The Real Hoodwives of Detroit 2

by INDIA

Genres: Women's Fiction

Synopsis

What up, doe! Welcome back to the mean streets of Detroit. With all the drama going down in Motown, I knew your nosy self couldn't stay away. Don't worry, you haven't missed a thing. We pick up the story right where we left off in The Real Hoodwives of Detroit part one. If you thought your first visit to the Motor City was crazy, you ain't seen nothing yet. Nikki, Gucci, and Chloe have been waiting for you, and boy do they have some fire!
Lies have been told, relationships have been tested, and these women are out for blood. The heat amongst this group is real. This ain't no television show. No one sits in a director's chair and yells, "cut!" This drama is official. This is how the real, raw, and certified hoodwives from the Dirty Glove get down. We don't bump our gums; instead, we let our pistols do the talking. The way we live ain't for the weak-hearted. Where we come from, it's survival of the fittest, and only the strong survive.
Scared? You should be. Welcome back to Detroit for round two!

Release date: May 25, 2021

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

I’d arrived home at around 4:00 a.m., and Mario was nowhere to be found. He hadn’t called me since he left earlier, and I didn’t bother calling his bitch ass because I was tired of fighting with him. Wherever he was he could stay for all I cared. I was extremely exhausted, and the alone time was just what the doctor ordered. Not dancing at the club in a long time really took a toll on my aching body. Muscles hurt in places that I never knew existed, and all I wanted was sleep.

As I reached the top step, I removed all of my clothing, leaving it right where it fell. I dragged myself into the bathroom and cut on the shower. All in all, I was in and out in seven minutes flat. I guess you could say I took a “ho bath.” Without bothering to dry off or find a nightgown, I entered my bedroom prepared to fall out. Just as my head hit the silk pillow, the damn doorbell chimed. Immediately, I reached into my nightstand and grabbed the Glock. I thought it might’ve been Mario ringing the bell because he lost his keys, but I wasn’t one for taking chances.

“Who the fuck is it?” I called out with much attitude.

“It’s me,” the stranger said.

I could see a male figure through the frosted glass, but he was too tall to be my husband. I checked to make sure the safety on the gun was off. Just in case a nigga kicked in the door, I’d be prepared. “Who the fuck is ‘me’? Nigga, you better state your name!” I said from behind the door. I kicked myself for not checking the surveillance camera, but I was too tired to go all the way back upstairs.

“It’s Cartier.”

“Who?” I asked in disbelief.

“Gucci, you heard me.”

I snatched open the door with my gun aimed at his chest. “I should blow your chest out just for pulling a dumb-ass stunt like this,” I yelled because I was pissed. “What if Mario was home?”

“I’m sorry. I just had to see you.” The alcohol on his breath and the look on his face told it all. He was tipsy.

“What do you want?” I asked with my arms folded. The way he was staring at me reminded me that I was completely naked.

“I want you.” He stepped up close to me, and I backed away.

“Look, you’re drunk. Let me call you a cab.” I backed away and tried to make it to the phone in the kitchen, but he picked me up.

“I got a little buzzed, but I’m not wasted. I know what I want, and I came to get it.” He licked his sexy-ass lips. “I don’t care what your new last name is. You will always be my bitch!”

“Cartier—” I tried to say, but he kept talking.

“That nigga Mario ain’t what you want, and you know that. You only fell for the nigga because I wasn’t here,” he whispered while carrying me over to the marble dinner table. Then he laid me down. “I’m here, Gucci, and from this point forward, I’m not going anywhere.”

I stared into his eyes, and every feeling or freaky thought I’d had over the past two months came rushing back all at once. “I can’t do this to Mario.”

“You don’t have to do nothing. Let me do it all.” He went to work pleasing my body with his hands, his mouth, and ultimately his penis.

Cartier took me to places I could’ve only dreamed of. Mario didn’t lack any bedroom skills, but he wasn’t connected with me emotionally. No matter how freaky our sex was, it was lacking passion. Cartier, on the other hand, connected with me physically, mentally, and emotionally. I was in pure ecstasy, and in that moment, I felt like the old Gucci.

“Gucci, where are you?”

I heard my name, and my eyes snapped open. Like a true hood nigga, Cartier reached for my gun and pointed it in the direction of the voice.

