that would come along with that. He knew if he had sex with her, she would think that things were back to normal and he didn't want to mislead her, knowing how attached she could get.

Kalil shook his head and closed the door. He heard the television playing in his daughter's room and headed toward the noise. He poked his head in her room and whispered, “Hey, baby girl.” He didn't see his daughter, so he stepped inside the room. “Jada?”

He heard sniffling coming from the closet. He gently slid open the closet and saw Jada sitting in the corner, crying her eyes out. Kalil dropped to his knees and began to rub Jada's hair. “Baby girl, what's the matter?”

“Nothing.” Jada began to wipe her tears away as if she was okay.

It hurt Kalil's heart to see his baby girl in any kind of pain. He began to tremble. He gently grabbed Jada's face, making her look him directly in his eyes. “You would never lie to Daddy, would you?”

“N-no,” she stammered, wiping her eyes with both hands.

“Why are you crying?” Kalil asked again in a soft tone. Jada didn't respond, but the look in her eyes immediately let him know that he really didn't want to hear the answer to the question. He gently grabbed her hand and asked her again, “Why are you crying, baby girl? You can tell Daddy anything.”

“You pinky-swear you won't tell Mommy?” Jada held her fist up and extended her little finger.

“I pinky-swear.” Kalil locked fingers with his daughter and kneeled next to her.

She dropped her head. “Fatboy tried to touch me again.”

Kalil clenched his fist so tight, it began to hurt. “What?” he asked, his voice shaking. He felt like he was partly to blame if Jada had been harmed, because he'd left a void in her life when he was locked up.

“Fatboy . . . he touched me down there again.” Jada pointed toward her pelvic area.

Kalil tightly clenched his jaws and gritted his teeth. His heart ached in a way it never had before. Jada had just delivered a crushing blow. He couldn't think of anything to say to her. Tears welled up in his eyes as he tried to be strong for his daughter, but the situation was too much to bear. A single tear slid down his cheek as he gently embraced Jada and rocked her back and forth.

“Baby girl,” he whispered as he comforted his pride and joy, “it's okay. Everything's gonna be okay. Daddy will take care of you.”

His sadness quickly transformed into complete rage as he envisioned Fatboy abusing his little girl.
He's dead. I'm-a dead that fat nigga,
Kalil thought as he cried with his daughter. He quickly wiped his tears away so that Jada didn't see him so weak. He picked her up and headed straight for the door. Then he went to the car and put her in. “Baby girl, stay in this car. No matter what you hear, don't get out, okay?”

“No, Daddy,” she cried. “Don't leave!”

“I'm never leaving, Jada. I'll always be here for you. Now lock these doors. I'll be right back.”

Jada did as she was instructed, and Kalil headed back into the house. He had some unfinished business. Kalil was so enraged, he was shaking uncontrollably. He couldn't believe that Destiny had allowed harm to come to their daughter. Staring at the world through rose-colored glasses, she didn't realize that Fatboy was sexually abusing her own daughter. Kalil felt that Destiny was just as responsible as Fatboy for the abuse, and they both would have to pay. At that moment, it was Destiny's turn.

Kalil stormed into the house, tears in his eyes and hate in his heart. He burst through the front door screaming, “Destiny!” He stormed into the back room, and Destiny was still asleep without a care in the world. He picked up the brass lamp that stood on her dresser and walked next to her. He held the lamp over his head, preparing to crush it on her head. “How could you?” Kalil said as he hovered over her. “How could you let him hurt my baby, Des?”

He couldn't bring himself to strike her with the lamp, so he dropped it and took off his leather belt.

Destiny felt the heavy leather belt wrap around her face and quickly jumped up. “Aghh!” she screamed, trying to figure out what was going on. The first thing she saw was Kalil's hateful eyes. Just the look alone would scare a person half to death.

Kalil, with all his might, struck her across the face again.
Whap!

“Kalil, what the fuck is wrong with—”

Whap!
He struck her across the back.
Whap!

“Kalil! Stop it!” she screamed in agony.

“You let this nigga in here. You let this nigga touch on my daughter!” Kalil hit her again, this time catching her on the arm.

Destiny tried to block the hits, but they were coming too hard and fast. She balled up on the floor and tried to cover her face as Kalil swung wildly and nonstop.

Whap, whap, whap!
The more he thought about Fatboy, the more he swung.

The thrashing went on for a good five minutes. He wanted her to feel Jada's pain.
Whap!
Destiny was balled up in fetal position and crying like a little child. Her screams registered in his brain, and he looked down over her body.

