A Thug's Wife (Full Length Novel) (32 page)

             
“I know and that’s what we do.”

             
“Then why the fuck is my fucking seed dead nigga and my wife laid up in the hospital bed! Man fuck you!”

POW! POW! POW!

Quasym riddled Chad with bullets and then turned the gun on Ronnie. He pressed down on the trigger and pumped one bullet into his head.
They gon’ learn today. No more being nice. That’s shit is done!

             
“Get to fuckin’ work! I’ve been lenient on you niggas, but I see now it’s time cut that out! Next muthafucka’ think it’s okay to take fuckin’ advantage of me and my money gon’ get the same results as these two bitches! Think I’m fuckin’ playing, fuckin’ try me!” Just as quickly as Quasym had come, he was gone just as quick. 

***

              Quasym stood over Hova and his wife with vengeance solely fixed in his eyes. His breathing was slow and controlled as he watched the two of them peacefully sleeping. The address that Ashley gave him had been right on point. He arrived over two hours ago and sat outside patiently waiting until all the lights in the place had gone out. Soon as they did, he jumped out of his Challenger and went to the back where he was able to easily pick the lock and go inside.

             
For the last ten minutes, he stood over the couple, silently praying to God to forgive him for what he was about to do. The way he saw it, he didn’t have any other choice. Hova was the one that had gone back on his word. He’d paid Hova one-hundred and fifty stacks to leave him the fuck alone. It was fifty more than what Hova claimed he lost and at the time Quasym called himself being the bigger person. He was settling the shit like a gentleman and even giving Hova something extra for all the strife that had been caused between them. Hova had taken his money and laughed behind his back, just like Marco said that the nigga would.

             
It was all good though, if Hova wanted to play games, then Quasym would play back. He pulled his brand new hunting knife out and crept over to Samantha’s side of the bed. This wasn’t even his style or how he got down, but he had been pushed to do this. He didn’t want to fuck this with this man’s wife, but it was her husband’s fault. She had been innocent in the whole situation, but so had Zaria. Before Quasym could talk himself out of it, he grabbed Samantha by her hair and ran the hunting knife across her throat. There hadn’t even been a chance for her to scream or struggle. It was over with, quick and easy.

             
Quasym wiped the blood from his face and backed away from the bed. He nodded his head and left out of the bedroom and then out of the house the same way he had come in.

 

 

Chapter 32: They Ain't Heard The Last of Hova

 

 

 

Hova eyes popped open as the sunlight peered through the blinds of his bedroom window. He sat up in bed, stretched, and then walked over to shut the blinds. He yawned as he walked towards the bathroom and went inside. He didn’t even turn the light on as he made his way toward the toilet and lifted the seat. He pulled his dick through the hole in his boxers and aimed for the center of the toilet bowl. The stream of urine that flowed out of him felt good and was a huge relief on his bladder.

             
Samantha and he been up the better part of the night drinking and fucking until each of them had passed out. He grinned as he remembered the fun they had last night. It reminded him of how they were when they had been a little younger, fucking like rabbits every chance they got. That was the best memories he had of them, and last night was one of those nights that would go down in history as one of the greatest.

             
He jiggled his dick to get the excess drippings of urine off the tip and then shoved it back into his boxers. He turned the water on the faucet and ran his hands through the faucet. Once again he yawned as wondered what he and Davina would get into while Samantha was at work. He kind of liked this “normal” life. When Quasym paid him his money, he walked away from the game that he had been in damn near his entire life, and it felt good. He hated that he hadn’t done so beforehand. It felt good waking up and not having to worry about a damn thing, but chilling and enjoying the amenities of having a fat bank account and nothing but time on his hands.

             
Them niggas can have dat gutta shit.
Hova thought to himself. He would chill, enjoy his wife, and enjoy his kids. His brush with death had him appreciating them and he valued their life in more ways than he did before. This was the good life that not many people lived to talk about. Hova was blessed.

He squinted his eyes in the dark as he tried to check out his reflection in the mirror. Something seemed to have been caked upon his face, but he couldn’t tell what it was.
He went to reach for the light when a scream so strong practically ripped through the walls and felt as if it would damage his ears.

             
“Aghhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

             
Hova rushed out of the bathroom to find Davina standing next to his bed staring at Samantha. A cold chill ran through his body, paralyzing him in place. He brought his hand up to the left side of his face and then brought his hand out in front him. There was a smudge of blood on the tips of his finger. A warm feeling suddenly shot through him and out of nowhere sweat gathered on his forehead.

             
He slowly moved towards Samantha and pulled the cover back revealing the most horrific sight he had ever seen in his life. He had seen some of the craziest shit in his life, but never nothing this bad. There was so much blood and Samantha’s head looked to be almost decapitated.

             
“Sam?” Hova called out, but knew it was without reason. He blinked his eyes and shut them several times because this had to be a nightmare. The liquor he’d taken in last night surely had him seeing things.

             
“Is she okay, Uncle Hova?”Davina asked him.

             
“Go to yuh room, Davina,” Hova pushed her. He dropped down to the side of the bed and pulled Samantha out of the bed careful to not cause her any more harm.

             
“What’s wrong with her?”

             
“Sam, baby. “Sam!” Hova began to cry. He rocked back and forth as he stared down at his wife. Tears leaked down his face and hit Samantha’s lifeless body. She was gone. He knew it, but he just couldn’t live with that. “Sammmmmmmm!” Hova’s screams were eerie and filled with gut wrenching pain, “They ain’t heard the last of Hova! Sammmmmmm!”