“Who is that?” he whispered.

“That’s my friend Mina.” I jumped up from the table. I couldn’t let her catch me like this, so I flew from the dining room and left Cartier in the darkness.

“I’m right here, girl. Wassup?” I tried to cover my parts.

“How did you get in here?”

“The door was open.” She pointed to the door, and I caught sight of her bloody hand. “Put your clothes on. We have to go now,” she said with panic all over her face.

“Why?” I worried.

“Mario just got shot.”

“You slut. I didn’t know you had it in you,” Anjela teased after I told her about me and Mario. Before I could tell her about Maine, my line clicked.

“Hold on, cuz.” I looked at the caller ID and frowned. It said unavailable.

“Hello,” I answered with much attitude.

“Is Nikkita Wallace available?” a woman asked.

“Who the fuck is this?” I knew this broad knew better than to play on my phone.

“Nikkita, my name is Jasmine Stevens. I’m an RN here at Henry Ford Hospital. Your husband, Mario Wallace, was brought in and taken to surgery about an hour ago. You were listed as his next of kin.” She continued talking, but I zoned out. “Hello?”

“I’m sorry. What was my husband brought in for?” I asked, completely forgetting that I was no longer his wife. Mario must’ve never updated his medical information.

“Due to HIPAA regulations, I can’t give you that information. If you come down here with your identification, someone will speak with you, Mrs. Wallace.”

“I’m on the way!” Running to my shoes, I hung up the phone, completely forgetting about Anjela on the other end.

My cell phone rang again. “Hello.” I was out of breath.

“Damn, cuz, what happened?”

“Meet me at Henry Ford. Mario is in surgery.” I hung up on her again and called Mario’s mother. Just as I located my black and pink Nike gym shoes sitting by the front door, Ms. C answered.

“Hey, baby.”

“Ms. C,” I sighed, finally spotting my keys and purse. “Henry Ford Hospital just called. Mario is in surgery.”

“What?” She was in a full-fledged panic now.

“They won’t tell me why until I get there, but I think he has been shot.” I knew the way Mario lived his life in the streets, so being shot would be the only logical reason he would be at the hospital in surgery.

“Oh, my God.” She began to cry.

“Mama, please calm down. I’m on my way to get you.”

I pulled into the driveway and stepped from the whip. It was raining cats and dogs, but I didn’t worry myself with an umbrella. Ms. C approached the doorway in a tan robe, jogging pants, and Ugg boots. She had Junior with her, and Maria was in her car seat. I took the baby so that she could lock up the house. Going against the grain, I pulled out my cell phone and called Gucci. Regardless of my ill feelings, she deserved to know about her husband.

Her voicemail came on. “You know who you’ve reached, so leave a message.”

“Gucci, this is Nikki. I’m not sure if you know, but Mario is in surgery at Henry Ford Hospital. I don’t know any more than what I’m telling you, so there is no need to call me back. Just get to the hospital as soon as you get this. By the way, Ms. C and Maria are with me.” I ended the call.

“Nikki, do you think my baby will be okay?” Ms. C was on the verge of passing out.

“Mama, Mario is a fighter!” I reassured her as she began to pray all the way to the hospital.

As I sped into the driveway of the emergency entrance, an ambulance was speeding out. I damn near sideswiped it, but luckily I missed them by about three inches. My nerves were shot, but I had to keep it together. I let Ms. C out and went to park the car. Her nerves were shaky, and I didn’t want her to drop Maria or lose Junior, so I kept the kids with me.

Just as I entered the lobby and approached the nurse’s desk, Ms. C found me. “We have to go up to the third floor.” We briskly walked over to the elevator, and I shifted the weight of Maria’s car seat from one arm to the other.

I looked down at the little girl. Her tiny fingers found their way to her mouth, and she licked them. This was my first time seeing her so close. I had to admit that she was simply beautiful. Her jet-black hair was curly, and she had a bow in the center of her head like Pebbles from The Flintstones. Her golden skin looked like cornflakes, and the dimple at the bottom of her chin was priceless.

As we stepped onto the elevator, someone called out, “Wait up.” It was my cousin.

“Did y’all find out anything yet?” She bent down and picked up Junior. I shook my head, while Claudia said nothing.

