A Hustler's Wife Read online

  A Hustler's Wife

  Nikki Turner

  Triple Crown Publications (2011)

  Rating: *****

  * * *

  A Hustler's Wife

  Nikki Turner

  This is a work of fiction. The authors have invented the characters.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coinci-dental.

  If you have purchased this book with a 'dull' or missing cover---You have possibly purchased an unauthorized or stolen book. Please immediately contact the publisher advising where, when and how you purchased this book.

  Compilation and Introduction copyright (c) 2003 by Triple Crown Publications

  2959 Stelzer Rd., Suite C

  Columbus, Ohio 43219

  www.TripleCrownPublications.com Library of Congress Control Number: 2003101780

  ISBN# 0-9702472-5-7

  Author: Nikki Turner

  Editor: Joylynn Jossel

  Production: Kevin J. Calloway

  Consulting: Shannon Holmes & Vickie M. Stringer Copyright (c) 2003 by Nikki Turner. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the author, except by reviewer who may quote brief passages to be printed in a newspaper or magazine.

  Second Edition printed August 2003

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3

  Printed in the United States of America

  This book is dedicated to:

  The mother beyond all other mothers, Ms. Denise Turner

  No matter how little or much you had to give, You always gave all of you

  Thanks for loving me unconditionally!!

  My Mentor and devoted friend, Ms. Deaudrey Hunter

  Your encouragement means more than any word could ever express

  Thanks for being my inspiration!!!

  IN LOVING MEMORY OF

  A few of you were old and had lived life to the fullest, while some of you were young and hadn't seen what life had to offer. A couple had an awful illness, though most of you fell victim to the streets, and a few of you were just at the wrong place at the wrong time. But each and every one of you added a smile to my world at one time or another. For some, it's only been months since you left, others it's been years, and for a few it's been decades. I think of each of you often, and you may be gone but surely you're not forgotten.

  MILTON SCOTT, ESTHER TURNER, NATHANIEL TOLBERT, BERTHA, RANDOLPH, ALFRED GEE-EL, SAPHONYA WOOLRIDGE, KEVIN

  WALLACE, THOMAS RANDOLPH, DORIS FOOTMAN, HARROLD

  "MANNY" WOOLRIDGE, INDIA MORTON, ARTHUR "MAINE" TOWES, KEVIN GRANT, DOMINIQUE BASSETT, CHARLIE CONE

  (FROM JACKSON WARD), DEBRA "POOKIE" CREWS, TONETTE

  "TONI" SNEAD, BUSY BEE (FROM 4TH AVE), NEW YORK CHUCK, BATTLE, MARY PRINCE, CLAYTON BROWN, RODNEY CLANTON, BARRY KEMP, LIL WILLIE (FROM THE WEST END, JULIUS LOGAN, THAERON BASSETT, SNEAK, RAKIE CLOYD, KEVIN-HEAD 44, KEVIN-BLUE ROCKY, LIL MONEY, BLUE JUICE(FROM JACKSON

  WARD), K.K. (FROM MOSBY)

  Acknowledgements

  First and foremost, I must give honor to God from whom all blessings flow. It is through faith and believing in Him, that I have found a deep satisfying peace as a writer. I am truly blessed to be able to live out my dream and to have an overflow of favor and especially a large cast of ardent supporters. They have all left footprints on my heart.

  To my two biggest fans, Timmond and Kennisha, thanks for your patience while mommy wrote this book. I love you more than life itself. To my mother, Denise Turner, I am thankful for you always being there whenever I truly needed you, for sacrificing so much for so many years, and for taking on the role as mother and father. Take my love and multiply it by infinity and that's how much I love you. To my grandmother, Margaret Scott, thanks for your wisdom and the support you gave me to live through my own triumphs and tragedies.

  To my team who cheered me on and believed in this book as if it was your own, all who have been my foundation long before I ever considered this book. My friend and guardian angel on Earth, DeAudrey Hunter, believed in me before I even wrote one sentence, daily pushing me on to the finish line. Angela Yvonne Davis, a.k.a. "A.D.", jumped into character whenever I needed you to, but your most award winning, outstanding role would be the role of best friend. Abdullah Black, my brother, my friend, I am eternally grateful for your undying concern and support. You go beyond the call of duty. Shauntayne Mccoy, for unconditional friendship, and encouragement. Tanisha Washington, and Dedria Battle for having my back no matter how far fetched my dreams were. Deva Plaskette, because you understand. My uncle Andre for believing, inspiring and following up.

