A Thug's Wife (Full Length Novel) Read online

  "Shittt, I can’t call it. Just tryna’ get this money. Tryna’ get back right, ya’ feel me?" Quasym said motioning to his Chevy. He noticed the nasty look that Dan-D gave his ride, and it caused his stomach to turn. He was thoroughly embarrassed and couldn’t wait to get this shit over with. He could tell that Dan-D looked down on him, and it hurt him to his core.

  "I feel ya’, I feel ya’. Shit, when Andres told me you wanted to meet up I ain’t even ask no questions. I told him me, and you went way back. Back to when me and your sister used to sneak around in the abandoned buildings in the projects yo’!" Dan-D broke into laughter reminiscing about the time that he and Quasym’s older sister Tessa had together. She was his high school sweetheart, and he’d shared some good memories with her. Just thinking about those moments had Dan-D wanting to make a special call just to see how she was doing.

  "So, Andres told you I wanted to cop some work from you?" Quasym asked.

  "Yea, he called me this morning and told me be on the lookout for your call. He knows I don’t do new business just on a whim. Only through referrals and being that it came directly from him, and I already knew you, shit was nothing. Ya’ know?"

  Quasym nodded his head unsure what to say next. Andres ensured that Dan-D would be at this meeting just so that he would be killed, so for him there was nothing left to be said.

  ​"You ready? Let’s go in here and sit down so we can chop it up for a lil’ bit," Dan-D said. He waved Quasym to follow him, and the two of them went inside the small-dilapidated house. The moment they were inside, Quasym quickly removed his pistol from his waist. He pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. He’d forgotten to remove the safety, and that mistake had fucked him up.

  Dan-D quickly turned around upon noticing the familiar sound of the trigger clicking. To his amazement, Quasym had pulled a pistol, and he was utterly confused. He thought this was somebody that he could trust, but he should’ve known not to trust no broke nigga. Instantly, he pulled his gun from his pants and fired hitting Quasym in the shoulder.

  "Grr!" Quasym grunted. His eyes widened in fear as Dan-D aimed for his head, but as luck would have it Dan-D’s gun jammed not allowing another bullet to escape from the chamber. Upon noticing this, Quasym pulled back on his hammer and fired a shot that hit Dan-D in the center of his head. Immediately, Quasym backed out of the house and took off running to his car. He’d done it. Dan-D was dead, and there was no turning back.

  Chapter 6: Love & War

  'Cause we made it this far on for better or worse. I want to feel it even if it hurts. If I gotta cry, to get to the other side. Let’s go cause we gon' survive, oh. It was going on three a.m., and Zaria was up cleaning the house from top to bottom. She sang along to Tamar Braxton's hit Love and War as she ran the mop across the kitchen floor.

  Her mind was all over the place with everything going on in her personal life. The man she loved was now her husband and he had a child outside of their relationship. If that weren't bad enough, her mama did the unthinkable by bringing the baby mama to the most important occasion of her life.

  She hadn't spoken to her mama or Quasym since she'd left the church days ago, but now she was starting to miss her man. They couldn't afford to honeymoon, but that didn't mean anything to her. She had taken off work prior to her wedding, just so that she could spend a whole week making love to Quasym. She had all kinds of sexy tricks up her sleeve, but it all had been ruined.

  This was not supposed to be like this. Zaria thought as she tossed the mop to the floor. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at nothing in particular. She wanted to call Quasym and tell him to come home. She was lonely and felt that now was the time for them to talk about this baby situation and move on from it.

  She was not about to let that ruin her life, but she did want the facts. She needed to know the when and the where and the extent of the relationship. She wasn't the type to try and keep a man from seeing his child, but she had some stipulations she wanted to lay down; such as Quasym bringing Quita to their home instead of him visiting her at Tianna's and also her being there when Quasym picked her up. That bitch Tianna was not about to run shit up in her house.

  Just as Zaria decided that she would text Quasym and tell him to come home, she heard a loud crash at her front door. Her heart felt as if it would jump out of her chest, and she ran to grab a knife from the kitchen drawer.