“Can I help you ladies?” a redheaded unit clerk asked as we stepped from the elevator and approached her.

“We’re looking for Mario Wallace. Is he still in surgery?” I asked. She punched a few buttons on the computer and looked at me.

“Actually, he was just placed in a room. If you would like to go and see him, you can.” She smiled and I exhaled. Nothing in her voice was alarming.

“Well, I’ll let his mom go first.” I patted Ms. C on the back.

“No, Nikki, you go first,” she urged. “I don’t want to see him if he is messed up. You go first, and let me know what I’m in for.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, and she nodded and took Maria. The clerk asked for my identification, then provided me with a visitor’s badge and the room number.

Upon entering the dark room, I felt sick to my stomach. Ever since being shot and being in a coma for seven months, I’d dreaded hospitals. Other than the beeping of a machine, the room was silent. I tiptoed over to the curtain to pull it back and jumped from my skin.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Mario asked after hanging up his cell phone.

“Damn, I didn’t expect you to be up.” I grabbed my heart. “Honestly, I didn’t know what to expect.” I wanted to slap his arm but thought against it. The only visible indication of a wound was white gauze wrapped around his head.

“You thought a nigga was dead, didn’t you?” He smiled.

“Something like that.” I smiled back. “Let me go and get your mother before she has a heart attack.” I turned.

“Nah. Let me holla at you right quick.” He caught my arm. I took a seat next to the hospital bed.

“What the hell happened to you?” I wanted to know.

“Got into some shit with that bitch-ass nigga you been fuckin’.” He grimaced.

“Maine did this to you?” I needed clarification.

“Something like that, but don’t worry. I got him too.” Mario smiled.

“Got him? What do you mean, Mario?” I paced the floor.

“Look, ma, chill. It doesn’t concern you, so relax.”

“How can I relax, Rio? You’re laid up in this bed, and that nigga could be dead.” I shook my head on the verge of tears.

“Well, I’m good, as you can see, so there ain’t no need crying for me. And I better not see you shed one tear for that bitch-ass nigga,” he threatened.

“Oh, my God, I can’t believe this has happened!”

“I’m sorry, baby,” Mario apologized. “Please forgive me.”

“Rio, you have nothing to be sorry for.” I shook my head.

“I’m just apologizing for everything. If I had kept my bond tight with you, we wouldn’t be here right now.” He spoke of our plans to retire last year before things went astray.

“Ain’t nothing we can do about that now,” I said softly.

“Nik, I need you. I don’t want nobody else.” He rubbed my ass. “Pregnancy does a body good.” He laughed and I snatched back.

“Ain’t nobody pregnant.” I closed my blazer.

“Bullshit! I know when you’re pregnant, Nik.” He laughed again. “Never thought you would be having another nigga’s baby though.”

I swallowed hard because there was no way I was keeping this child. How could I?

“Mario, you’re bleeding.” I immediately placed pressure on the wound. He removed his hospital gown and balled it up to soak up the blood. “Is this from the surgery?”

“I didn’t get a chance to have the surgery, actually,” he explained. “When we got in there, the doctors thought it would be best if I made my own decision before the operation. They closed me up and sent me to recovery. When the meds wore off, they came to ask me what I wanted to do.”

“What? Who in the hell stops saving a person’s life just to ask their permission?” I was stunned.

“I was shot in my head, Nikki.” He looked at me seriously. “They said the bullet is partially lodged into my brain. If they remove it, there is a possibility I may go brain-dead.”

“Oh, my God! Are you serious?” I felt my knees wobble. “What happens if you leave the bullet in there?” I hated to ask the question but needed to know the answer.

“If I don’t have the bullet removed, it may slip deeper into my brain over time. Either way, the shit doesn’t look good.” Mario shook his head.

“I’m looking for Mario Wallace,” I told the receptionist.

“And you are?”

“Gucci Wallace, his wife.” I watched as she scanned the computer screen.

“Ma’am, our records indicate that Mario is in recovery with his wife, Nikkita.” She stared at me.

“Which room?” I asked with attitude. Here I was worried sick and feeling guilty about my rendezvous with Cartier while riding down here with Sam and Mina, and this nigga had actually called Nikki in his time of need instead of me.