  Eternal love to my Triple Crown family, Vickie my sister, friend, for the hype you gave me long before you even read one sentence, the opportunity to excel in this game, and showing me it truly gets greater later, K'wan, my Clyde, and my brother who seen the shine in me from day 1, my friend, Shannon, the O.G. to this hip-hop fiction, thanks for your faith, knowledge and wisdom. Joy, for your keen eyes, embracing my project as if it was your own and making it airtight. I love you TCP!

  To my technical team, Sandra West, Thomas (Mustafa) Martin, for diligently polishing this novel, Jadi Keambirorio for your input in the first face, and Joylynn Jossel & Angie, for putting the final buff and polish, gotta love y'all! My guys over at Uniquest Designs, for my banging cover design. I've gotta send much love your way! Mr. Tariq, for holding my hand the whole time. Bo, for the concept and design on the knockout cover, Dafina Lovelace, many thanks for your legs and hands on the cover. Keith Witherspoon, playing doctor to "Billie Jean," my computer.

  I'd like to express my gratitude to my family for the love of my children and myself over the years. My biological father, Acra, thanks for giving me breath and my name, love ya pops. My stepfathers, Balldey and Jeff, thanks. Uncle Gregory Givens, for believing and encouraging, Aunt Bren, for challenging me to get it on book shelves...here it is! Alice Burrell, Margaret Jeffrie, and Iretta King, embracing me as one of your own.

  Jhamoul Dean, giving me ultimate gift... Kennisha. Robert,

  "Bobby" Bullock, for being my Prince Charming when I needed a knight in shining Armour. Eric Lundy, for holding Craig Carthorne Robinson, thanks for inspiration, strength, and unconditional love me afloat with moral support when I thought I was drowning. Herbert Halloway, and Claudie Rhodes thanks for your open mind, heart and tons of input and info. To Raquel Byrd, Lisa Dorsey, Stanford "Peter Weet" Dorsey, Butch Lewis, Nicey Butler, "YBC" Yvonne Chesdon, DeWayne Parham, Gloria Williams, Sallie P.Moore, Tammy Taylor offering your faithful friendship, love and understanding. Ayanna Spurlock-Shackleton, Mary Carter, Seaquanna Smith, Rhoda and Richard Fordham, Isaac Wright, and my X-co workers at the MEPS for all the laughs and compassion. Laura Beaton for my journal in 7th grade, look where it got me! Randy Adams, Mr. Lambert, and Gus Nikiforos for seeing the vision in face 1.

  Special thanks to my fashion squad, Ebony at DMJ, tightest flat twist in RIC, my seamstresses, Deneen and Avis, Patricia Gray, always fitting me in at the last minute and laying my braids down, Keondra, for laying my hair Angelina make-up, photographer, Todd Jagers, CI Photo Studio, thank you, thank you, thank you!

  Next, I'd like to send bountiful blessings and thanks to the people in my life who were able to offer me undying support, because they knew first hand the feeling of having a vision and wanting so badly to bring it into existence. The multi-talented Joanne Jefferson "Jo Chansler," blessings come in countless forms and you have been a one of mine. Donmashade and Boog for my song, Tyrelle "Big Wig and Big Khat of Go Hard Productions, and Bay-Bay with your movie, "Girl's in the Game.

  Cha of WHY? Ent. and GMAC, thanks for the contacts. To anybody else with goals and aspirations; dreams do come true, just have faith. To all the single moms, "I" p
ersonally know your struggle. I know it gets rough, but remember some of the most remarkable people were raised by the strength and shoulders of single mothers. To all of Richmond's OGs, on lockdown, the streets of RIC will never be the same without you, anybody else behind prison walls or may have family members who I may or may not know, no storm can last forever!!

  To every person in my hometown, Richmond, VA, thanks for taking a part in the manifestation of this book. It all started here and you blew me up, before I even hit the bookshelves and for that I am eternally grateful. To all the businesses who agreed to book signing before I even finished the book. Oodles of thanks to you too. Hermeione, One Force Books, Carla, Readers Choice in Milwaukee, thanks! Much Respect to Donald Goines, Iceberg Slim, Sister Souljah who has definitely paved the way for writers such as myself with a ghetto, urban story to tell.

