Authors: C. Stecko
“Miss. You have to give us more information. What was he wearing when you last saw him?”
I just dropped my head onto the desk. I was fightin’ a losin’ battle. “I told you before…”
“Hold please,” the officer interrupted.
Once again, I had been put on hold. I clenched my jaw tryna fight my crazed feelings. One thing after another was pissin’ me off. Then came a knock on my office door. “What is it?” I snapped.
“Uhhh…, I think you need to come to the door,” Cinnamon chimed.
I sat the phone down hopin’ no one would come back on the line while I ran to the door to see what Cinnamon felt was so important. She’d been actin’ different all mornin’, even a little distant; maybe because I told her she couldn’t borrow my damn pearls. Still, she picked up my drugs last night and helped me count up the profits before going to bed; all with a slight attitude, of course. A part of me was afraid, ’cause I didn’t know what to expect from her, or Tony for that matter. I had been alternatin’ the tone of my voice for days wonderin’ when Tony was listenin’. The fact that the spot was tapped still hadn’t hit me the way it should’ve. It was like livin’ in straight bondage. The slave Madam without the shackles, I told myself.
“I hope this is important!” I shouted as the door swung open.
My mouth dropped, then I closed the door just a little allowin’ only a small portion of my face to be seen. I knew I’d hit a nerve but the bitch didn’t deserve to frolic around in my office. She wore an expensive lookin’ pair of tan, linen
shorts with a v-neck see through shirt. She knew I loved jewelry so I bet she went out of her way to show up with the three layers of Chanel necklaces draped about her neck.
I kept eyein’ Sasha before I even spoke. I needed a minute to compare apples to apples. Her shit was cute but I had on a pricey, green, satin, form fittin’ mini-dress, no panties underneath. My face had been loaded with tons of make-up earlier in the mornin’ before indulgin’ into my drug session, so I hoped like hell it still looked flawless, and that the foundation still hid my fadin’ bruises. It was important for me to hit Sasha with the false impression that everything was good with me. She stood at the door with an attitude, then decided to clear her throat.
“Uhh…You gon’ let me in or what?”
“I might.” I hunched my shoulders and hit her with a snarl.
She frowned but I didn’t give a fuck. I studied Sasha’s outward appearance one more time which could be summed up in two words,
dime piece
. Life must’ve been treatin’ her lovely ’cause she still looked like she was bred from money, especially by the diamond bracelet she rocked on her arm. It sparkled, it shone, and made the whole damn office light up. Unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said about her attitude. She was still nasty, standoffish, and still rocked the best wig money could buy.
“What do I owe the honor?” I finally asked her, lookin’ downward.
“The honor? I’m here to work. Tony called, said he needed to make big money this week. So I’m here.”
I quickly jerked my neck backwards.
What the fuck did she just say
? I asked myself. The sound of she and Tony talkin’ disgusted me. I rolled my eyes, opened my office door fully, allowin’ her to enter, then quickly turned my back. There was nothin’ left to do but rush ova to my desk where I
felt most comfortable, with my drugs.
“So, you saying Tony called you? I’m not really sure, why,” I added nastily.
“I…”
She tried to respond but I cut the bitch off… “Whatever,” I told’er.
My fist banged against the desk shufflin’ the remainin’ coke a bit. I guess the drugs had me trippin’ ’cause jealously invaded my body. Sasha was on her game, so it wouldn’t have surprised me if Tony had bought the new diamond bracelet she now flaunted in my face. I tried to turn my attention elsewhere, switchin’ my focus to the loud, annoyin’ sound blarin’ from the phone. I picked it up, hit myself in the forehead, and slammed it onto the receiver. The fuckers had hung up on me!
Next thing I knew, Sasha had invited herself to sit in the chair in front of my desk. Her grin screamed wicked! I wanted to throw a tantrum, curse her out, and kick her ass out the front door, but instead I grabbed a cigar to remind her of the symbolic reason why Betty smoked cigars. I wanted her to know I was gettin’ paid, a bonafide madam, and she-
just a hoe
.
I lit my shit, blew out the match, and sent a gust of smoke in her direction purposely. While she sat waitin’ for me to make the next move, I simply stared her down and kept smokin’. Suddenly, crazy visions of her suckin’ Tony off in some lavish hotel infiltrated my mind. Then it switched to visions of Sasha and Tony at Betty’s, where he licked her like a temptin’ lollipop. I stopped abruptly, tried to clear my head from all the wild thoughts. I just couldn’t help myself. Sasha was bad news and I knew it. She sat twirlin’ that fuckin’ bracelet on purpose.
