Brooklyn Brothel (25 page)

Chapter 19

Thirty seconds of
complete silence had passed, and I still found myself in the middle of the floor, frozen-my gun taken, snatched from my grip. Tony’s goons or the unknown members of his Mafia family had me right where they wanted me. I was surrounded, held captive. Any way I tried to run, they were just two arm lengths away. Unfortunately for me, one guy was directly up on me. I still wasn’t sure what the fuck they wanted. Somehow they’d managed to take my gun, after I had shot into thin air by mistake; and had one of their own pressed into my side. I was certain it had claimed bodies. Strangely, the coldness of the weapon had me drippin’ with sweat. Surely, their bullets would rip right through me if I decided to make a move. The gun couldn’t be seen ’cause my eyes were glued straight ahead to the wall… but it felt hard and heavy, and scared me to death.

I wasn’t sure whether to raise my hands above my head as a sign of surrender, or keep them lowered and close to my side. Nothing seemed very clear to me… not even why they were at the house. What was I bein’ held at gunpoint for? I’d done nothin’. The men were talkin’ back and forth to each otha as if they had no clue how to handle me.

“Call it in,” the head guy uttered.

Call in what?
I wondered. But then my attention became focused on the chainsaw tattoo embedded in the tall guy’s neck.

They started pickin’ up cell phones and dialin’ out. I kept feelin’ like I was caught up in some Mafia movie shit.
Then, I heard the guy with all the gold around his neck call the short guy with the scar, Paulie. All of a sudden they got to fussin’ again about droppin’ names. For me, I needed the name of the tall guy who I perceived to be in charge. He seemed to be the one who could make the nightmare stop, and tell me what they were after. I couldn’t get his attention with my stare because his face was all bawled up at the guy who was name droppin’. It surprised me how red he turned.

“You still saying fuckin’ names? You lil’ fuck!” he shouted toward his boy. “Why the fuck would you call out names? That’s it! No more talking!”

The guy with the gold was obviously low on the totem pole. Stupid, too. He said nothin’ and looked as if he’d been embarrassed many times before. I remained dumb-founded just scannin’ the room, notin’ every detail.

He then shrugged his shoulders toward the quiet guy with the rounded obese shape and bald-head who was holdin’ the gun to my side. He neva said much but his body odor said it all. It was a sickenin’ smell and matched his filthy appearance. Besides the fact that he towered ova me, only his sloppy size kept me from kickin’ him in the nuts, and takin’ a chance on a break-away.

While he kept me hostage, still in the middle of the floor, I remained wide-eyed with my ears opened tryna take in as much as I could, and contemplatin’ when to make a move.

Paulie started shoutin’ back and forth askin’, “Did someone call the girl?” I kept thinkin’
what girl
…Who were they talkin’ about?

Paulie paced the floor, wiped his sweaty forehead with a hankerchief, then made a few phone calls. Ironically, the phone rang in the office again just as I watched him make his calls. I ignored the ringin’ sound and kept my focus on Paulie. He continuously talked about
the
girl
to the otha guys. They neva came out with a name, but ranted on for several minutes,
passin’ the blame until the solution to their problem walked into the room. When the sound of Cinnamon’s foot hit the bottom step, I swiveled my neck slightly, in slow motion to catch a glimpse of her from the corner of my eye. For once, she had a solemn look spread across her face.

I couldn’t put it all together, but she seemed to have no fear. She wasn’t smilin’, upbeat, or behavin’ like the Cinnamon I knew, yet she moved comfortably as if she knew the men wouldn’t bother her. I could see a black duffle bag thrown across her shoulder, and a plastic bag in her hand. I was so used to callin’ out her name when I needed her that my reflexes wanted to yell out to her. When she stopped just three feet behind me, Paulie asked her somethin’ that I missed, then approached her.

He dabbed at his forehead again. “What took you so long,” he asked. “Tony said he talked to you thirty minutes ago.”

The anticipation had me hyped. I couldn’t wait to hear her response. To my disappointment, she didn’t answer, simply passed him the plastic bag.

“What the fuck you looking so sad for?” Paulie asked, while openin’ the bag.

“That’s not important. I did my part.” She frowned.