  Then I owe a heartfelt of thanks to you, the readers. I love you from the depths of my heart, without you none of this would be possible. And to anyone who's name is not mentioned here, and you know you made a positive contribution to this book or my life in general. I'd like to thank you too, and I'll get you on the next one.

  Last, but not least, no need for names but to those who never believed, doubted or talked about me when you should have been praying for me. I am going to continue to keep you in my prayers.BE BLESSED,

  Nikki T

  A THOUGHT FOR THE READER

  I was questioned about the message that I send out in this novel and the way this story is told. This story is told for the lost, the confused, the weary, the bewildered and the broken hearted. I am certain many can relate to this tale. And for those who can't, I hope I've painted the picture vividly enough so that you, too, can feel the struggle. Through the pages of this story, you will definitely begin to understand the ups and downs, the eternal bliss as well as the darkest plights, of being "A Hustler's Wife".

  -Nikki Turner-

  MOMMA DIDN'T SAY THERE'D

  BE DAYS LIKE THIS

  Yarni sat stunned on the cold, mahogany courtroom bench. She couldn't believe the verdict of guilty. The high profile court case of her notorious, kingpin boyfriend, Des, ended in the worst possible outcome. After seeing the expression of defeat and frustration on Des's face, Yarni broke down in tears as numbness ran through her entire body. Her mind raced frantically as she reflected on what seemed like her life crumbling in front of her eyes.

  The trouble began when she returned from Los Angeles. Des paid for her to fly from Richmond, Virginia, to California to shop for her prom dress and accessories. For some reason, she could not get into the shopping spree that led from Saks, to Bloomingdales, to boutique shops. Yarni had a bad migraine and a weak stomach the entire time. Des's Mother, Joyce, accompanied her as a favor to her son, though it was no secret that she could not stand Yarni. Joyce felt the girl was entirely too young for her son. She did not like the hold Yarni had over Des and she couldn't understand why he loved Yarni so much. She knew if anything ever happened to Des, Yarni would be gone as fast as a speeding bullet.

  Joyce had a lot of style and class, which is why Des asked for her help. If anybody could put an elegant ensemble together, she could. Joyce was a big-boned dark skinned lady that wore her hair in a flipped under mushroom style. She had a big and nasty shaped butt, the kind of butt that one could sit a drink on. She was shortchanged in the breast area with a chest as flat as an ironing board. She drank lots of coffee so her teeth had stains on them. She wore large EK lizard print frames. With her jewelry, she resembled the female version of Mr. T.

  Yarni thought she was feeling pukey because Joyce was up close and personal with her. Joyce made Yarni extremely uncomfortable. She was always in her space. The two of them kept their distance, even on this too close shopping spree coordinated by the one man who loved them both. Des wanted more than anything for the two of them to get along. Yarni counted the hours until she returned home, away from Joyce's rolling eyes, and back into Des' loving arms.

  With the most beautiful prom-wear money could buy, the mission was accomplished! Yarni was back into the comfort of her home and settling into the usual domestic lull after being away for the past four days. Upon entering her home, it was most obvious that Des had not attempted any housework.

  Yarni stood at the entrance of the kitchen. Watermelon decor was everywhere, which was a sure sign she was home. Yarni smiled when she glanced at the watermelon calendar hanging on the refrigerator next to the watermelon magnet with her and Des' photo in it. They had taken the picture at the Virginia State Fair.

  Yarni was happy to see that Des had circled the appropriate day on the calendar and wrote, "Wifey Returns".

  Upon learning that his baby was back in town, Des returned home. With roses in hand, Des greeted Yarni, who he had missed being next to, with a passionate kiss. Later Yarni treated Des to his very own private fashion show of which she modeled her beautiful prom gown. They spent the remainder of the night holding one another, making up for the past few nights they had spent apart.

  Yarni fluttered around her watermelon themed kitchen, putting a load of underclothes in the washer while humming, "At least we're lucky we got em, Gooood Timmes eeehhh," to the end of the theme song. To catch up with the local news, she changed the channel on the 13 inch television sitting on top of the refrigerator. The six o'clock news began with the voice of the anchorwoman.

  "Covering the news where you live, this is News Six. Lolita Moore joins us from the city's south side with today's latest groundbreaking news."

