It was why I had trusted him. Then
again, when I’d left home, I had only been looking to get away from
my stepfather and my mother. KuJoe had given me a roof over my head
and a way to make money. It was supposed to be a temporary job.
Just something to tide me over until I could finish high school, go
to college, get a degree, and make something of myself.
I’d made something of myself, all
right.
KuJoe took the black fedora off his
head and placed it on the armrest of his seat. I rolled my eyes,
knowing he’d worn the fedora just for me. Out on the streets, no
one could tell KuJoe was a pimp. He didn’t act or dress the part,
and that was why the feds had such a hard time catching him in the
act of doing anything wrong. No, KuJoe only dressed like Ronald
Isley and acted like some seventies version of a stereotypical pimp
when he was coming to see me in my condo where my neighbors would
see him. So he could embarrass me, in order to keep me in my place
and show he still had some type of “power” over me. I stared at the
hat and squinted, trying to see if I could get it to explode if I
just focused hard enough. Nothing happened.
Secret, my ass.
All of KuJoe’s thugs looked the same,
even though they were all different ethnicities. They were all
tall, muscled, bald, with thick necks, tattoos, and wore black
suits and scowls. He always had a Hispanic, a Caucasian, and
another black guy with him. He’d had four guys once; an Asian guy
had been with him, but one day he wasn’t there. When I’d asked
about him, KuJoe had told me he’d been killed. Then he’d started to
cry.
It was the only time I’d ever seen
KuJoe show that type of emotion.
It was that one night that led me to
let down my guard completely with him, and because of that, I was
now having to pay the price.
“
That little rat who just
left here don’t really seem like he was your type there, Gorgeous,”
KuJoe said, moving his left hand to the lid of my glass candy dish
and lifting it. KuJoe had a sweet tooth, just like I did, and he
always, always put his hand in my candy dish to eat some of my
candy.
I constantly ended up
dumping out all of the candy when he left and scrubbing the inside
of the candy dish as well. One day I should fill the candy dish
with some candy neither one of us enjoyed… like Mike & Ike.
Although, why should I punish myself just to spite him? Besides,
KuJoe’s lackeys
loved
that candy and would probably empty the bowl.
“
Money is always my type,
KuJoe,” I said primly, knowing that was all he wanted to hear. The
loud guffaw that exploded from his chest let me know I’d answered
correctly.
“
Sho’ you right,
there
Tyler
. Sho’
you right.” His laughter faded away as he filled his mouth with a
colorful handful of M&M’s and chewed on them thoughtfully, his
gaze moving over me where I stood at the edge of the room once more
before he swallowed and smiled. “Why you standin’ all the way over
there? What’s wrong? You don’t want to come and sit on Daddy’s lap
no mo’?”
I shuddered in disgust and
crossed my arms. “KuJoe, you haven’t been my
Daddy
for years. Can we just do
this, please, so you can leave? I’d like to get some rest before
Ivan shows up.”
“
Oohh. La-de-dah,” KuJoe
mocked me, lifting his arm and flopping his wrist forward. “You
hear that, fellas? Ivan’s coming over, so we have to hurry
up.”
I should have been ready for it. KuJoe
may have been big, but he was fast as fuck, and he had played
football before an injury forced him out of the league. So whether
it was my exhaustion from the three blowjobs, anal, rimming,
reverse cowgirl, and 69 I’d given Barry, or it was residual from
the emotion of losing Jack, I don’t know, but I’d forgotten about
how fast KuJoe was, and so I’d forgotten to curb my innate
snarkiness. Before I knew it, I was pressed up against the wall,
his hand around my throat, the air being cut off from my
lungs.
“
Lookee here,
bitch
,” KuJoe said.
“Just because I worked out this deal with you, don’t mean I can’t
go back on my word. Got that?”
I nodded my head, and KuJoe let go of
me quickly. He stepped back and straightened his cuffs as if
dealing with me had, in some way, mussed him.