“Yeah. And you got paid for it, too,” he chuckled. “Did you hear us fuckin’ calling you?”

“That’s not important either. I answered didn’t I?”

There was a slight pause. Nobody said anything. Then, I heard Cinnamon’s heels again.

“The girls are locked in the great room upstairs. They have no idea you’re even here,” she ended. “But I’m sure as time goes by, they’ll think it’s strange if Co-Co doesn’t show her face upstairs.”

Cinnamon passed off what looked to be a key and took a few steps forward attemptin’ to walk pass me. I could no
longer resist. “Cinnamon!” I called out.

She stopped to the side of me, turned, and looked in my direction. Her head tilted toward her chin. I just couldn’t get her to look me in the eye. When I noticed her teary eyes and guilt ridden face, my focus switched to her duffle bag, then the cell phone in her hand. It was at that point, I knew she was leavin’. She didn’t seem surprised that the men had me surrounded, nor that there was a gun jabbed in my side. My face tightened as I spoke to her. “So you gonna leave me like this!” I shouted as hurt filled my body.

She clicked her heels and walked toward the door neva even lookin’ back. Here I was, obviously in danger and my girl was walkin’ out on me. I knew the bitch wasn’t even gonna call the police.

“What the fuck?” I screamed, then stomped my foot onto the hardwood floor.

“What was I supposed to do Co-Co?” she stopped, and turned to say. “Tony gave me this gig! And they…!” she pointed toward Paulie, “gave me a chance to make a little extra money. I gotta get back to my daughter, Co-Co,” she pleaded. “I swear I needed the money.” Her palms were extended outward. “I never meant to hurt you. You know that, right?”

I shook my head back and forth. “Cinnamon, you told me you didn’t have any kids.”

“I told you a lot of things,” she admitted.

“Fuck you, Cinnamon!” was all I could blurt out. I wanted to let the tears flow but couldn’t show any weakness.

Cinnamon opened the front door and left. Of all people, why her? Only she had the power to hurt me. She was like a sister, my road dog, my right hand, the only one I’d let slip into my personal life. I’d learned the hard way a long time ago, people couldn’t be trusted. Nobody. I knew it all along, but poured my heart and soul into someone who
pretended to be my friend. I eyed Cinnamon all the way to the front door thinkin’ about all the things I’d done and said around her. I thought about all the secrets I’d told her, and most importantly, things we’d discussed about Tony. Even when the sound of the door shuttin’ should’ve erased her from my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder what was in the plastic bag she’d handed off to Paulie.

My thoughts were interrupted by the feel of fatso’s .357 now smashed into the side of my forehead. I froze. Did him switching positions mean it was time to find a place for me? I thought about the Mafia terminology that I’d heard Tony use on countless occasions.
It meant kill me
. I damn near lost my sanity. I let my eyes roll to the top of my head neva even utterin’ a word.

I thought I blacked out until I heard the voice say, “You like fuckin, huh?” he asked me.

It was the first thing I’d heard him say. Hopefully the last. But still, I remained silent.

“Answer me, Moulie!”

“Yes,” I whispered. I knew if I would’ve said, “No”, there’d be a price to pay, so I gave him the answer he wanted.

He pressed the gun deeper into my scalp with one hand, and pushed me down to my knees with the otha, the one that held the bulky class ring, fittin’ his huge hands snuggly. The hard floor pressed against my knees for just a few seconds until I was pushed again, but this time backwards, fallin’ onto my back. Everything moved so quickly. Before I could even struggle to get up, fatso had positioned himself on top of me, confinin’ me to the floor. He yanked at my hair ova and ova again, and even licked me a few times with his nasty, long tongue.

Suddenly, he switched up his hostage game. He used one hand to hold the gun, while he unbuttoned his pants buckle with the otha. It would’ve been the perfect time to
fight ’cause the gun was loosely held in his hand. My eyes darted around the room just seconds before I decided against a fight. Four against one was no match. I should’ve worn a more frightened expression, but my mind-set wouldn’t allow it. I wanted to cry but my glands refused. Maybe there was no water left. Maybe the ducts had dried up from cryin’ half of my life.

