3
Monica
“Mommy, that truck's finna run into our car.”
My daughters and I were coming out of Food Lion with enough groceries for the next two weeks when Liese spotted a big blue tow truck backing up behind my Lexus.
Oh shit!
I almost had a heart attack as I hurried across the parking lot pushing the shopping cart over to where a short black man, who had to weigh all of three hundred pounds, pried his big butt out of the king cab.
“Excuse me! Excuse me! What're you doing?” What I should have asked was why the hell was he following me. How else would he know I went to the grocery store every Saturday morning?
He glanced over at me with a cocky smirk on his crusty dry lips. “Is this your car?” he asked as if he didn't already know.
“Yes, that's my car.” I hit the button, deactivating the door locks, and urged the girls to get inside. There was no way he was taking my only mode of transportation without a fight.
He wasted no time handing me a pink sheet of paper. “Your car payment is past due. I have instructions to bring this car back to the lot ... unless you got money.”
Hell no, I didn't have any money. If I did, he wouldn't have followed me to the grocery store and be trying to tow my precious Lexus away. Shit. I barely had enough money to cover my bills for the month. To make matters worse, last week I needed four new tires, which took what little I had left in savings.
I glanced down at the paper and groaned. I owed Mallory Finance almost half of next month's child support payment. There was no way in hell I would ever be able to catch up. Sure, I'd missed a couple of car notes, but I never expected them to send the repo man.
I stood there dumbfounded, drumming my finger on the trunk of my car as I tried to figure out what to do. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of anything. I had run out of options. Come on. It wasn't like I wasn't trying to find a job. Trust me. Nobody could ever say I was some lazy chick laid up in the house, waiting for my check at the first of the month. I'd been trying to get a job for weeks, applying for almost anything, and yet I hadn't had any luck.
“Ma'am, your kids are gonna have to get outta that car.” He glanced down at his watch as if I was wasting his time. “I've gotta take this car in.”
I looked over my shoulder. Liese and Arissa were staring through the window. I could tell they were scared. Ignoring him, I hit the remote starter, opened the car door, and turned on the DVD player.
“Mommy, is everything okay?” Arissa asked, her lower lip quivering. She was the oldest at seven, while Liese was six.
“Sweetie, everything's fine. Y'all watch a movie while I talk to this man.” I kissed her chocolate cheek, shut the door, then turned around in time to see the crack of the tow truck driver's ass as he reached down for the chain so he could hook it to my back bumper.
“Please, have a heart,” I pleaded. “I've got two little girls and a cartful of groceries.”
“That's not my problem.” I was getting ready to start begging when all of a sudden he looked at me. I mean
really
looked at me like he was staring at the buffet at Herb's Rib Shack. “You know ... we can always work out some kinda trade.”
I had to bite my tongue to stop from saying what I really wanted. Believe me, I was offended, but I was starting to think that maybe the only thing that was going to get me out of this mess was using what the good Lord gave me.
“What do you have in mind?” I asked skeptically. I'd say anything to distract him from hooking my car to the back of his truck and hauling it away. I could already count all the additional charges that would cost me. “Boy, it's gonna be hot today!” I moaned, then reached for the top two buttons of my blouse and popped them loose. In my haste to get to the store before it got crowded, I hadn't even bothered to put on a bra.
Just as I hoped, his eyes lowered to my chest and his bottom jaw dropped, which I found hilarious because I belonged to the itty-bitty titty committee.
“Look, I know I owe you something for wasting your time, sooo ... I'm open to suggestions.” I softened my voice and tried to sound enticing enough to draw his full attention. I guess it worked. He looked around to see if anyone was watching while I glanced over to make sure my girls weren't still staring out the window. The last thing I needed them to see was their mother behaving like a whore. Thank goodness they were busy watching
Toy Story 3
.
Dropping the hook, he signaled for me to follow him into the cab of his truck. I hesitated for a second as I watched him climb inside. For all I knew, he could be some kinda serial killer. Seriously, I didn't even know who this dude was, and once I got in his truck, he could speed off and folks might never see or hear from me again. Just to be safe, I reached inside my purse for a fingernail file and hid it in my sleeve. If he seemed like a psycho, I would just stab his crazy ass in the eye.
