Flirt (18 page)

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Authors: Tracy Brown

Tags: #Fiction, #Anthologies (Multiple Authors), #Urban, #African American

BOOK: Flirt
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“Randy, get yo ass back to the bar before Jackie comes over here tripping,” I shooed him.

“Whatever, Gina—ain’t no telling who or what that snake-ass nigga is doing right about now. I don’t see him over here with you handling business.”

“Watch it, Randy,” I warned him.

“They say that a little truth is good for the soul.” Randy snapped his finger twice. “You better get on your job, Gina, before you find yourself on the unemployment line.” Randy switched back over to the bar. He took a minute to say something slick to a guy who was sitting at the bar before fixing two drinks and taking the stool beside him. My brother was off the hook.

He’d hit a sore spot when he brought up Jackie. I had just about worked myself so hard that I forgot about how he shitted on me when he came in. I could’ve slapped the shit out of that skinny bitch Kim for trying to style on me in my own club, but I had to be the bigger woman. This was Jackie’s big night, and I didn’t want to ruin it, but Ms. Plastic Titties and I were definitely gonna have some words, and deep down in my heart, I hoped that she broke fly so I could let out some of this stress on her ass. Jackie might not have respected me, but his bitches damn sure would.

I don’t know if I was madder at him or me over this craziness. Every fiber of my being told me Jackie was bad news and that I needed to get away from him, but still I stayed. Why? Shit, I’m still trying to figure it out myself. I loved Jackie, but it wasn’t that deep passionate love that I used to have for him.
When the fire for me in his heart died, I tried to make mine burn hot enough for both of us, but in the end, it was proving to be too much.

One of the girls came over and handed me a purple drink. I looked over toward the bar, and Randy raised his glass in salute before he and the man he’d been talking to slipped discreetly out the fire door that led to the alley on the side of the club. Looking at the man, you’d have never guessed he was a switch-hitter, but I guessed there was a little queen inside everybody. Pushing aside thoughts of Jackie and my crumbling marriage, I sipped my drink and watched Princess do her thing.

 

ELEVEN
Princess

 

 

I
danced for three songs and halfway into a fourth when they finally pulled me off the stage. I had those tricks giving it up when I hit the scene, on my Brooklyn bullshit. The way these Harlem niggaz loved to trick bread, I couldn’t see why all these bitches weren’t pushing fly whips.

I took a second to stop by the bar to see Randy, but the girl told me he was on break. I ordered a Grey Goose and cranberry before scribbling my number on a napkin and asking the girl to give it to Randy when he came back. After sipping half my drink, I made my rounds, giving out lap dances and chatting with some of the guys who were spending. I ended up collecting
another five hundred dollars from them before I went to the back to freshen up so I could hit them again. On my way, I caught Tashee giving the Puerto Rican bouncer a blow job in the hallway. From the way she was slurping and lapping at his rod, I hoped her jaws wouldn’t be too tired for the contest. Ignoring them, I went into the dressing room and was rewarded by a far more alarming sight.

The skinny girl with the plastic titties was laying on her back on top of one of the vanity tables. Between her legs, drilling for oil, was Jackie. He hit her with quick, deep strokes while calling her everything but a child of God in his lust-driven frenzy. “Yeah, you like that, right bitch.” He dug deeper while she hollered. He flipped her over and took a minute to lick her from her pussy to her ass crack before entering her from behind.

I couldn’t help but be a little turned on by the way he was attacking her. Jackie’s cock made a squishing sound every time it dipped in and out of her, and I could see juices dripping down the back of Kim’s legs. The way she was coming, he had to be tearing the pussy up. Without even realizing that I was doing it, I slipped my hand into my thong and began playing with my clit. It started off with one finger, but before I knew it, two more had joined the party. My hand was getting soaked as I jacked myself off in time with Jackie stroking Kim. I was so caught up in my own rapture that I hadn’t even realized they’d finished until I heard Jackie’s mocking voice.

“Damn, you didn’t have to do all that. We had room for one more.” He smiled devilishly. His thick cock was dangling out of
his zipper, bobbing up and down when he moved. It looked like an onyx carving, slick with Kim’s cum.