Kalil was breathing hard. He realized what he was doing and stopped swinging. He began to cry, saying, “Jada is coming with me. You're just as responsible as he is. Jada will never be with you. Never!” He looked down at Destiny and walked out the house to return to his daughter.

Destiny managed to pick her sore body off the floor to try to prevent Kalil from taking her daughter away. Her body had at least fifty belt marks on it. She had more stripes on her body than a zebra. She wasn't far behind him, yelling hysterically, “Where are you going with my daughter? Kalil! Kalil!”

She grabbed and pulled on Kalil's shirt, trying to stop him from leaving, but he pulled away from her and made it to the car. He jumped in the car and locked the doors while Destiny banged on the windows.

“Jada, unlock the door!” Destiny yelled as she stared at her daughter through the window.

Jada didn't even look at her mother. She looked over at her father and whispered, “Daddy, I want to go with you.”

With that, Kalil pulled off, leaving Destiny screaming in the middle of the street. “I will never let anyone hurt you again, baby girl,” Kalil promised as he placed his hand over his daughter's. The only thing on Kalil's mind at that point was to find Fatboy and make him pay for what he'd done. In his mind, Fatboy was already dead.

 

 

“You say this is his main spot, right?”

“Yep. This spot do about fifty a day. I used to trap in there before Fatboy took it over.”

Kalil and Quinn sat outside of one of Fatboy's dope houses. They had watched over a hundred fiends come in and out of the house, but no workers. That told Kalil that Fatboy hadn't picked up his cash nor had it dropped off to him, and that there was a lot of money in the spot. They'd been there for the last four hours and saw no sign of Fatboy.

Quinn began to get impatient. “Yo, son, let's just run up in there and let his workers have it. Let's make him look for us. I'ma kill him for that foul shit!” Quinn cocked back his gun.

As badly as Kalil wanted to act on Quinn's idea, he knew it was too risky. He was willing to wait all night for Fatboy if he had to.

All of a sudden, Jada's situation became clearer. She'd told Kalil that she liked to dress as a boy because every time she wore dresses Fatboy would try to touch her.

“Nah, kid. It's the first of the month. He's eventually going to come and pick up his money, or one of his workers is going to lead us straight to him.”

Just before Quinn could respond, a tall, dark-skinned guy walked out of the house with a black duffel bag in his hand.

“Yo, there go Duke. That's Fatboy's little man.”

Quinn ducked down in his seat to avoid being seen. “Yo, let's follow him.” He looked over at Kalil.

Kalil didn't even answer. He just pulled his hoodie over his head and yanked his pistol from his waist. Without hesitation, he jumped out the car and began to walk aimlessly toward the boy. Kalil's face was concealed under the dark hoodie and he acted as if he was drunk. Duke didn't even notice Kalil until he was about ten feet away.

“Yo, partna!” Kalil said as he stumbled on purpose, nearly falling.

Duke laughed at Kalil, not knowing that he was sober as a pastor. “Get yo' drunk ass away from me, son.” He pushed Kalil away from him, causing him to fall.

In one swift motion, Kalil grabbed his banger, rose up, and pressed the gun to Duke's forehead. “Where the fuck is Fatboy?” he said through clenched teeth.

Duke dropped the duffel bag on the ground and threw both of his hands up. “Yo, I don't know.”

“Oh, you think it's a game, huh?” Kalil looked Duke straight in the eyes. “Get yo' ass in the car.” He grabbed Duke by the collar while still holding the pistol to his head. Then he picked up the duffle bag off the ground, pulled Duke to the ride where Quinn was waiting, and jumped in the backseat along with Duke. His trigger finger was itching. “Yo, I'ma ask you again—Where is Fatboy?”

“I don't know,” Duke replied.

Kalil was tired of playing games with him. He pointed his gun toward Duke's thigh and pulled the trigger.
Boom!

“Aghh! Aghh shit!” Duke grabbed his thigh in agony.

Quinn looked back at Duke and began to speak to him calmly, as if they were all friends. “My man ain't playing over there. If you know where Fatboy at, you betta spit it out.”

“Or I'ma put another one in you. This time it's going to be in your face.” Kalil put the pistol to Duke's head.

“Okay, okay!” Duke put both of his hands up between the gun and his head. “He went to VA this weekend. He goes up there to re-up once a month with his man. I swear, that's all I know,” Duke said, tears forming in his eyes.