I climbed in on the passenger's side, shut the door, then swung around on the seat. He was sitting on the driver's side grinning like a damn fool. “What do you have in mind?”
He slid over on the bench next to me and placed his arm across my shoulders. He then muttered something that sounded like “Just sit back and enjoy” before he reached over and touched my breasts. “Mmmm, I love me some little titties,” he purred as he squeezed them like he was sampling melons at the grocery store. While he was moaning and thoroughly enjoying himself, I looked around, making sure none of the customers pulling in and out of the parking lot were looking our way. By the time I focused on him again, his belt was unbuckled and he was reaching for the zipper.
“You don't expect me to do that in the middle of the parking lot, do you?” I asked with attitude.
His gaze darkened. “Yeah, cunt, I do. You got a problem with it? Because if you do, I'll just take your car and be on my way.”
I closed my eyes with anger. Any other time I would have cussed his fat ass out for calling me anything other than the name my motherâmay she rest her soulâhad given me. The only thing stopping me was that he had something I needed. Apparently I had something he wanted as well.
I cringed as he reached inside his underwear and then I was staring at the littlest dick I had ever laid my eyes on. I was two seconds away from laughing. What was worse was his big stomach. I don't know how the hell he expected me to reach his dick if his stomach was in my way.
My eyes started darting from side to side looking for a way out of this situation without losing my Lexus in the process. That's when I just happened to glance into the side-view mirror and noticed the Impala that had been parked in front of my car was backing out of the space. If I could get away, I could pull my car forward and out of the parking spot before someone came and pinned me in again. Time was of the essence and I needed to act fast. I gazed down at a large red slushy sitting in the cup holder. I knocked it over onto his lap.
“What the fuck?” he screamed as I jumped out of the car without a second to lose. “You stupid bitch!” he yelled after me.
I ran past my cart, stopping long enough to grab a family pack of chicken wings and a packet of Kool-Aid, then jumped into my car. I put the key in the ignition and hit the gas just as a car was getting ready to pull in front of me.
“Get the fuck outta the way!” I screamed and pressed my hand hard against the horn like a crazy woman, then gunned the engine. They had sense enough to slam their foot on the brake just in time to avoid a collision, because nothing was stopping me from getting the hell away from Food Lion. The woman in the Saturn gave me the finger while I simply blew her a juicy kiss.
I zoomed out of the parking lot. My heart was beating so hard, I felt like it was about to come through my shirt. I couldn't believe I had just done that. But when a mother's scared, she's likely to do just about anything.
It wasn't until I was a block away that I felt tears streaming down my face.
There goes dinner for the next two weeks.
All of my groceries were sitting in the parking lot for someone else to take home.
“Mommy, are you okay?”
I had forgotten the girls were in the car. I swallowed back tears and glanced through the rearview mirror. “Yes, Arissa, sweetheart, I'm fine,” I said and started laughing like I had been playing a game when I was really hurting inside. This was not at all the life I had signed up for. It wasn't their fault we lived from check to check and could no longer do the things they were used to doing. It had broken my heart when I had told them we couldn't go on vacation for spring break like we had done every year. There was no longer money for gymnastics and piano lessons. All the things my girls had been accustomed to were now gone. Not only could I no longer afford activities for my girls, but their father refused to help pay for it. Can you believe it? What kind of man denied his little girls? My ex-husband claimed he was struggling to make ends meet, but I knew that was just bullshit. After the divorce, he'd sold our house and bought an even bigger house on the west end of Richmond. The only reason I knew was because I noticed the new address on the child support check he'd given me. Reyna scooped me up and we drove over to his house after dark. I about shit my pants when I saw the size of it. Broke, my ass! Anthony was so full of shit. I always knew he had money, but since he had always handled the finances, there had been no way for me to prove it.
Since I was already broke and had nothing to cook but a pack of chicken wings and a pitcher of Kool-Aid, I took the last few dollars I had, stopped at McDonald's, and picked the girls each up a Happy Meal, then sent them to their room to finish their movie. The tension in my shoulders relaxed a bit knowing I was home safely with my car back in the garage. I immediately called Reyna. She came right over.
“I can't believe he tried to get you to give him head in the parking lot!” she screamed, only seconds after I got done explaining what had happened.