“
Now, shall we conduct our
monthly transaction?” he asked, his voice so syrupy sweet I wanted
to gag. Instead, I nodded again and walked past the stairs to the
guest bedroom on the bottom floor. KuJoe and his thugs didn’t
follow me. They never did. They knew they didn’t have to. There
were no windows and therefore no way to escape from this room; and
besides, they’d already found me once, and if I ran, they’d just
find me again.
Stepping into the room, I walked over
to the wall and lifted off the painting a former client had
commissioned of me and placed it on the queen-size bed with the
brown-and-gold coverlet. Turning back to the wall, I entered the
code for the safe and then placed my index finger on the screen so
it could scan my fingerprint. When the keypad flashed green, I
turned the handle and opened the safe. I pulled out the money
within and counted the cash to make sure I had enough to pay KuJoe
what he’d come for.
I sighed. Just enough to pay KuJoe and
still have enough to survive on for the rest of the month, and that
was without Barry’s check, tip, and whatever I made from Ivan
today. Maybe I wouldn’t need Dodger Vanderbrook, after
all.
Whoa
. Why the fuck was I thinking about him? I’d made sure
to
not
think
about him all day. I didn’t do that. I didn’t
think
about men. I was thought
about. I was fantasized about. Obsessed over. Yearned for. I didn’t
do the thinking, fantasizing, obsessing, or yearning. I wasn’t even
sure I knew
how
to do those things.
I shook my head to dispel
any crazy notions I was thinking about the tall, gorgeous—oh no,
absolutely,
not
,
going there—Dodger Vanderbrook, and closed the safe, put the money
on the bed, and replaced the painting before lifting the stack of
cash in both hands, because it took both hands to hold it, and
returned to the living room.
“
Aaahhh. There
he
is,” KuJoe said,
smirking. I barely managed not to glare at him, but I maintained my
calm and walked toward him. I knew the routine. I didn’t hand the
money to him. I handed it to one of the thugs. The one closest to
me, who handed it to the next one, who handed it to the next one,
who handed it to KuJoe.
Each one observed it for defects,
tracking devices, poisons, that type of thing, and each one took
some of the money. They knew how much they were supposed to make,
depending on how much I was supposed to be paying KuJoe overall.
KuJoe knew how much he should end up with after his boys had gotten
their cut. If KuJoe didn’t end up with the right amount, someone
was going to wind up dead.
Most likely… me.
I didn’t show them how scared I was.
As a matter of fact, I made sure to look both bored and annoyed by
their very existence. It was an expression I’d learned well by
rubbing elbows with the Hollywood superstars and the other elite of
America over the years. When the money finally reached KuJoe, I
watched him out of the corner of my eye, my hand lifted up to my
face as I pretended to inspect my flawless manicure, done for me in
my home by Ming Wong.
He counted the money, once,
twice, and a third time before huffing and rolling it up and
placing a rubber band around it. I closed my eyes only briefly in
relief. A rubber band meant all of the money was there. I had
survived another meeting with my ex. I would see them out, clean my
house, shower, and then get ready for Ivan, which meant putting on
a tiny miniskirt, a half shirt that said
Bad Girls Always Finish First
on the
front, and a pair of strappy, heeled sandals. I then grabbed a
lollipop from the closet to complete the look. I catalogued
everything I would need to do in my head as I watched KuJoe walk
toward me.
“
Thanks for the money,
Gorgeous. I thought you didn’t have it for a second. What with the
way you was acting all froggy and shit,” he said, one side of his
mouth lifting up into a smirk. “But then again, you always did like
to keep shit a secret, didn’t you?”
I glared at him, and instead of
responding, I walked toward my front door and swung it
open.
“
I’d say it was nice seeing
you again KuJoe, but that would be a lie, and I may be a
high-priced whore, but I’m no man’s liar. Now can you please leave
before Ivan gets here?” I asked, trying to make my voice
pleasant.
