Still Wifey Material (18 page)

“Look, Kira, I told you where they came from. You should be happy just to be with me. I told you many times that I could have any woman I want,” Fatu replied. He always remained calm, even when he was being accused. That shit pissed me off even more. What really got under my skin was when he reminded me that as a wealthy, single, heterosexual man he could have any woman he wanted.

“I know what you told me, but my intuition tells me that your ass may be cheating,” I shot back, throwing my napkin onto the table.

Fatu remained silent. I folded my arms across my chest and gave him the silent treatment right back. Neither of us looked at each other. He pushed food around on his plate and I occasionally played with the straw in my drink. Anger welled up inside me and I finally exploded.

“You know what? You can sit there and play dumb all you want,” I said in a low, angry whisper, “but I know what time it is. If you think I’m going to sit around while you go out and collect scratches from other bitches, then you’re sadly mistaken!” I felt like I was going to burst into tears.

“Relax, Kira. I love only you.” Fatu took my hand into his, trying to hide his scratches, and then kissed me. I smiled inside when he said he loved me, but I kept a straight face. I wanted to believe that he wouldn’t cheat. I’d taken enough shit from Ricky and Russ. I wasn’t trying to go down that same road again.

After our disagreement, Fatu and I didn’t speak to each other during the entire drive home. I made up my mind that I was going to stop acting paranoid and just let him love me, because whether or not I believed it, I was about to be married all over again. This time around, I was going to be happy and rich, and maybe be a mother too.

“Are you going home with me?” Fatu asked.

“If you want me to,” I answered.

“What kind of answer is that? You know I love it when you’re with me. Why you think I keep bugging you about moving in with me?” He reached for my hand.

“Let’s not get into that again. I told you to wait until after the wedding.”

“I know, I know. But can you blame me? Look at you! You’re beautiful! So when I can’t share my bed with you every night, it bothers me.”

I smiled because everything he said sounded heartfelt. I reminded him that our wedding date was less than a month away, so we didn’t have long at all to be together. He bought that line tonight, but I knew that in a couple of days I would be hearing him whine about our living arrangements again.

Fatu used a digital cardkey to open the huge French doors at the entrance of his apartment. I always felt like royalty when I came over. Walking inside, the smell of jasmine was in the air. I could tell the housekeeper had made a house call today because there wasn’t a dust ball in sight. I took off my shoes and flopped down on the love seat. Fatu walked upstairs. I flicked on his sixty-five-inch HDTV that hung over his fireplace and began channel surfing. I ended up at the eleven o’clock news. I wasn’t really into the news, and I was about to change the channel when a story caught my attention. I listened intently as the reporter spoke.

“Police say that a fifth woman was found murdered in her home on Jones Road, near Highway 290. Police Chief Ray Biggs would not confirm the manner of death of this last victim, but the chief did say that the victim put up a fierce struggle and may have injured her assailant. Police believe that all five murders are related. All of the women were murdered in their homes, and all lived in upscale neighborhoods. Police are asking all women to watch their surroundings as they go home, and to make a note if they see anyone suspicious following them or lurking around.”

The news report spooked me out. I couldn’t believe that there might be a serial killer in my neighborhood.

“What is that you are watching?” Fatu’s voice boomed behind me. I jumped and dropped the remote.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that! You scared the shit out of me,” I gasped, holding my chest.

“What are you afraid of?” He chuckled.

“There’s a serial killer in the area, killing women. They said that they believe the guy is following the women home, and then killing them in their houses. That is something I need to be aware of.”

“Oh, I’m sure that once he kidnaps you, with all of that mouth you got, he would set you free quickly,” Fatu joked as he sat next to me.

“That’s not funny.” I rolled my eyes and inched away from him, because I knew what he wanted. I got up and said, “I’m going to take a shower.” I lied.

“I’ll be here waiting.” He smiled and touched his dick.

I rushed upstairs. Although I said I wasn’t going to think about Fatu with other women anymore, or about him cheating, I couldn’t help it. I knew I had a few minutes to search through his shit before he came upstairs to join me in the shower. I crept into his bedroom. Everything was in its place. Fatu kept his shit so neat, I swore he was obsessive-compulsive.