“Calm down, and wait over there with the other family members. When his wife comes out, we will ask her if you can go back there.”

“Bitch!” I hit the desk. “I am his goddamned wife.”

“Do I need to call security?” She picked up the phone.

“Whatever!” I snapped and walked past her toward Ms. C. “What room is Mario in?”

“306,” was all she said.

Upon entering Mario’s room, I could hear him talking to Nikki, so I paused to eavesdrop on the conversation.

“Do you still love me, Nikki?”

I was caught off guard by his question and swallowed hard.

“I realized that I fucked up by marrying her, and I’m sorry, baby.”

“Mario, it’s a little too late for me and you, don’t you think?” Nikki sighed.

I rolled my eyes because I was tired of this conversation already.

“I only married her because I was confused.”

“Confused about what?” Nikki asked.

I wanted to know too, because in my opinion there was absolutely nothing to be confused about.

“Gucci had been by my side when you were laid up those months in the hospital. Eventually, we slept together, and I thought I was beginning to have feelings for her. After she got pregnant, I thought I owed her, and I put a ring on her finger.” He sighed.

“Okay, I get that! You thought I was dying, so what the hell, right? But what I don’t get is why you still married her after I woke up from that coma.” Nikki shifted from one leg to the other.

“Because you said that you didn’t want me back!” He raised his voice. “What was I supposed to do?”

“You were supposed to be a motherfucking man and fight for what was yours!”

“I’m doing that now,” Mario replied. “I love you with every fiber of my being. I don’t like the man I am without you. Please say you’ll take me back.”

“Look, your wife is probably somewhere worried sick about you. Let me give her another call so that she can be here with you.” Nikki was about to walk away, but Mario grabbed her hand.

“Nikkita, you will always be my wife. From now until eternity. Don’t you remember the vow?” He tried to stand from the bed.

“I will always remember our vow! You were the one who forgot,” she cried, and he pulled her in for a passionate kiss.

I bit down hard on my bottom lip as he continued.

“I love you and I want you back. I’m going crazy without you, baby.” He slid his hand up her shirt and caressed her breast. “Please take me back, baby. I need you by my side,” he begged like some bitch, and she stood still. “Nik, say something,” he whispered.

“What about Gucci? She loves you just as much as I do.”

“I love her . . .” he started, and I put my head down because I felt a “but” coming. “But I’m not in love with her. I’m in love with you, and I’m ready to come home.”

“You love me in spite of this?” She lifted her shirt, and I could’ve sworn I saw a baby bump.

Mario sighed, then placed his hand over her belly. “I love everything about you, and a baby won’t change that. All you have to say is, ‘Mario, I take you back.’”

Oh, hell no! I rolled my eyes because it was time to break this shit up.

“Mario, I love you, and I’m willing to take you back.” Nikki kissed him like some scene from a movie.

“Just like that it’s over, huh?” I stepped out of the shadows into the light.

“G,” Mario called out.

“Fuck you and that raggedy bitch! If you couldn’t love me the way I loved you, then you should’ve left my ass alone.” I was pissed. “FYI, motherfucker, I just fucked Cartier in our house on our dining room table, and the shit was good!”

At first, the correction officer was skeptical when I suggested that Lovely should be transported to the hospital. Still believing that I was Sister Mary, she told me that prayer, not a pregnant woman, was my line of work. But after divine intervention kicked in and Lovely’s water really broke, we were on our way in no time. Of course, Lovely was cuffed at the wrists and on one ankle. Two officers rode in the ambulance with us, and I held her hand every step of the way.

Just as we arrived at the hospital, I caught a glimpse of Nikki pulling up and barely missing the ambulance we were in. This had to be my lucky day, and I could hardly contain myself. Honestly, what were the chances of running into her at a hospital of all places? As we stepped from the ambulance, I started to walk in Nikki’s direction.

“Sister Mary, please don’t leave me.” Lovely tried to reach for my arm. I could tell that she was scared, but plans had changed.

“I will be back for you,” I whispered. Truth be told, I wasn’t thinking about her at this moment. I needed to make a break for it before the WVC figured out I pulled a switcheroo with the nun and called the officers here to detain me. I needed to find some cash, change my attire, and make a break for it.