 

 

Small Teaser of Rozalyn 5

 

 

Previously in Rozalyn 4

 

Taron

 

The agents
allowed me to wait with Journey until the crime scene investigators and coroner arrived to take her away. They didn’t give a fuck though. For them, they were ready to toss me in a cell and throw away the key. I had never felt so alone in my life.

It wasn’
t like before when I was locked up, because then I’d asked everyone to go away and allow me to do my time in peace. Then I knew what to expect; I knew how a prison sentence could end in disappointment, so I did what I could to prevent it from ever happening to me. With family being the farthest thing from my mind, I did my time.

             
“Man, get that shit outta my face! For the last fuckin’ time, I don’t know what you’re talking about! I thought I was supposed to be getting processed and given a fuckin’ number. You niggas on some crazy shit right now!” I huffed.

Ever since they dragged me out of my house three or four hours ago, they put me into this dark ass room and have been questioning me non-stop. The
crazy thing about it is it had nothing to do with my charges; the charges that Donald was facing or any of that.

They had all these pictures of Tamar lined up in front of me, along with pictures of people he associated with when he was here in Miami. I was confused as hell, but I wasn’t really paying this shit
any mind. I kept going in and out of focus, mainly thinking about what I had lost today and how it all could’ve been prevented.

             
“Mr. Andrews. We’re offering you a chance to walk away Scott-free from your charges. All you have to do is tell us what we need to know about Tamar’s operation. We want to know who his connects is, who all is involved, on which days or day does he pick up his shipments, and where he stores his drugs and his money. If you can help us with all of that, then we can easily delete your name from this petty money laundering case,” one of the agents, whose name was Diggs said.

             
“I have no idea about none of that,” I answered and puffed on the cancer stick that they’d given to me.

             
“Do you ever wanna see your daughter again? Because no matter what kind of lawyer you go and get, you’ll still end up doing the minimum of ten years behind bars. By then, your daughter will be too old to fuckin’ care who you are, because her mama would’ve moved some other faggot in and tell her that’s daddy,” the other agent Runnings said.

             
I shook my head and tried to ignore what they were saying. Larry was capable of getting anybody off. It was why he was paid the big bucks-but damn--
would I be able to afford him seeing as how everything I had saved up was fuckin’ gone? And now that Tamar wasn’t talking to me, I couldn’t ask him to help me out. Shit, he’d already said I was on my own. What the hell am I gonna do?

             
“Come on, just tell us what you know. Do this for your daughter, do this for her,” Agent Runnings pleaded.

             
“Okay, okay. What is it you wanna know again?” I asked and fired up another cigarette.

             
Agent Runnings took out his pen and pad and closely pulled up a seat next to me. “Where does Tamar get the dope from? Let’s start there.”

 

 

1: Taron

See I ain’t no bitch nigga, no rich nigga

No snitch nigga, I’mma real nigga, that’s real nigga

~August Alsina~

“You said what?” Agent Runnings asked as he scooted his chair closer to me. Taking a huge puff from my cigarette, I allowed the nicotine to caress my lungs before I blew smoke rings in Runnings’ face. Smirking, I chuckled and ran my hand over my head.

              “I said that no matter how hard you fucking try you’ll never catch my bruh slipping. Faggot ass agents get the fuck out my face. I told you I ain’t know shit. I don’t care how much fuckin’ time I get, I don’t know shit!” I yelled, and then shook my head. “Y’all act like y’all can’t hear. Lock me the fuck up, for real, for real.”

             
I politely took a pull from my cigarette and leaned back in my chair. I really can’t believe that they actually thought I was going to give my bruh up. I looked at Agent Runnings’ face and saw that he was turning red, and the shit was funny as hell to me.  I’m sure they had too many squares running through here who would gladly give them a laundry list of names just to shorten their time, but that ain’t me. I didn’t want to go back to prison, but fuck it. I fucked up and if Larry couldn’t get me off then so be it. Nigga wasn’t ‘bout to do no snitching though, especially not on my bruh.

             
WHAM!

             
Agent Runnings stunned me when he punched me in the side of my face causing me to fall back in the chair and hit my head against the floor. He pounced on me, popped me once again in the face and then grabbed the collar of my shirt. Staring down at me, his lips curled up in anger and spittle dripped from the sides.

             
“I don’t give a fuck what you do to me, I don’t know shit,” I hissed and spit blood into that muthafuckas face.

             
WHAM!

He punched me again and then placed his meaty hands around my throat. I sneered at him, unafraid of anything he was about to do to me. With the way I was feeling righ
t now, I was hoping that his ass killed me. It hurt too bad thinking about my fiancé Journey killing herself over me and the agony I caused her and I didn’t know if I could live knowing I was responsible.

None of that shit had to happen. If only I had sta
yed out of Latoya’s bed and showed her how much I really cared for her, then maybe she wouldn’t have done that shit. Can’t believe she did though. I was still in shock and hoping that it was a dream.

“Listen up motherfucker! You either give up Tamar or spe
nd the rest of your life behind bars. I will be sure to recommend that you are giving the maximum considering you already have a lengthy track record. You’re a fucking criminal, and it won’t be a problem getting you at least thirty years in prison,” Runnings said. He released the grip he around my throat and loosened the cuffs around his wrist.

“I don’t give a fuck. I’m sure Tamar will make sure I live a good life in that muthafucka too. Probably better than your ass is living. You know they say federal p
risoners be living a luxury life compared to that state shit. I’m ready,” I laughed.

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