“Shit,” I whispered. I didn’t have much time. I decided to go to the walk-in closet first. If I got busted in there it wouldn’t seem so bad, since I had a small section of the closet for my own clothes. Looking around the closet, I could tell Fatu had been inside. His dirty clothes bin had one shirt sticking out. I frowned. That was unlike him.

I walked over to the bin and lifted the top. I wanted to sniff the boxers he last wore to see if I smelled any pussy juice or saw any cum stains, because if I did, then it was going to be on. As I dug into the bin and searched for the boxers, my hands landed on a white tee. The shirt had a little bit of blood smeared across the bottom of it, and I could tell that if he put on the shirt, the blood spot would hang right above his groin area.

“What the fuck is this?” I asked aloud.

“Kira!” Fatu called. My heart almost jumped out of my chest. I hurriedly stuffed everything back into the hamper. I whirled around, trying to make sure everything was the way he left it.

“Kira?” Fatu called out again, walking into the closet.

I tried to hide my agitation. “Yes? What is it?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to get something to change into before I hop into the shower,” I said nervously, faking like I was eager to fuck him. Fatu looked at me strangely, then he looked around the closet. He looked back at me with a suspicious glare. I smiled a crooked, nervous smile.

“Need some help?”

“Nah, I’m cool. I got it. Now go and get in the bed.”

“All right. But hurry up and shower. My dick is getting impatient.” He walked out of the closet.

I felt like throwing up and my hands shook as I went into the bathroom. I couldn’t help but think about the bloodied T-shirt in Fatu’s closet. The only thing that surfaced in my mind was that he fucked some nasty-ass ho while she was on her fucking period. How fucking disgusting could he be? What was he doing, trying to get AIDS or something? Whatever it was he was out there doing, it didn’t sit well with me at all, so something was going to have to give.

As I was about to head into the shower, I immediately thought back to a sexual episode between me and Fatu that had freaked me out. One night while making love, Fatu was going crazy, like he loved the pussy. All of a sudden he flipped me over, pulled me up on my hands and knees, and forcefully rammed his dick into my asshole. I was not ready for his brutality, and I screamed in pain and grabbed handfuls of the Egyptian cotton sheets. Fatu ignored my screams, grabbed me around the neck, and pulled me closer to him. He rammed me in the ass like an animal while I cried and screamed. Then, just as quickly as he started, he stopped. He growled like an animal as he came. I collapsed on the bed and curled into a fetal position, crying in pain. Fatu finally realized that I was in severe pain, and he rolled over to comfort me.

He told me that he didn’t mean to hurt me, but that my sex was so good he’d gotten carried away. I was so in love with Fatu at the time, I just accepted his explanation. That night he held me and caressed me like no man had done since Ricky. I wanted to be loved so badly that I overlooked all of Fatu’s sexual hang-ups. I figured that one day I would get used to it. But now I wondered. I knew I couldn’t get used to him cheating.

By the time I came out of the bathroom, Fatu had fallen asleep. I was relieved. I stood in the doorway of the bedroom and watched him for a minute, then I noticed the light flashing on his iPhone. He had a text message.

Who the fuck is texting him this time of night?
I wondered.
It must be his bitch!

I tiptoed over to the dresser, picked up the phone, and quickly pressed the button to read his text.

We got a private party going on in the vip room! Put Kira to bed & come join us!

The message was from Bintu. I automatically assumed that they had some strippers up at the club, shaking their stinking asses for a few dollars. I didn’t know what Bintu had going on in his fucking mind, but Fatu wasn’t about to go nowhere. I wanted to let Bintu know this personally, but I used Fatu’s phone to call him back.

“What’s up, brother?” Bintu answered.

“Nah, it’s me, Kira,” I replied with an attitude.

“Oh . . . um, hey, Kira.” He stumbled over his greeting.

“Hey to you too, Bintu.”

“Um . . . where is Fatu?”

“He’s asleep, since he didn’t have to put me to bed. So he won’t be able to join you at your party in the VIP room.”

Bintu was silent for a moment. He knew he’d been busted. “All right. Well when he wakes up in the morning, let him know that I was trying to get in touch with him.”