  Another crash came and then twisting of the door knob. Zaria quickly tossed the knife to the floor and then ran to her bedroom to grab the pistol that Quasym had hidden in the closet. She pulled the closet door open, and reached for the small brown bag that sat on top. She noticed how light it was and as she looked inside, disappointment set in and fear suddenly drowned her.

  Running out of the closet, and into the bedroom, the sense of fear only grew stronger. Blood suddenly stained the carpet, and she had no idea where it had come from.

  "Z-baby, where you at?"

  Zaria placed her hand over her chest, to calm her erratic breathing. Calmness somewhat soothed her upon hearing Quasym's voice. But, where was this blood coming from? She thought as she followed where she'd heard his voice where there was also a trail of blood leading to him.

  "Sym, what—oh, my God, baby what happened?"

  Quasym stood over the sink scrubbing the gun that she had been looking for. The white ceramic sink was filled with blood-tinged water.

  "What the fuck happened Sym? Where is all this blood--"

  Zaria shook her head and began to panic. She noticed the tiny hole in Quasym's shirt and knew that it was his blood. She pulled him back away from the sink causing him to drop the gun on the floor.

  "Z-baby no, chill! Let me clean this shit up!"

  "Sym, you've been shot! What happened to you? Are you okay? Baby, we gotta go to the hospital!"

  "Nah ma’, no hospital. Just grab the bleach and get me something clean to put on."

  Zaria didn't want to leave her husband in fear that he would die from his gunshot wound. She hated herself for telling him he couldn’t come home. She just knew that this was her fault, and if he had been home, then this would have never happened. But then again, she knew that Quasym did a little hustling in the streets, and shit like this happened all the time. This is why she preferred that he got a real job, but Quasym refused, always saying he wasn’t about to be pushing a mop for the white man.

  "Z, go get the bleach! Fuck!" Quasym yelled, scaring the shit out of Zaria.

  She jumped back at the sound Quasym’s voice bouncing off the walls at her. Turning to leave out of the bathroom, she rushed into the kitchen and grabbed the bleach from underneath the sink. As she headed back to the bathroom, she started thinking about the gun and how it was missing from the closet. She wondered why Quasym was cleaning it off when he was the one that had been shot. She didn’t get that part and wanted to know more.

  "Sym, what did you do?" Zaria asked knowing that something was up.

  Quasym stripped himself of all his clothing and was waiting for the bleach in just his boxers. She could see the bullet wound more clearly in his shoulder and saw that dark red blood continued to ooze out of it. Zaria didn’t know what to think. She just hoped whatever happened that it wouldn’t land Quasym back in jail. She couldn’t handle his being gone again for any amount of years. The stress alone would be too much to endure this time around.

  Quasym ignored Zaria as he folded the gun inside of his blood-drenched clothing that sat on the floor. He snatched the bleach from Zaria’s hands, opened and poured it all over the sink where he had been washing the gun off. Next he sat the bleach down, grabbed the pile from the floor, and headed towards the kitchen. Zaria followed behind him not saying anything, only thinking, and wondering.

  "Sym, stop and talk to me! What the hell is going on? What did you do?" Zaria grabbed Quasym’s arm to stop him as he loaded the pile of clothes and then the gun inside of a trash bag. She wanted him to tell her what happened. How he got shot and why he was getting ri
d of the gun? She wanted to know why he was even carrying the gun knowing that he was a convicted felon and would easily go back to prison if he had been caught with it. She always fussed at him about it, but he never listened.

  "I don’t have time to talk to you, Z! I got a hole in my fucking shoulder, and I gotta get rid of this damn gun! I’ll holla at you later, but not right now!"

  Quasym grabbed his cell phone and dialed the contact number that he had for Andres. He knew that it would be a long shot to call him considering the many times he’d called the number before; it went unanswered.

  "Yes," the voice on the other line said. He surprised Quasym when he answered and caused him to stop in his tracks.

  "Andres?" Quasym questioned.

  "No, but what can I do for you, Quasym? Andres is a busy man."