I reached for another Kleenex and blew my noise. “Reyna, I have never been so humiliated in my life. What am I going to do? He's gonna come back.”
She gave me a sympathetic look. “Are you going to ask Anthony for help?”
I didn't have the heart to tell her I had already called him when I needed to replace my tires and he'd laughed in my face. I know I said I would never ask him for a dime, but I was starting to feel desperate and scared. I realized when you have kids, you ain't too proud to beg. “No, I'm going to find a job.” Even flipping burgers was beginning to sound good right about now. “There's no way I can go without a car ... not with the girls.”
We were quiet for a few moments before she said, “I can loan you the money.”
I shook my head. “No ... no way. I know you're trying to keep your own head above water.”
“You're my girl, so I'll do whatever I can to help.” She rose from the couch and came around and hugged me. I wrapped my arms around her and held on. “You need to take my offer. How are you going to get to school without a car?”
I released her and for once I didn't bother arguing, because I had run out of options. It wasn't like my phone was ringing off the hook with job offers. Just juggling classes and taking care of the girls was more than I could handle. So how was I going to fit working into my already tight schedule?
When Reyna gave me that look, I knew what she was going to suggest before the words even came out of her mouth. “How about we go down Friday night and check out the place and then you can decide. It doesn't hurt to just take a look.”
“Okay.” What other choice did I have? “I won't make any promises, but I'll go.” I'd never admit it, but for some strange reason I felt a shimmer of hope. I was about to step inside Scandalous Gentlemen's Club.
4
Robin
I was straddling Shane's lap, bumping and grinding. “Feel good to ya, Daddy?” I purred in my best little-girl voice.
“Hell yeah! Yo, hold up.” I rose and watched as he stuck his hand inside his drawers and adjusted his dick. As big as it was, the head peeked out the top of his jeans. “Okay, now sit on it.”
Negros were a trip. Always trying to get something for nothing.
You got the wrong one, baby.
They should know by now Treasure don't do nothing for free.
I took a moment to make sure my crotch was completely covered by the flimsy-ass black G-string. Last thing I needed was for some muthafucka to be saying “oops” when his dick accidently slipped inside my coochie. I had a customer try that shit once before and learned the hard way. I had been so pissed, I picked up a nearby beer bottle and bashed it upside his head, only to end up spending a night in jail. The only reason he dropped the charges was because I threatened to tell his wife his country ass had been at a titty bar tryna get some pussy. His wife was the mayor's daughter. It's a shame how much a muthafucka will tell you about their personal life when you're riding his lap. I always cataloged that information in my memory bank. You never know when you might need payback.
I lowered onto Shane's lap again and rocked my hips to the beat of Usher's “Papers,” and within seconds he started moaning and jerking. What can I say? I had mad skills. I know it sounds overly confident, but trust me, it had taken years to perfect my technique. And now I guaranteed I could make a muthafucka come without using my mouth or kitty cat. Trust and believe, I had enough niggas on speed dial who would be more than happy to verify. Brothas liked a challenge. Hell, all I liked was getting paid. In the end, everybody's happy.
I rubbed my crotch directly against the head of his dick, grinding hard, and was certain I was getting ready to double my money. To seal the deal, I leaned forward and licked my lips. It's something about a woman staring at a man while she's riding his lap that turned them on every time.
“Touch it,” he whispered.
“What?” I asked even though I'd heard him loud and clear.
“Fuck! Touch it, please.” His voice was stressed.
I grazed my lips against his cheek. “It's gonna cost you another bill.”
“Shit, whatever you want ... just make a nigga nut,” he said without hesitation. I love it when a guy gets straight to the point.
I looked around and made sure the bouncer and none of the other girls were looking. Scandalous had rules, and there was no way I was letting some baller fuck up my money. He couldn't touch me and I damn sure wasn't supposed to be giving him a hand job.
Reaching down between us, I wiggled my hips and stroked the head of his dick, which was resting against his stomach. Shane started pumping his hips and breathing heavily. I moaned like it felt good to me, then started talking dirty in his ear, and in under two minutes he was shooting in my hand. Sometimes it amazed me just how good I was.
When the song ended, I wiped his cum across the thigh of his jeansâhumph, why not? It's his shitâthen climbed off his lap, slipped my dress down over my head, and waited while he got himself together.