  "This is Lolita Moore reporting live from Midlothian Turnpike. This car wash behind me," she turned with index cards in hand and points, "is the crime scene of the city's latest homi-cide. A man was shot and killed execution style while getting his car, a 1985 Cadillac Sedan DeVille, washed. The suspect fled on a sports motorcycle and was reportedly wearing all black. The victim has been identified as Roy Jasper. Authorities are questioning members of the alleged "233 MOB".

  Yarni sprinted over to the television knocking the watermelon motif statue off of the wall to turn up the volume. She stood all ears, eyes and in pure disbelief.

  "Yeah, I knew Roy real well," a Jheri Curl-wearing bystander spoke at the scene into the camera. "I knew he had a contract out on one of the '233' boys, so they probably did this." With that powder keg on-street interview under her belt, Lolita Moore smiled, "This is believed to be drug and gang related. Stay tuned. We will be updating you with further information as it becomes available to us. Back to you Julia" Yarni ran over to the red and black lip shaped telephone in their living room and dialed Des' pager number. She gazed at a photo pasted inside the lips of the phone as she waited for the three beeps. She anxiously punched the keys 266-9999 plus 000. This was an emergency.

  As the time on the digital clocked changed, Yarni questioned where Des could possibly be. He usually called right back. Yarni paced the floor. She reflected over words her girlfriend, Melanie, had planted in her mind weeks before:

  "Girl, I am only telling you this because you are my home-girl and I want you to be aware of the word in the streets. This dude Roy put a contract out on Des because he owed Des $60,000 that he lost tricking and getting high with some freaks.

  He figured Des was going to try to kill him, so Roy put out a $15,000 contract on Des. He didn't have the heart to kill him himself. He knew Des wouldn't have any type of understanding about his money being short. Everybody knows Des don't take partial payments. Roy tried to hire this guy name Smoke, who got his name and reputation from his ashy complexion and doing murder for hires. It just so happened that Smoke had a lot of respect for Des, so he went and told him. And I heard that Des gave Smoke $10,000 for the valuable information." Tears formed in Yarni's eyes, how could this be? She sat down on the oversized black leather sectional sofa staring at the phone wishing it would ring. We were just together all morning and afternoon. We were in Aunt Sarah's Pancake House eating chicken and pancakes when this occurred, so I know for a fact Des couldn
't have anything to do with this. He never left my side for a minute. Why they gotta be messing with him?

  Meanwhile Across Town On the City's South Side: Des is kneeling down on the ground watching the dice like a hawk. Everyone is quiet while waiting to see where the dice fall.

  When all of a sudden the loud Beep! Beep! Beep! Interrupts the game. Des looked at his pager in panic 000? In the whole two years we've been together she's never used the emergency code.

  What the hell is going on?

  "Yo Slim come on," Des called out to his right hand man, as he jumped into his gray 1985 Turbo Diesel 300 Mercedes Benz, almost forgetting to pick his money up off the ground that he had just bet with. "Something ain't right man, Yarni just paged me with our emergency code. She's never used that code the whole two years I've been with her." He unzipped the bag that enclosed his cellular phone. Heart pounding as he dialed he spoke to Slim in a disgruntled tone, "Yo, if something happened to my wife it's going to be a bunch of dead bodies, man, I'm telling you." The phone didn't sound a complete ring.

  "Hello," Yarni's sweet voice managed, not trying to muffle the fact that she had been crying every since she heard the news report.

  "Baby Girl, what's wrong? Talk to me, baby," Des replied worried.

  "I need you to come home right now, I've got to talk to you, it's extremely important."

  "I'm on the way. You alright?" Des said.

  "Yeah, I just need you here, that's all," Yarni replied.

  "Anybody there with you? Just say Yes or No."

  "No, Baby. It isn't what you think. Now please just come home!"

  "I'll be there in less than 15 minutes"

  "O.K., I love you, baby."

  "I love you too, Baby Girl."

  Des pushed the accelerator to the floor, doing 100 mph in a 55 mph zone, weaving in and out of traffic on 95 North. Des almost missed his exit to 64 West where he just about caused a Volvo to hit a Mustang. The Volvo driver honked the horn at him as he stuck his middle finger up in the rear view mirror. He was listening to the "Paid n' Full" cassette in his Alpine tape deck. He sung along with Rakim, "I ain't no joke, I used to let the mic smoke. So, I slam it when I'm done and make sure it's broke." He turned down the music and looked at Slim who was bopping his head to the beat.