  "I’ve been shot. I can’t go to the hospital."

  "Where are you?"

  "I’m at home right now but-"

  "Someone will be there shortly. Stay put."

  "Don’t you-hello…..hello?"

  Quasym looked at his phone and noticed that the caller had hung up on him. He wanted to tell them to meet him somewhere because he did not want to do anything in front of Zaria. He wanted to keep her in the dark just until he was able to get things situated.

  "Look baby, I know that you worried and that you don’t know what’s going on, but I gotta keep it that way. Trust me when I say, I’m only doing what I have to do for us. I made so many promises to you when I was locked up, and I haven’t been able to keep none of them."

  "I’m not worried about the promises that you made to me, Sym. I am worried about you…right now. You got a bullet in you and you 'bout to get rid of a gun. Why?"

  "I can’t tell you. I can’t tell you, baby. Just know that I’m about to make good on everything that I promised to you. I’m gonna take care of you like I said. Pretty soon you won’t have to work unless you choose to."

  "But how you gonna do that, Sym?" Zaria asked with tears filling her eyes. She wasn’t stupid at all, and she knew that Quasym had done something really bad. As much as she wanted to know what it was, she knew that he would never tell her and that it was for her own good.

  Quasym stepped closer to Zaria and wrapped his arm around her. He placed his face into her neck like he always did and slowly filled her skin with light kisses. Quasym loved Zaria and felt that everything he was doing to get ahead was for her. He would give his life if it meant that Zaria would be taken care of. He didn’t want her to want for anything, and he was going to see to it that she did not.

  "I love you, Z-baby and a nigga mean that shit. Don’t worry about nothing, I got you." Quasym said, and Zaria nodded her head. "You can’t say anything about what happened here tonight, okay? Nothing about me being shot. Nothing. Not to your mama, your sister-not even Yessenia. Okay?"

  Zaria nodded her head and wrapped her arms around Quasym, "I promise."

  Quasym took a seat on their sofa while he waited for someone to show up. The pain in his shoulder was ruthless, but he didn’t want Zaria knowing that he was in pain. For the sake of her, he kept a straight face and acted as if nothing was wrong.

  Zaria walked over to Quasym and straddled him. She carefully wrapped her arms around him and planted a kiss on his lips. She was so scared, but she commended Quasym for the sacrifices he was willing to make for them. She began to grind her hips against Quasym’s desperately wanting to feel him inside of her. She refused to let him get away without giving her what she’d been missing.

  "Baby, what you doing? Damn, a nigga done been shot and you tryna get that pussy wet. Really," Quasym laughed. "You really tryna kill me, huh? You that mad?"

  "Just be still and let me take care of you. I missed you," Zaria cooed in his ear. She reached down and pulled her nightgown up and slid her panties to the side. She removed Quasym’s already hard dick from his boxers and eased it inside of her warmth.

  "Shit, you were ready for this, huh?"

  "Yes, I was just about to tell you to come home before you scared the shit out of me."

  Zaria slowly eased up and down Quasym’s shaft and lightly moaned as his thickness filled her. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his. He felt so good to her. She wanted to give him the ride of his life, but had to remember that he was most likely in pain. Taking it easy, she gripped his dick by tightening her pussy muscles, squeezing and releasing him each time she went up and down on him.

  Quasym took his arm and wrapped it around Zaria’s waist. He squeezed her ass into his hand and slowly bounced her up and down on his dick. He bit his bottom lip and stared up into his wife’s eyes. Their lovemaking was always magical. Every time they were intertwined with one another, music was always created.

  "Mmgh!" Zaria moaned.

  "Ohh!" Quasym groaned.

  "Damn, this feels so good. This shit is the best!"

  This was the first time they had been together since they’d been one, and the feeling was like never before. Neither of them knew the reason it felt so much better this time, but it did. Zaria was so wet that she was practically creating a puddle into Quasym’s lap.

  "Work that pussy baby! Damn, you’re so wet! Gonna make a nigga cum quick!"