“
Gladly. Wouldn’t want you
to miss your next client,” KuJoe said with a dark chuckle. He
snapped his fingers, and all his goons began to file out of the
room, two before him and one following after him. KuJoe stopped in
front of the open door and looked at me. “Oh, by the way? I drove
past Newby Street over there in Glendale. Saw me a beautiful little
girl. There was a couple there watching her play outside. A black
lady in her forties and a white man in his fifties. They called her
Stella while she was playing, but when she wouldn’t come inside,
they called her Stella McKenzie.”
I stiffened slightly, but refused to
look at him. I knew KuJoe’s tricks and knew he was looking for a
reaction, any reaction, out of me. I refused to give him one,
however, and when long moments passed, and I still hadn’t said
anything, he laughed and walked out of the door, his thug following
behind him, the lackey giving me what appeared to be a look of
compassion. I hoped KuJoe didn’t see the look of sympathy on the
other man’s face, especially not aimed my way, because while there
were girls and boys who had left KuJoe, some who had run from KuJoe
owing him money, what I had done to him was much worse. Any
kindness thrown my way from someone who was supposed to be loyal to
KuJoe would see them being beaten and tortured to within an inch of
their life before they would finally get a bullet right between the
eyes. I’d seen it happen twice before because KuJoe had made me
watch.
I closed the door behind them and
pressed my back against it. I had to calm down and fight against my
instincts. I wanted to run to my phone and call to check on Stella.
I wanted to jump in my car and drive over to Glendale even though
it wasn’t my day to see her. But that was exactly what KuJoe wanted
me to do. He was no doubt sitting out in his car waiting for me to
race outside, hop in my car, and drive to the yellow house on Newby
Street to check on Stella and make sure she was okay. But I wasn’t
going to do that.
After I was calm, I pushed away from
the door and headed upstairs to change. I had to get ready for
Ivan, and then when he left, I’d call and check on
Stella.
Chapter Four
Ivan had been gone for over two hours,
and I’d spoken to Stella who had assured me she was more than fine,
she was “great.” And now I was standing out on the balcony of my
condo, sipping a glass of Chardonnay as I considered my week. I had
three clients scheduled for the week, a hair appointment, a
pedicure, a massage, a—I turned at the knock on my door, confusion
filling me as I headed toward it.
Who the fuck could that
be?
While it wasn’t outside the norm for
me to receive what I called the “Drive-by Client” or “DBC”, they
usually called when they got to the lobby to let me know they were
coming up, especially to make sure I didn’t already have someone
scheduled. I didn’t mind DBCs. I actually loved them. I got to
charge them ten times what I normally would, and they were usually
either extremely horny—which meant they usually got off faster or
went longer, which meant I usually got off—or they were so drunk
they passed out before we got a chance to do anything. Either way,
I ended up winning with a DBC.
So, with the idea of all the lovely
potential a DBC could bring me, I walked over to my front door,
opened it, and found myself looking up, up, up into the blue eyes
of Dodger Vanderbrook.
“
Well, hello there,
beautiful. Didja miss me?” he said in a Texan drawl. I raised an
eyebrow and crossed my arms over my chest, balancing my glass on my
elbow.
“
I didn’t realize you were
a stalker when we met, Mr. Vanderbrook. I wish I had known. I would
have been a little more invested in avoiding you,” I told
him.
Dodger laughed and stepped into my
condo, uninvited. A part of me was affronted, but the rest of me
was thrilled. He was being aggressive. An alpha male. Taking
charge. Staking a claim on me.
I had him exactly where I wanted him,
after only one day. It was so easy I was almost a little
disappointed.
“
You weren’t avoiding me,
Tyler. You know it, and I know it,” Dodger said. He walked toward
me as I backed away until I collided with the wall. He took my
glass from me and gulped down the liquid inside without asking. He
licked his lips and looked back at me.
“
I had you pegged as a
Cosmopolitan type of guy,” he said with a smile.
I shrugged. “I had you pegged as
straight.”