Wounded Love (G Street Chronicles Presents From Love to Loathe Series) (2 page)

“You couldn’t call me once?”

“I told you Nantucket has horrible service and my poor aunt was really bad off.”

“Baby, you’ve been gone for three months.”

“It’s actually been eighty-nine days. It was supposed to have been ninety, but your brother insisted.”

Trey reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He set it in front of me and I stared at it.

“Open it, will ya?”

I picked up the small box and cracked it open; it held a ring with a round stone flanked by two smaller stones.

“Will you make an honest man out of me?” he asked.

“Dear God,” Cinnamon moaned as she rose from her seat. “Happy Birthday, Cricket,” she said as she walked away.

I sat there looking at the ring.

Dax walked back over to fill my glass again. “Whoa. Let me get you something a little stronger,” he said.

I nodded, and he bustled away. Dax came right back and poured some brown liquid in a glass. As he set it down, he widened his eyes and took a deep breath before he walked away.

“I mean, hell, Cricket, I know it’s just you and me, so we should do this.”

“I’m not ready to get married, Trey.”

“You’re not ready to get married…or are you just not ready to get married to me?”

“Does it matter?”

Trey slapped the drink out of my hand and yanked the hair at the back of my head so that I was looking at him. “See, that fuckin’ smart mouth of yours is what makes me do things to you that I don’t want to do.”

Dax walked over and set a drink down in front of Trey.

“Trey, did you want the chef to make you something?” Dax asked, trying to help me out, and I loved him dearly for it. Trey released me and righted himself.

I looked down at my watch. “I need to get back to work.”

He waved his hand for me to go. I walked to the bar and handed Dax forty dollars. He smiled at me and squeezed my hand; I didn’t react.

As I left the bar, I heard Trey call Dax back over to the table. Trey always got shit faced when he was stressed or upset about something. Since I hadn’t said or acted the way he had outlined in that fucked up head of his, I knew I could hang it up on getting any sleep tonight. I knew he would be shit faced tonight and would more than likely take it out on me.

I made it back to the floor and did two more rounds, which were both successful. It was time for Sugar’s shift, so I went back to the cash cage and turned my chips in.

“Have a good one, honey,” Misty said.

As I boarded the elevator, Troy stepped around the corner and got on with me.

“I need a favor, Cricket,” he said.

“What’s up?”

“I need you to work the club room tonight.”

“Alright. What time?”

“In an hour,” he said, looking at his watch.

I nodded at him and faced the elevator door. He slid over to me and placed one of his hands on my butt and licked the side of my face. “You think you can sneak off from my brother tonight?”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Do you ever say no to anything?” The elevator door opened on my floor.

“Do I have a choice?” I stepped off and didn’t look back.

In my room, I showered and put on a white shinny tank tee with tight leather pants and a matching jacket and stiletto heels. I put my hair up in a ponytail and carefully applied red lipstick. Then, I went back down to the bar and ordered a shot.

“What we got?” I shouted over the music to the bartender.

“High rollers are in VIP, and some computer guys are sitting over in Spain,” he yelled back at me over the music.

Three Strikes Casino and Hotel had two clubs in it; one was an upbeat, hip-hop style club, and the other was a more laid back, reggae, pop feeling spot. Tonight, I was working in the reggae club. My job was to make sure the rich guys were having fun with the planted call girls. I had to make sure their tables were full of women and drinks. The bartenders would let me know where the hot tables were, and I would send over what they needed. Everyone knew me and trusted me, and that was the way I liked it.

I’d been there an hour, and I’d over stuffed the computer guys section with pretty blonds while making sure they had plenty of champagne to drink. Two guys in VIP were fucking four call girls, and the other three watched them with their dicks in their hands. I looked at the girls, and they gave me the thumbs up — they were okay. I told the bouncer to check on them in twenty minutes. I went back downstairs and sat at the bar with a rum and coke. On my second sip, the D.J. called me out and told me to get up and shake that sexy ass of mine.

“Your work never ends,” the bartender said with a smile.

The D.J. started playing my favorite reggae song,
Hold You
by Gypitan. I stood up, and the strobe lights started. I handed the bartender my leather jacket. Then I pulled the twisty out of my hair and shook my hair around to hide my face. No matter how many times I heard this song, it always made me tear up; tonight was no exception.

As I walked to the dance floor, I thought about where I was a year ago and how perfect my life was. Now my whole entire world was a complete clusterfuck. I was fucking one brother, sucking the other off, and letting the old me do terrible things
to
me.

I stepped onto the floor and raised both of my arms and joined the crowded floor. Everyone was grinding and humping. I closed my eyes and let the tears fall. Someone pulled me close to them, and I didn’t even care. I danced with him and then another man pulled me and then another. I danced like that for the next two songs, totally uncaring.

When I made it back to the suite, Trey had three guys there. Cinnamon and Sugar were both drunk, and the guys were coked up. I spoke to them and sat for about ten minutes before I left and went to get in the shower. I locked my bathroom door and slid the vanity chair under the doorknob. I heard Trey try the door while I was in the shower. He started banging on the door, and I stayed in the shower until he settled down. I put a nightgown on and opened the door slowly.

When I walked out, Trey slapped me in the face and I fell back on the wall. I had stopped screaming a long time ago, and I just stood there waiting for the next blow. He broke one of my gown straps and then yanked it up and slammed me against the wall. I fought with him until I was turned backwards. I had never let Trey inside Juicy; he always got it from the back. Juicy had only ever had one visitor, and I planned to keep it that way as long as I lived.