Before I could resist again, my sloppy intruder had dropped the gun beside the top of my head and was using both hands to yank at my hair again. He slapped me around a few times, yankin’ my dress up toward my belly button. It was at that moment, I knew there was a strong chance I wouldn’t make it out alive. His funky frame reeked alcohol, the cheap kind, makin’ me wanna throw up… Johnny Walker Red to be exact.

Next thing I knew, the fucker had ripped my dress at the sides all the way up to my torso. I screamed! “Ahhhhhhhhhhh,” but was hit in the jaw with a forceful blow.

“Please don’t,” I whimpered in a lighter tone. A violated tone. “I’ll do anythin’.”

“You sure will,” he roared back in his baritone voice.

“No… really, I’m beggin’ you,” I pleaded again. “Don’t do this!”

The feel of his dick near my openin’ made me sick to my stomach. Just as the nauseated feelin’ erupted, he pushed himself inside of me; hard and rough. Obviously, he didn’t care that he’d ripped a stitch down below. I screamed! “Ohhhhhh, nooooooooooo,” I cried out from the gruelin’ pain. My pussy was beyond dry.

His dick….dry, hard, and brittle, felt like hot rocks scrapin’ the walls of my uterus. My eyes remained in a daze yet stuck on his pale white ass bouncin’ up and down on top of me, but my mind was obviously somewhere else. The room seemed to spin, and the faces could no longer be made out. As
the tears welled up in my eyes, I fought hard to keep even one from fallin’. A soldier was what I was…and definitely one hell of a Madam.

He had my feet high in the air, and had a tight grip on my calves as he made ugly, go to hell faces. I blocked it all out until I saw a figure above movin’ closer. My enemy kept pumpin’ until his boy decided he wanted in on the action.

Paulie tapped his boy on the shoulder lettin’ him know it was time to switch. I saw him grinnin’, standin’ above us, playin’ with his zipper. Fat boy grunted and struggled to give two more pumps into my bruised treasure. Before long, he moaned a nasty moan and released his filthy sperm all inside of me.

Just like that, he freed my calves and lazily removed his heavy frame from between my achin’ legs. He even had a nerve to shoot me a grin, a grin that made me despise him even more. Even if I had a chance to run, there wasn’t a need in considerin’ it. It was all what I deserved. I’d chosen money ova my son.

Before long, I’d been fucked by three different men and saw the head guy, ready to take his turn. “I got next,” he whispered in a demented tone.

I closed my eyes, ready to die. I held my frightenin’ pose on the floor, lookin’ like I’d been beat to a pulp. My hair was all ova my head, my clothes torn, and my spirit broken. I could no longer see, but did manage to hear the sound of the front door openin’. I trembled, afraid that more men had shown up to sample my goods. The voices in the room all of a sudden ceased. I opened my eyes abruptly knowin’ I needed to see why they were so silent.

When my eyes zoomed in on Tony, I quickly closed them. Then re-opened just to be sure. The entire room froze while the expression on Tony’s face showed his disappointment. But it wasn’t the kick-ass look I expected after seein’
me on the floor with my legs wide open, and my pussy on the floor like it had been served up on a platter.

“What the fuck is this?” Tony asked in a deeper Italian accent than usual.

Even though he pointed in my direction with his palms upward, I couldn’t help but think,
you know what the fuck it is
!

“Get the fuck outta here,” he told them, and rushed toward me.

“Sure thing, Tone,” one of the guys uttered.

“This girl needs some rest,” he said, gazin’ down on me.

Rest
.
What the fuck would rest do for me
? I needed some payback! Yes, Tony had stopped them, but hell that wasn’t enough for me. I expected him to go the fuck off, defend me, fight for me, and take revenge. Shoot somebody, damn it! Instead, he just stood surveyin’ the room, and causin’ all mouths to remain zipped.

“Listen, we out Tony,” I heard Paulie say. “We got the money from the safe and from the girl.”

Tony shook his head in disbelief, then threw his head into the palms of his hands. I watched Paulie raise the plastic bag in the air that Cinnamon had given him. Right then, it was clear…she’d given him my stash from the vase. I placed my hands ova my face and cried like a baby. Cinnamon had got me. Got me good. And Tony seemed to let it all go without a fight. It was crazy how I’d really fallen for him.