“You fuckin’ Tony?” I finally blurted out.
“What kinda question is that?”
“The kinda question that needs to be answered!” I
stood up hopin’ to challenge Sasha. “I wanna know if you kept in touch with Tony? And how? How did he manage to just call you outta the blue?”
Sasha surprised me. She stood up, too.
“I’ve always had his number, and he had mine.” Her hands moved onto her hips like she wanted to show me a thing or two. “He’s got all the girl’s phone numbers that used to work at Betty’s…and most of them have his.” She grinned wickedly. “What? You thought you were special?”
“Fuck you, Sasha! And fuck Tony too!”
“Oh, I have! Many times at Betty’s,” she smirked, “and at his spot in City Island.” She continued, “Oh…and let me not forget, at the house in Jersey.”
Sasha coulda bought my soul for a buck. I felt extra small. His house? Where his soon to be ex-wife lived? I remained in a daze for nearly two minutes straight.
“But let’s get this straight,” Sasha interrupted… “because I don’t want no bullshit to interfere with my money while I’m here. I’m here to work and don’t give a fuck about Tony. He’s a businessman, in case you didn’t get the memo. He owns a string of businesses, and this is just one. I happen to like his style,” she proudly proclaimed. “’cause I’m about business, too.” She pointed to herself makin’ her finger abruptly stop at her chest. “You’re not his number one. I know that for sure. You woulda been better off with me, where the Chardonnay never runs dry!” She ended with a confident frown.
The bitch had hit my last nerve and her arrogance soared to a new level. I was positive Sasha would bring in money, more money for me to leave with once I decided to leave Brooklyn. So I figured I’d let the bitch stay. The last two days had been sweet as far as finances were concerned. The thought of the ten thousand we made in two days instantly put a smile on my face. The girls seemed to meet my
quota’s each day, with Angel at the top of the list. She’d already proven to be a cash cow in just that short period of time. She’d pulled in big money for the brothel since she showed up and hadn’t given me any problems yet, so adding Sasha to the flock wouldn’t hurt.
I held one side of my nostril and snorted like a hungry elephant, even though Sasha stared me down like I was crazy. After givin’ a quick exhale, I raised my head, then waved her off like I was swattin’ a fly. She moved slowly, unable to hide the fact that she was shocked by my behavior.
“Go to the top of the stairs and take any open bed!” I ordered.
“Where?”
“You’ll figure it out,” I told her. “Just get the hell outta my face!” I pointed to the door without even lookin’ her way, and neva even considered doin’ anything more. Sasha wasn’t even worthy of my gettin’ up from my desk or screamin’ for Cinnamon. I had three more lines of coke to finish before I dealt with any bitches for the day. Besides, it was too early, I’d convinced myself.
I could tell Sasha was pissed, but didn’t give a fuck. She stormed off and I rushed behind her to lock my damn door. All kinds of shit ran through my mind as I made my way back toward my desk. But before I could sit down, my eyes darted toward the street. A few cars whisked by but the black Escalade with the deep tint caught my attention. I blinked, hopin’ like hell I was hallucinatin’. As soon as I got a clear view, it became obvious what was going down. My eyes bulged while I contemplated my next move.
They looked Italian, mob like, none like I’d neva seen before. I counted four from where I stood, and prayed there were no more. They were all dressed in sweat gear, jeans, and casual attire, dressed as if they’d showed up to handle some dirty deeds. The tallest of them all reminded me of Gino in
the face. His hair was cut like a bowl and he walked with a ruthless swagger. My mind raced. Why were they here? Was I ’bout to get another ass whippin’? Or were they comin’ to get free pussy from my girls? Then it dawned on me, maybe they were comin’ to collect money? Tony had already warned me.
Luckily, Cinnamon had already moved my portion of the money to the kitchen. She’d convinced me against my will to put the money inside the large bottom portion of an imported vase, where she said the girls would neva find it. So my cash was safe as far I was concerned. If Tony couldn’t handle his business, it would be his shit that got taken, not mine.