Grinning, Shane reached inside his pocket and peeled off another hundred. “Pleasure as always, Treasure,” he said with a satisfied grin. The pleasure was all mine. Shane was a sponsor who always came off them dollars without hesitation.
I took the money and slid it inside my garter, which was already stuffed with bills, then cooed, “Holla at ya girl again.” I blew him a kiss, spun on my heels and headed down the steps of the VIP section and back onto the floor.
The club was hyped. Stages were loaded and muthafuckas were everywhere. I moved across the club, strutting my stuff to the beat of the music, feeling like I owned the world. Shit, I looked good and damn sure knew it. I was rocking the hell outta a gold minidress that was a size four. I normally wore a six, but when I worked, I liked my gear nice and tight enough to turn heads, and this particular dress looked too good against my apple-bottom ass to pass up.
Scandalous was the most popular strip club in southern Virginia. It had a vibe as potent as smoking weed, and smelled drenched in money. I rubbed my hands in anticipation. The deejay was rocking and every night was a list of who's who. The clientele included ballers, athletes, politicians, and plenty of rich wealthy men. There were even old men who came in after popping a few Viagra so they could pass the time jacking off in the corner. You name it, they were up in there. Everybody found their fantasy when they stepped through those double doors. Tall, skinny, white, black, thick, titties, and plenty of naked asses. There was something for everyone, but the star of the show was me. No doubt. Hell, I worked hard to get where I was and I wasn't letting anyone steal my shine.
While I glided through the crowd, brothas were jocking me. But I blew them off. “I'll be back,” I sang playfully. I was on my way to the dressing room and didn't need anyone standing in my way.
I stepped into the room. Chicks were running around trying to get ready for their sets. The room smelled like cheap-ass perfume and sweat. I headed back to my locker, opened it, and put my money inside. In less than two hours I had earned three hundred dollars. Not bad, but the night was young and there was still plenty to be made. I reached for my hand sanitizer and cleaned that Negro's nut from between my fingers. Sometimes stripping could be nasty business.
“Hey, girl, how you doin' tonight?”
“Not bad,” I said as I swung around and faced Honey. “What about you?”
She twisted her lips, then dropped down on the bench in front of me with her legs cocked open, her bald coochie on display for anyone who wanted to see. “Girl, puhleeze, the night's been slow.”
That was a surprise, considering Honey, unlike me, will do just about anything for a dollar. What I just did for a bill, she would have done for half and even slobbed on his knob in the process. Trust me, she made her paper, I just couldn't figure out what the hell she did with it, because she definitely didn't spend it on her appearance.
I looked down at her platform shoes. They'd seen better days. The heels were run over and the toes were scuffed and worn out. The dress she was wearing was as cheap as it made her look, and that's a shame because Honey wasn't a bad-looking chick; not a dime piece, but she had the potential to be great, if she'd take some advice and learn to spend money on her weave. Instead she did it herself. I was a firm believer that you get what you paid for. Well, she paid twenty dollars for her weave, and that's exactly what it looked like. I know I sound like I'm hatin', but I'm just keepin' it real. She needed to step up her game. But despite her lack of class, Honey was cool people and one of the few girls that I even gelled with, because there were some cutthroats that danced at Scandalous. Every girl was fighting to be on top and had no problem taking you down in the process. I was cool with everyone, but I learned growing up never to trust anyone but myself, because ain't nobody else gonna have my back like me. Honey was just an exception to the rules. She was trying to make her money and she probably could make more if she wasn't so damn naïve. Niggas ran game on her and she was stupid enough to believe anything that came out of their mouths. Speaking of niggas, I suddenly noticed she was wearing sunglasses.
“Why you got them dark shades on?” I asked suspiciously. Honey tried to turn away, but I snatched the glasses away from her chocolate face before she could stop me. As soon as I saw the bruise under her right eye, I got mad. “Jordan beat yo ass again, didn't he?”
“Uhhh ...” She tried to deny it, but I already knew the truth.
I was so mad, I slammed my hand against the locker. “Damn, Honey. Why you keep letting him treat you like shit?”
She lowered her head, trying to avoid eye contact. “It was my fault. I provoked him.”
No one could possibly be that stupid, could they? “Who told you that, Jordan?”