Quietly I looked around the waiting room. There was an older white couple in the corner, and a man standing up against the wall, talking on a cell phone. I also noticed a young woman off in the corner. She was knocked out cold with her mouth open wide. The woman was snoring so loudly that no one had chosen to sit by her, which was perfect for me. Her purse was at her side and mine for the taking. Like a thief in the night, I snatched the purse and was out. The nun costume was really working for me, because no one even raised an eyebrow. I stepped outside and fumbled through the knock-off Coach bag, desperate to find a cell phone, money, and car keys.

“Fuck Nikki and that lying-ass nigga!” I heard someone say, and I put my head down. After years of being in Nikki’s circle, I would know Gucci’s voice anywhere.

“Calm down, Gucci. Let us take you home. I can’t have you out here all upset,” Sam consoled her.

I was so excited to see him that I almost peed myself. This day was getting better and better. I silently followed the threesome into the visitors’ parking lot and prayed the keys I’d just found belonged to a car over there. Without transportation I was shit out of luck.

Chirp. The horn of a Dodge Avenger went off, indicating that my ride had been found. Everyone was so busy calming Gucci down they didn’t notice little old me.

I was pissed off and Mario knew it. I would’ve taken a cab home, but Sam and Mina insisted on dropping me off. I’d taken Maria with me. As soon as I walked through the door, I remembered that I never activated my alarm system because Cartier was there. Originally I hoped that he would get the hint and leave. The last thing I needed was to get caught with another nigga in my house, but fuck it.

“How is this nigga gon’ try to play me like some hood rat?” I cried into my cell phone to Satin, who was barely giving a shit. “If he didn’t want me, all he had to do was keep it moving.” I placed Maria into her crib and went into the bathroom.

“Gucci, I hate to say I told you so, but I did! You never should’ve slept with him from the beginning.” Her voice boomed through my speakerphone.

“I didn’t beg the nigga to fuck me, nor did I ask him to get me pregnant or marry me!” I said. Walking into the walk-in closet, I missed half of what she was saying to me because I was on a mission. I grabbed an armful of his custom suits and ties and came back into the bathroom.

“Gucci, did you hear me?” she called out.

“My bad. What did you say?” I threw the clothes into the tub and reached under the cabinet for the bleach. Twisting the cap, I poured the chemical all over the Valentino, Armani, and Versace custom pieces.

“It doesn’t matter because you ain’t trying to hear what I’m saying anyway.” She smacked her lips.

“You’re right! I’ll get at you tomorrow.” I hung the phone up and went back into the closet. Satin was my girl, but she’d been against me and Mario since day one. I didn’t know why I called her anyway.

Reaching onto the wooden shelving, I grabbed several pairs of shoes along with a few pieces of jewelry and headed downstairs. On my way outside, I heard my phone ring, but I figured it was Satin trying to check me for hanging up on her, so I paid it no mind. I slid the patio door back and walked across the deck toward the hot tub. Leaning over the water, I dropped all of the items in and watched them splash. I smiled as the Rolex, Cartier, and Movado watches sank to the bottom. Stepping back into the house for round three, I dashed up the stairs.

“What the fuck did that nigga do to deserve this?” a voice behind me called out, and I nearly passed out in the hallway.

I swung around and came face-to-face with Maine. “What are you doing here?” I backed up.

“Lovely’s trial starts in three days, and Mario ain’t did shit. I guess he don’t value his chick the way I value mine, and that’s unfortunate for you.” He pointed a gloved finger at me. I wasn’t book smart, but I knew enough hood shit to know a gloved intruder wasn’t a good thing.

“What you want me for? Nikkita is his prized possession. Didn’t you know that?” I smacked my lips.

“Unfortunately for you, Nikki wasn’t home, so I’m taking your ass for insurance!”

“Kidnapping me doesn’t ensure Meechie won’t show up for court,” I said honestly. The Feds would have him in court come hell or high water.

“Well, that’s a chance I’m willing to take.” He pulled a 9 mm handgun from his waistband. Instantly, my mind raced as I thought about what was going down. For once in my life, I felt scared and helpless. Not only was shit about to get real, but my daughter was also in the next room.

“Look, there’s another way around this.” I raised my hands in surrender.