I was embarrassed, but way too cool to show it in front of them. I took my hand out of my pants and examined it under the light. There was a ring of white foam around my knuckles, and my fingers were slick with my juices. I looked directly at Jackie and Kim before licking my fingers one at a time. “Nah, I did just fine on my own.”

Ignoring the lustful look Jackie was giving me, and the worried one coming from Kim, I walked to the other side of the room and proceeded to towel-dry my body and wipe my pussy and under my arms with a sanitary napkin. I was applying a fresh coat of deodorant when Jackie sauntered over.

“So what’s up?” he asked.

“I told you earlier, not a damn thing.”

Jackie hesitated for a minute, and I knew he was looking for another angle. “So, how long you and Gina known each other? I thought I’d met all of her friends.”

“We’ve known each other since I was a shorty.” I gave him my back while I checked my makeup in my compact. Just over my shoulder, I saw Jackie’s predatory eyes traveling the length of my body. I tried to ignore him, but I couldn’t stop my skin from crawling.

“I hear that. So—”

“Look, I’m trying to get back out there and get my paper on, so why don’t you stop bullshitting me and get to the point.” I looked at him seriously.

“A’ight, bet. Dig this: I’m the owner of this joint, so I set the
tempo. It can be a real sweet ride or a sour one, depending on how you play it,” he said frankly.

I cut my eyes at him. “Jackie, first of all, this ain’t the only club in town, so don’t come over here talking that brolic shit like I’m supposed to be moved by it. Second of all, Gina is my homegirl, but I ain’t into breaking up nobody’s home, especially if ain’t no bread coming my way in the situation. I’m in here trying to get my paper up, and I don’t need no problems.”

Jackie smiled. “So we understand each other.” Jackie reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. He peeled off ten crisp hundreds and dropped them on the bench next to me. “I trust you didn’t see anything?”

“All I see is green, daddy-o,” I assured him, stuffing the money into my bag.

“That’s what’s up, ma. You know if you ever decided that you wanted to—”

“Jackie, you’re really pushing it right now.”

“Okay, okay.” He threw his hands up in surrender. “Come see me later on, and I’ll buy you a bottle.”

I watched Jackie strut out of there with his whore on his heels and found that I was sick to my stomach. I’m not justifying what Jackie did, but men have been cheating since the beginning of time and would continue to do so until the lights went out. Still, I couldn’t stand a tactless muthafucka. Not only was he fucking one of his employees at the workplace, with his wife in the next room, but that bastard had the nerve to be doing her raw. I hoped that Gina was smart enough to protect herself, because that nigga was an STD waiting to happen.

 

_______

 

When I came out of the back, the dick-sucking contest was already under way. Tashee, along with five other girls, were lined up on their knees with six guys lining the wall. The dude Tashee had been paired with was hung like a tree trunk, but Tashee stuffed that cock in her mouth like it was the Last Supper, and the spectators went wild. Even I had to clap at the way my girl was handling her business. I was so caught up in the show that I didn’t even feel him walk up on me until he grabbed me roughly by the arm and spun me around.

“Remember me, bitch?” Slim snarled. Seeing him standing in front of me, I wished those D-boys would’ve broken his legs instead of his hand.

All I could say was, “Damn,” before the shit hit the fan.

 

TWELVE
Gina

 

 

I
t was the third time in the last week. The third time Jackie had let the sun catch his black ass outside this door. The night of the grand opening, we had gotten into a big blowout over what happened to Princess that ended up getting physical. Jackie slapped me, and I slapped his ass right back. When he looked like he was about to take it to the next level, I grabbed the water I’d been boiling for my tea and promised him on my mother’s grave that I would douse his ass if he laid hands on me again. He stormed out of the house and had been coming and going sporadically ever since.

Aretha was playing softly in my CD player, and when “Tracks of My Tears” came on, I had to raise my fist in salute. On the outside I wore a smile, but if you looked close enough at my soul, you could tell it was out of place. Every time Jackie shitted on me in public, I plastered the phony smile on, but inside I was crying like a baby. It seemed like every little thing was an excuse to distance himself from me, and the incident with Princess might’ve been the final straw.