  Zaria couldn’t help herself. She brought her knees together, placed her hands onto Quasym’s chest and rode him like her life depended on it. She felt herself about to cum. Her mouth dropped, and her breathing quickened.

  "Oh, my God, this feels so good baby! I’m cumming!"she yelled.

  "I’m a cum with you. Come on!" Quasym leaned back, resting his head against the sofa. He placed a firm hold on Zaria’s butt as he held her into place. He shut his eyes and shot off inside of her. Zaria had made him forget all about the gunshot wound and what he had done to get it. But just as soon as he forgot, the knock at the door caused him to remember. A knock at the door that would be the start of their new lives.

  Chapter 7: Jokes On Me

  3 months later

  "Kareem, what are you doing?" Cherie asked as she watched him drop her bags at her feet. Her heart raced, and she was confused. It was everything that she had brought to his place every time she visited. She didn’t understand what was going on.

  "This is all your stuff I found around here. I think I got everything."

  "Okay, but what is going on? Why are you not allowing me to come in?"

  As soon as Cherie knocked on the door, Kareem was there to stop her from entering. He was done with her and her childish ways. He knew that Cherie was only nineteen years old when he’d met her, but he had hoped that she would be the woman that he needed.

  In the beginning, things were good, and he just knew that Cherie was going to be his wife. Kareem was twenty-six years and was tired of not having any stability in his life. He was a well-educated man, with a six-figure paying job. So, to say the least, Kareem had his shit together. The only thing he was missing was someone to share his life with, someone that he could give his last name and have children with.

  As fine as Cherie was to him and as good as the sex was whenever they were with one another, Cherie just didn’t do it for him. She seemed to be with him for what he had to offer to her, and when he didn’t have enough, her attitude became nasty. He had grown to care for Cherie, but it seemed the more he cared, the more money she seemed to want from him.

  Kareem didn’t mind taking care of his woman, but he wanted it to feel natural to him when he did and not like an obligation. He hated to do her like this, but it was for the best. He felt himself headed toward a path of destruction the longer he messed with Cherie and before that happened he would rather they go their separate ways.

  "It’s over Cherie. I can’t do this anymore."

  "What do you mean it’s over? What did I do?"

  "Cherie you just….you’re not the woman for me. I tried to make it work, but it’s not going how I would have liked for it to."

  "How am I not the woman for you? Kareem, I’ve been a good woman to you. How
can you say that?’

  "Cherie, I know the only reason you’re with me is for my money. You’re a young gold digger, and you just want someone to take care of you. I don’t mind taking care of my woman, but I at least need her to have some type of damn drive…some goals."

  "I have goals Kareem. I have goals!" Cherie yelled.

  She was getting frustrated with Kareem and couldn’t believe that this was happening to her. She was actually being dumped in the hallway of his building, and she didn’t know how to handle it. This was a first for her; she was the one that usually did the dumping.

  She stared up at Kareem’s tall, statuesque frame and was truly hurt by some of the things he was saying to her. Although she knew some of it to be true, she hadn’t expected him to call her on it. And she damn sure didn’t expect him to leave her for it. He was normally weak and passive. What the fuck is up with him? Cherie thought. How he gonna do this shit after I just gave up all the niggas I fuck with for him?

  In an attempt to give him all of her attention, she dismissed all of her sidepieces and was going to focus on their relationship. Although she had talked to him for his money in the beginning, she had actually grown to love Kareem. She had known that one day he would be her husband. He had the right amount of cash and was on his way to making more as soon as he got a promotion at work.

  Cherie stared into Kareem’s brown eyes and placed her hand on the side of his face. His caramel coated skin was smooth and warm. She got on the tips of her toes and placed her thick lips onto his. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth hoping that she could sway him over and make him forget about breaking up with her.

  Kareem pushed her away, "Your only goal Cherie, is to be the first one in line when the new Michael Kors bag comes out. Or be the first to cop the newest Louboutins. You don’t have any get up and go about yourself, and I want more in my woman. I wanna be able to help her with her dreams and hold decent conversations with her."