Shaking his head, my assailant began to speak. “Ain’t no other way, Gucci. I need my girl back! Mario has to deliver Meechie to me personally if he really wants you to live.”

I was scared as hell on the inside, but I refused to let a tear shed. I knew Mario would come after me, but I wasn’t confident that he would or even could deliver his mom’s brother to this man. “Can I at least kiss my baby before I leave?”

“Five seconds and don’t get cute.” He followed me into Maria’s room.

Staring at my precious daughter, I prayed I would see her again one day, hopefully in heaven if not in the flesh. Once I left with this stranger, the chance of me returning was slim. Not only had I seen his face and could identify him, but things also just didn’t work like that out here in the streets.

“Hurry the fuck up!” he barked, and Maria jumped in her sleep but didn’t fully wake up.

Leaning down to kiss my baby girl, I remembered there was a 9 mm on the top shelf of her closet in case of an emergency such as this. “Can I put an extra blanket on her please?”

“Bitch, hurry up!” he yelled, and I moved slowly to the closet. I stretched my arm and tried to feel for the gun, which caused it to fall to the ground.

Bam! He pistol-whipped me, and I fell to the floor. “I told you not to be cute.”

As I followed Sam’s vehicle, my thoughts went back to Lovely. I had no intentions of returning to the hospital, so I pulled out the stolen cell phone and dialed the number she’d given me days ago.

“Who is this?” a male’s voice boomed.

“No need for names. Just know that your girl has been delivered to Henry Ford Hospital. I got her out of prison, but it’s up to you to do the rest. You better get there fast before she has that baby and is taken back into custody.” Click. Silently, I prayed for my girl and hoped things worked out for her. I knew we would never see each other again, but I wished her well anyway.

Within half an hour, we had arrived at our destination. Sam punched in a code and entered the gate. I parked on the street and waited ten minutes before getting out of the car. The spacing on the wrought-iron gate was large enough for me to squeeze through, belly and all. With every step I took toward the lavish home, I could feel the fire in my veins. It was so hot that I was sweating. Creeping around to the back of the house, I searched for a window or door left open. Bingo! The kitchen window was cracked open about three inches. Calmly I walked onto the deck and slid over a few pieces of outdoor furniture. Once the stack was tall enough for me to hoist myself up to the window, I removed my shoes and stepped on it. It was a little wobbly, but it did the trick. Just like that, I was inside and one step closer to what I’d come for.

I scanned the gourmet kitchen, and a butcher knife resting on the wooden cutting board caught my attention. I didn’t have a gun, so this would have to do. There were no lights on, which was a gift and a curse. Mina wouldn’t be able to see me, but I couldn’t see her either.

“Looking for this?” Wham.

The bitch actually hit me in the back. I turned to see what her weapon of choice was and laughed when I noticed the frying pan. Thinking quickly, I dodged her next blow and sent one of my own to her thigh. The knife tore through her flesh, and blood squirted everywhere. Mina was startled but unstoppable as she came at me again with the cooking utensil.

“You crazy bitch! Just leave me alone.” She swung and caught me on the shoulder.

“Leave you alone?” I looked at her sideways. “You’re the one who stole my life.” I tried to stab her again, but she blocked me with the pan.

“It was never your life to begin with,” she countered.

I was tired of talking, so I jabbed the knife at her face and watched the skin on her cheek separate. The wound caused her to drop her weapon and reach for her face, giving me the advantage. I climbed on top of her, with my left hand around her neck and my right hand clutching the knife. I smiled as Mina gagged and fought for air. Desperately, she tried to reach for the frying pan, which was within an inch of her grasp.

“Chloe, stop!” Sam’s voice boomed from the entryway.

“Or what?” I rolled my eyes.

“I will kill you!” He stood trembling with a .38 in his hand. I looked down at Mina, who was practically dead anyway, and decided to turn my attention to Sam.

“Do it then.” I walked up to him and he backed away. “You ain’t shit but a pussy! Do it!” I yelled.

Bam! A blow to the back of my head made me stumble. I tried to grab on to the wall and hold myself up, but I slipped on Mina’s blood and hit the floor.

I came to just as I was being hoisted into the air on a stretcher. I looked down at my hands and ankles to see if I was cuffed. Thank goodness I wasn’t. An offic. . .