I dropped low to the floor hopin’ none of them hadn’t seen me through the window. The first guy who walked with a quick stride, had already reached the stairs and the othas strolled quickly behind. Once I’d stooped as low as my cracking knees would allow, I jetted ova to the safe and pulled out the 9mm. It was the only thing that would save me if things got ugly.
A part of me wanted to shout Cinnamon’s name, partially to warn her about the visitors outside, yet more importantly to instruct her not to answer the door. I stayed low, runnin’ rampant throughout the house. I could hear the office phone ringin’, yet it neva even registered that it was a phone.
Before long, I heard Cinnamon at the top of stairs rushin’ to answer the ringin’ doorbell. While she hummed an unknown tune, I whisked like an FBI agent from one room to another tryin’ to check out the best location to hide. I ended up behind the hall closet in the foyer which had given me the most discreet view of the front door. I kept hissin’ tryna catch Cinnamon before she made it half way down the staircase. She finally heard me, stopped in her tracks, and gave me a weird stare. I shot her a crazy hiss and placed my forefinger ova my lips lettin’ her know not to talk. Her face showed me
that she thought it was strange by the way I kept swattin’ her back up the stairs with my hand. I could tell she thought I was high by the way she smacked her lips, and turned with an attitude to head back up the stairs. She shook her head givin’ me a pitiful stare and disappeared to the top level just as the frightenin’ sounds increased outside the front door.
The first knock sent me into a frenzy. Then knock after knock, the thumpin’ became more and more persistent. But I neva flinched. It was important to be a trooper. After all, wasn’t
I
in charge of the house? I questioned myself. My body sat nervously behind the door, outta sight, yet in position for the perfect view to the front door. I watched and waited as three of the men talked to each otha in muffled voices and shook the door knob profusely. My heart thumped, but I neva moved, prayin’ that they wouldn’t be able to get in.
Before I could blink, the noise of the shakin’ knob grew louder. They were determined to get inside. I wasn’t sure if they were using a credit card, a jimmy, or whatever the fuck, but they were tryin’ their damness to get into my spot. I counted to myself, then prayed, then counted again. Then the phone started ringin’ like crazy, almost as if the caller knew I was in the house. My eyes darted from the direction of the ringin’ phone back to the door. Then from the door to my office. I snapped back. I knew I had to put the sounds of the phone outta my mind and concentrate on the shakin’ door. My breathing deepened. Then my head titled backward in anguish just about the same time that the front door flung open.
I thought for sure I’d had a heart attack when my body jumped without my permission from my hidin’ spot. I stood wide-eyed, like an easy target in the middle of the foyer. It was sad to say that a Madam had the deer caught in headlights look. My hands were behind my back with my finger on the muthufuckin trigger. I felt like Rambo as the thought of killin’ them all bounced around in my head. I’d been to jail
once and neva planned on going back, but the drugs had me thinkin’ my plans had changed.
“What the fuck you got behind your back?” the tallest guy shouted.
He pointed at me, tippin’ his boys off to the position of my hands. I figured they all knew what was up from my suspicious stance. I eyed them all standin’ in a cluster just a few feet away from the front door.
“Who are you?” I replied. “And what do you want?” I pretended to be calm, while focusin’ on the tallest guy. It seemed like he was the one in charge. His no-nonsense expression combined with the otha three men lookin’ to him for answers assured me my assumption was correct.
“I ask the questions,” he responded, takin’ a step toward me. “I’ll give you one more fuckin’ shot! What’s behind your back?”
The smallest guy with a long, nasty scar just below his chin took a step in my direction, too.
I thought to myself,
oh shit
! Then breathed again. I gripped the gun tighter as I felt the perspiration from my hands increase. Next thing I knew, a guy with ten pounds of gold around his neck, and super starched jeans gave me a sharp warnin’.
“fuckin’ moulie, put your hands where we can see them! Now!” he shouted.
“The bitch wanna be a ganster, Raul,” the shorter guy yelled out.
“Why the fuck you say my name? Asshole!”
Even though I had them arguin’ and knew at least one of their names, I gave’em what he wanted. I took the gun from behind my back in two quick seconds and pointed.
“I’ll give you to three,” I warned. My voice was deep, strong, and lacked any tremble. “If you fuckers aren’t outta here, I’m shootin’!”
The room fell silent. My heart thumped. Then, outta the blue, it sounded. Gunfire. Pop! Pop! Pop!