“Let me get it from the front,” he slurred.

“I’m on my period,” I lied.

“You said that the last time.”

“You know this is your special place. I don’t let anybody else in there but you,” I lied again.

“You don’t let them old men in there, baby?”

“No, never. This is your secret place. It’s special.”

Trey slid into me from behind and asked me if I loved him. I lied to Trey almost every single night; I always told him yes.

Trey was normally done quickly, but he must have been really drunk, or maybe he had done some coke too. I’d have to turn my performance up a notch if I wanted to get some sleep tonight. I rode him reversed cowgirl style; this was Trey’s favorite position. He loved watching my ass bounce up and down. This position was more painful for me because he squeezed my ass cheeks so hard that I had major bruising the next day.

After a long, gruesome, eight minutes, Trey finally came. He pulled out, kissed my back, and told me he was sorry. He walked away and fell on the bed.

I returned to the bathroom, slid the vanity chair back under the door, and got back in the shower. When I got out, I slid on another one of the nightgowns hanging on the back of door and threw the now torn one into the trash. When I walked back into the room, Trey was passed out and would be until the morning.

My phone beeped, and I read the text message. “I need you,” Troy typed.

“Come on up.” I typed back before shutting the door and going into the living room.

Sugar was letting one of those guys go down on her, and Cinnamon and the other two guys were gone. But with the moans and screeches I heard coming from the bedroom they shared down the hall, I knew they were in there. I saw stacks of money on the table. Cinnamon and Sugar had hit the jackpot with these guys.

I cracked the door and waited for Troy to get there. He walked in, locking the door behind him. He watched Sugar and the guy on the couch for a while and then he came over to me on the other side of the suite. We went into the spare bedroom like we always did.

I locked the door behind us and kneeled down. I took him into my mouth and went to work. He lasted maybe two minutes; Troy always punched the wall when he came. He had never asked me for sex, and I was glad about that.

“Girl, that mouth and tongue of yours…”

I stood up and unlocked the door.

“Wait, did
he
do that to your face?” he asked.

I walked out the door and headed for the guest bathroom to wash Troy’s juices off my neck and breasts. When I came out, I did not see anyone. Sugar was gone, and so were her guest.

I went to the hallway closet and pulled out my bedding. I stepped out on the patio, shut the door, and laid down on the cushioned lounge chair. I slept here almost every night.

Chapter 2

Heart Attack

T
he next few weeks were exactly the same as any other. Troy had me working like a beast. I was covering special events and any personal needs he had, and then I had to damn near babysit his fuckin’ drunk of a brother. I’d asked Troy about getting me an apartment so I could have a place of my own, and he refused. He said he had to keep an eye on me; and then he went on to say with my reputation, I needed protection from all my admirers. He was lying; Troy wanted to keep me close to him, and he wanted to own me. And in all reality, he almost did.

I needed at least two more girls working the floor fulltime. Three Strikes was becoming an extremely popular casino. Mr. Paul was even considering opening another one across town. Troy, Lance, and I were the only people ever invited to the business meetings, and we had a meeting that morning in Mr. Paul’s penthouse suite. We had pop up meetings periodically; Mr. Paul liked to keep up with what was going on with the casino. Lance was Mr. Paul’s other right hand man, but Troy said Lance didn’t ever do shit.

Mr. Paul always had a full spread for the meetings. We had sausage, bacon, ham, pancakes, waffles, pastries, and fruit. Troy and I walked down the buffet line and picked at what we wanted.

“Why didn’t you wear any makeup?” Troy asked. I stared at him and then went and sat down on the couch. I made sure that the non-abused side of my face was facing Mr. Paul.

“Cricket, we’re glad to have you back. I know I missed you dearly. How’s your sick aunt?” Mr. Paul asked.

“Thank you, Mr. Paul. It’s good to be back. She’s better. The cancer is almost gone,” I lied.

Mr. Paul stood and walked toward me. He turned my face to the side, and he and Lance winced. “Well, it looks like not everybody’s glad to see you,” he picked up his phone and dialed a number, “I need a couple of icepacks and some aspirin up here in the suite.” He hung up and set the phone back on the table. “Cricket, do you realize how important you are to my establishment?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I would do just about anything to make you happy, and I don’t think you’re happy,” he said.

There was a knock at the door and Lance got up to get it. A server stood outside with two ice packs and a bottle of Tylenol. Lance handed them to me and I took two pills and placed the icepacks against my face.

“Mr. Paul, I’m fine; and I love my job. Thank you so very much for your concern. And thank you for giving me those ninety days to visit with my sick aunt.”

Mr. Paul walked over and sat right next to me. He took in a deep breath and crossed his legs.

“Just don’t ever, and I mean ever, leave us for that long again. I almost started to send the private jet to get you after the third week. And those two over there, argued the whole time you were gone.”

Troy cleared his throat and then Mr. Paul gave me a wide smile.

“Troy filled me in about that big mess you had last year with the reservation boys and your friend who got all caught up in it. I’m glad Troy and Trey found you and offered you a job here. This year has gone by so smoothly because of you; and I would like to give you a raise for that. We’re going to do six a head from now on. You will get your very own suite, and no one will have a key to it but you, I promise.”

“Thank you, Mr. Paul, but I was going to ask you for two more fulltime girls on the floor. We’re getting so swamped now, and I believe we could cover much more ground with more help. So in this case, if you agree we need more help, I will decline the raise so we can have more girls.”

“You will do no such thing, and you will get two more girls as soon as you can train them.”

“Thank you, Mr. Paul.”