Princess and her boyfriend had gotten into a big fistfight, and the club had to be shut down early, and of course, it was my fault. I didn’t invite her to the club, but because we were friends, Jackie tossed the blame on me. I guess any excuse was good enough if it could get him out of his own bed and into that of one of his whores. I didn’t really give a shit that he had an attitude; Princess was like family.

I didn’t see the blow that started the fight, but by the time José and me got there, the guy was beating Princess like a man. She got in several good licks of her own, but she was no match for him. Just before he could stomp her out, José had snatched him off his feet and started kicking his ass. Big José and his crew took that boy out to the alley with every intention of making him disappear, but Princess begged for his life. I felt so bad that I became hysterical over my friend, and when she crawled on her hands and knees and begged José not to finish him, the knife in my heart was twisted even deeper. Though I tried to tell myself I took it so hard because of how he had beaten Princess, it was really because I saw myself in her.

Randy and I had both been calling her for days to make sure she was okay, but we kept getting the voice mail, or her boyfriend would answer and say that she couldn’t come to the phone. I thought about calling the police, but I didn’t have any contact information for Princess other than her cell phone number. I felt like I was beating a dead horse when I tried her cell again, but to my surprise she picked up this time.

 

THIRTEEN
Princess

 

 

F
or the past few days, I’ve been a prisoner to my heart, my body, and my apartment. Slim’s was the last face I’d expected to see at Paradise, but I should’ve known my karma would come back around. I fought the good fight, but ended up getting my ass kicked. When the big Puerto Rican kid had grabbed Slim, I thought God had sent me an angel. I was okay with Slim getting his ass beat, but when the Puerto Rican cat was going to shoot him, I broke down. I must’ve looked like a damn fool, crawling on my hands and knees, begging for the life of someone who had been trying to kill me a few minutes
prior, but when you’re in love, other people’s opinions go out the window, even if you
are
making a damn fool of yourself.

I pulled myself out of bed, ignoring the aches and pains that plagued my body. Thankfully, Slim wasn’t home, so I’d be able to have a little time for myself. I opened the refrigerator, and of course, there wasn’t anything in it but some old Chinese food and a half-empty bottle of red Alizé. Slim drank so much of that shit that it was a wonder his piss didn’t come out red, because his shit sure as hell did. I left the Chinese food and curled up on the couch with the Alizé.

Truth be told, I sometimes wished Slim dead. I envisioned me taking one of those damn red Alizé bottles and caving his pointy-ass skull in, and a time or two, I’d come close to doing it, but my heart always stayed my hand. I’ve been running the streets since I was a shorty and have come across some real boss niggaz. They showered me with paper and promises, but when they’d outlived their usefulness, I cut them off without batting an eye. They were little more than a means to an end, but Slim fucked the game up for me. I let him into my heart, and in return he stomped and pissed on it every chance he got. I’d seen this movie a thousand times with my friends, but still managed to nominate myself for the part of Best Supporting Actress. For as long as my heart continued to trump my common sense, I would be a prisoner. I totally understood why the caged bird sang.

I heard the muffled ring of my phone, but had no idea where it was because Slim hid it from me before he left. He called his self putting me on punishment, but his dumb ass didn’t think to
turn it off before he hid it. I found it under the cushion just before my voice mail kicked in.

“Hello?”

“Princess?” a familiar voice asked.

“Oh, hi, Gina,” I said sheepishly. After what I’d caused at her husband’s club, I had been too embarrassed to speak to her.

“Girl, me and Randy have been trying to reach you all week. We were worried sick.” She was genuinely concerned. It was nice to have someone give a shit about me, because my man sure didn’t. “We thought that maybe . . .”

“Nah, he hasn’t killed me . . . yet.” I tried to laugh it off, but it was no joke.

“Baby, how long has this been going on?”

I sighed. “Too long, Gina, too long.”

“Princess, I had no idea that you were involved with an abusive man. Did you tell Audrey, or your mother?”

“No, they don’t know, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t say anything. I don’t want to worry them,” I told her, but it was more like I didn’t want them to call my uncle Bo. He was an old-school gangsta that was still putting in work at the age of fifty-five. There was no doubt that if word of this got back to him, there’d be no amount of begging that could save Slim.

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