She hesitated as if she wasn't sure she should tell me what happened. I knew it wouldn't last, because I was practically the only friend Honey had who wasn't strung out on crack. “He was trying to leave and I was all up in his face. I shoulda just let him go, but instead I snatched his keys off the table and wouldn't give 'em back.”
“So he hit you.” It was a statement, not a question, because it wasn't the first time, and it damn sure would be the last.
Honey finally nodded and gave me that pitiful look with those big brown eyes of hers. I just don't get her. You would think she would be trying to get her shit together, but instead she allowed Jordan to treat her like she was his own personal punching bag. Then she'd dump his ass for a while but eventually take him back. I was her once until I learned. One thing I'd never do again was take any shit from a man or female. Been there. Done that. And got the scars to prove it.
I sighed. “So what happened after that?”
“I told him to get the hell outta my crib and don't bring his bony ass back,” she said weakly. I noticed her bottom lip quivering. She was trying to act tough but I could tell she was scared of him.
“Mmm-hmm, but how long before you let his ass back in?” I asked as I shifted from one leg to the other in agitation.
She shook her head. “I'm not letting him back in. I had it with him. I've gotta get myself together and focus on getting Sophia back.”
Well, it was about damn time.
A couple of months ago, Honey lost custody of her three-year-old daughter. For some strange reason, she thought since Sophia was asleep, she could run down to the bar on the corner and have a drink. By the time she made it back to her apartment, the police and social services were waiting for her. One of the neighbors had found Sophia in the hallway crying. According to him, it hadn't been the first time.
“Did you get to see her on Tuesday?” I said, trying to change the subject before I got mad and went looking for Jordan myself.
A sad smile curled her lips. “Yeah, she's getting so big! Sophia's ready to come home. I told her real soon.”
I felt sorry for Honey because I knew in her own way she loved her daughter and wanted her back, but actions speak louder than words, and so far her actions said otherwise. From the things she had told me, it seemed like the foster family that had her was taking real good care of Sophia, and that said a lot. However, speaking from experience, even the idea of my child being in the system would have freaked me out. Thank goodness I don't have any.
“You'll get her back just as soon as you get your life together,” I said, trying to be positive. I waited for her to say something, but we were interrupted by a tall blonde with the best pair of boobs money could buy.
“Hey, Treasure, some guy's asking for you.”
I nodded at Pinky, then turned my attention back to Honey. “We're not done with this conversation. You stay your ass away from Jordan and focus on getting your daughter back.”
She nodded like a little kid does when they've been scolded. “I will, Treasure, watch and see.” I stared at Honey in silence for a few seconds, wondering if she really meant it.
No time to be wasted, I reached for a baby wipe and rubbed it across my coochie, then sprayed some mango-scented body spray all between my legs before I slammed my locker shut, spun the lock, and checked it twice to make sure it was secure. If a customer asked for you by name, that meant they wanted to spend some money, and my regular customers were the ones who kept the bills paid at my town house.
As soon as I met the heavy beat of the music, I sashayed across the floor and glanced at the small tables to my right and left. When I realized who was looking for me, I stopped dead in my tracks and cussed. It was my former boyfriend and the only man I'd ever been in love with. Damn.
What the hell does he want now?
“Well, well, well, if it ain't my little treasure chest.”
I was tempted to go back into the dressing room, but he'd already seen me.
I dragged my feet in five-inch heels over to his table and huffed, “What the fuck you want?”
“Came to see my favorite entertainer.” Halo smiled like I should be excited to see him.
Whatever
. I tried to turn away, but he grabbed my hand and yanked me back to him. “Now, is that how to treat me? C'mon, all I want is a few minutes of your time.” He held up a hundred-dollar bill just like he was giving a dog a bone.
Why can't he just leave me alone?
I thought. But what bothered me most was that no matter how much I tried to deny it, Halo still turned me the fuck on.
He was six feet with a medium build and a pair of green eyes that you could get lost in. Not to mention he had curly hair and the smoothest peanut butter brown skin.
Halo was one of the first ballers I had hooked up with. I thought that maybe we had something there for a moment. He kept my hair and nails done and my pockets fat, and invited me to move in with him. But after two years, our relationship started taking a turn for the worse.