“All right.”

Right after I hung up with Bintu, I pressed the Menu key on Fatu’s phone and scrolled through his call history. To my surprise, his entire incoming and missed call lists were filled with the number 713-555-7979, which was Nikki’s fucking number.

Why the hell is her number in his phone so many times? I mean, what part of the game is this? What the hell is really going on?
I wondered.

Shit, was I going to have to call her ass up so I could get to the bottom of this thing? Or should I step to this clown and ask him? I mean, two stories were better than one because I knew they were both going to come up with some bogus ass shit. I decided to call Nikki’s ass first.

While I was dialing and waiting for her phone to ring my heart started beating uncontrollably, but it stopped the second Nikki said hello.

“Nikki, what’s going on between you and Fatu?” I didn’t hesitate to ask.

Nikki hesitated and then she said, “Who the fuck is this?”

“Cut it out, drama queen! You know who it is!” I spat back.

“Why the fuck are you calling me?”

“No . . . no . . . no . . . sweetie, I’m the one asking questions. So explain to me why the hell you are calling my fiancé so damn much.”

“Because I be doing little odd jobs at the club for him, that’s why.”

“Come on now, Nikki, when did you start working at the club?”

Irritated by my question, she said, “About a few weeks now, right after I left the shop.”

“Well, what do you do for him?”

“Look, I ain’t got time for all this shit! Ask him!” she roared and then she ended the call.

I was still feeling uneasy about the whole thing, because now I was wondering why Fatu never told me that Nikki was working at the club. I mean, it wasn’t a big deal, but I would have expected him to mention it at least once in an indirect way. Then again, maybe he figured that I wouldn’t want to know. Whatever his reason, it would all come out sooner or later. I knew Nikki would tell him that I called her, but I could care less.

After I set Fatu’s iPhone back down, I quietly slid into bed next to him. I really wanted to go home, but it was too late, so I would spend the night next to a man I was starting to believe was a complete stranger.

W
hen I got up the next morning, Fatu was still asleep. I left him in bed and got dressed to go home. Before I walked out, I left him a note on the refrigerator, telling him I had to run off because I had an appointment to see my dressmaker. The lie sounded good, so I knew he’d believe it. Upon my arrival at home, Nikki was busy in the kitchen cooking some French toast, which was shocking to see because she didn’t do too much cooking. As I walked farther into the kitchen, I noticed that she wasn’t just cooking for herself. Suddenly her attitude last night made sense.

The stranger saw me first. “Hey, what’s up?” he greeted.

“Good morning,” I replied to the strange man, trying to be polite. In all actuality, I was pissed. We had rules in this house, and one of them was that men weren’t allowed to come to the house until after we’d known them for at least three months. I’d never seen this cat before in my life, so I knew Nikki’s silly ass had just met him. Not only that, this nigga was sitting around my house in his fucking boxers, like he lived there, so I knew she fucked him last night.

Why would she let a nigga she’d just met come and fuck her where she laid her head? How stupid and desperate could she be? What, he couldn’t take her to his place, or to a hotel? See, that’s what’s wrong with females today. We’re always making shit easy for these niggas. Let their asses get out here and go the extra mile for us, not the other way around. I sighed deeply. There was no use in me getting all upset, because she wasn’t ever going to learn.

Nikki placed two slices of French toast on the guy’s plate and then she looked up and saw me. “Whatcha doing home so early?” she asked as she fidgeted slightly with embarrassment.

“I’ve got some errands to run, but I wanted to come home and change into something more comfortable.” I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from saying anything I would regret, especially in front of a stranger.

“What time are you leaving?” she asked as if she was trying to rush me out of there.

“I’m not sure. Maybe in another hour or so.” I looked at the stranger again. “So, who is your new friend?”

“This is Nate. He’s Carmen’s husband’s homeboy.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember seeing you at the wedding. You were the best man.”

Nate smiled, revealing his white set of teeth. He wasn’t all that handsome, but he had nice, smooth skin, a freshly cut Caesar with long side burns, and his body was nice, so I guess he was doable. I was sure that Nikki’s hot ass felt the same way.