Retribution (11 page)

I sit up on the edge of my desk. “Again,
you
saw it as an opportunity for
you
. So why did
you
feel the need to get information out of him, or anyone else about
me,
especially
after
I told you to leave it alone?”

She cuts her eyes at me. “Now wait a minute, Miss Pasha, girl. Don't you start showin' ya ass, sugah-boo. Somebody needed to get shit poppin' 'cause ya ass actin' all sugary ‘n' sweet like you scared to get them hands dirty. I know you ain't no pussy-soft bitch, Miss Pasha, girl.” She cuts her eyes over at Mona. “Unlike some bitches, you got street bitch in ya blood, sugah-boo. But you actin' like you all scared to pull her outta the closet. No, Miss Pasha, girl, it's time you pull that bitch out ‘n' turn up the gas on them niggas, goddammit. I know you said stay outta it. Sugah-boo,
boom!
Booty do what the fuck she want.

“And ain't no goddamn way I wasn't gonna stay outta shit when I ain't like how niggas was tryna do you. Don't no-goddamn-body shit on you. And I ain't like how that nigga-coon came up in here tellin' you to suck his dingaling. Why you think I told you I was gonna have my goonies be on alert when that Hill Harper-lookin' nigga came up in your shop ‘n' tried to do you? 'Cause the streets
were talkin', sugah-boo. And what they was sayin' wasn't cute. And neither was the shit Miss FeFe was tossin' up on you. So, like it or not, I did it 'cause you my damn boo, Miss Pasha, girl. Unlike some bitches, I'ma
loyal
bitch to the bone.”

“And if Miss Messy FeFe's messy ass wasn't poppin' her shit eaters 'bout you, maybe I woulda took it down a pinch. But that bitch couldn't wait to drag you e'ery which way. She did you filthy, sugah-boo. Tol' me all 'bout someone draggin' you for raunch in ya yard ‘n' tried to snatch ya breath. And how you ain't wanna get the police involved. That's when the lights started goin' off in my head, like you musta knew who tried to do you.

“And I was gonna let it go like you said until Messy FeFe told me about the strange phone calls you were gettin' from some nigga ‘n' how he kept callin' back to back…”

I blink. Fighting to keep my anger in check as she continues telling me how that bitch Felecia told her—instead of me—that one time when the nigga called back he demanded to let him speak to “that cum-suckin' bitch, Pasha.”

“That
bitch,
” I hiss, balling my fists.

“Unh-huh,” Booty says all animated. “Miss FeFe was doin' you, boo. And she tol' me how she thought you really were out there fuckin' other niggas behind Jasper's back. Then when you went missin' for three days, shit didn't make no sense. Something smelled real messy 'bout the whole situation. And you know I
know
messy when I see it.”

You should when it's staring you in the mirror every-damn-day.

“And speakin' of messy, I found out who the nigga is who came up in here and tried to do you.”

My heart starts pounding in my chest. That day flashes through my head and I immediately feel a headache coming on. I see the
nigga's face clearly. He was thuggish and young, like early twenties. And he had dreads and big round, brown eyes. “Yes, can I help you?” I asked, looking up from Booty's head. She was in my chair and I was removing her weave when he stepped to me at my workstation.

I remember how the nigga was eyeing me and licking his lips when he said, “Yeah, my man said if I came through, you'd hit me off with one of ya deep throat specials.”

At that moment it felt like everything froze in the salon. I could hear gasps and air being sucked in around me. All eyes were on me. I felt lightheaded. What the nigga said was true. I was known for giving out deep throat specials by those who had the pleasure of experiencing the warm, wet sensations my dick sucking skills delivered, which is why my AOL account stayed flooded with horny men asking for repeat service. But I couldn't admit that shit. And I couldn't stand there and let that nigga pull my card in front of everyone like that. So I did what any self-righteous diva in my position would do. I went the hell off. Told him to get the fuck out of my salon. Told him to go back and get his facts straight because he had the wrong one. Oh, yes…when all else fails, go off!

He backed his way out of the salon when Felecia came at him with a bat. But that didn't stop the nigga from grabbing his crotch and telling me to suck his dick, before running out of the salon. I ran to the door, yelling and cursing him as he ran down the street.

That motherfucker had pulled my ho-card and rattled my nerves. Had my stomach in knots. Then I had to walk back into
my
salon with my head held high, trying like hell to ignore the questioning glances and the nerve-wrecking silence as I sashayed back over to my workstation to finish up Cassandra's hair.

I take a deep breath, flicking the memory out of my head, glancing
at Booty. “How? When?” She tells me she met him through someone else down at the Crack House one night while she was out having drinks.

“I ain't know who the coon-nigga was at first. But I knew I had seen him somewhere before. One thing I don't ever do is, forget a face. Once I figured out who he was,
boom-boom,
goddammit! I knew I hit the jackpot. We tossed back a few drinks, then I had the bitch-ass coon pull out his dingdong…”

Ugh!
I roll my eyes, shaking my head.

Mona shifts in her seat, frowning.

“Now, wait one minute. I know you bitches ain't tryna do me, goddammit. Shit, you know it ain't no shame in my game. I love me some dingdong. And the nigga was talkin' like it was all this ‘n' that, so I tol' him to show ‘n' prove. Ole stumpy-thick dick nigga-bitch. But I started fishin' him ‘n' he gave it to me good. Yes, gawd…”

“Cassandra!” I snap. “Will you just move this along,
please
. Just tell me who the hell nigga is.”

She shoots me a dirty look. “Unh-uh, Miss Pasha, girl. Don't. Do. It. 'Cause you know I ain't one of them messy bitches. But you tryna take me there. So how 'bout
you
tell us if you'se a cum whore or not, like Miss FeFe and this nigga said you was since you ain't never really say if the shit was true or not. And
then
I'ma tell you who the nigga is. But know this, sugah-boo, when I tol' the nigga that you was a real dirty bitch for that shit and that you shoulda had yo' ass whooped for that…”

I blink.

“You wanna know what that coon-nigga said? He said, and I quote, ‘Real shit, she did. She got fucked up real good.' ”

Everything inside of me cracks. I feel myself becoming fucking
undone. “Booty, who the fuck is he? I'm not in the mood for all your long drawn-out theatrics.”

Of course she's not fazed by what I've said. The bitch ignores me, sliding a fingernail through her front tooth, then flicking something to the floor from beneath her nail.

I let out a frustrated sigh,
“Welllll.”

She reaches for her bag on the desk and pulls out a pack of gum. I swear I don't know how much more of this shit I can take with her and her dramatics. I don't know how much longer I can hold on before the tears come bursting from my own eyes.

“Booty, stop dragging this shit out. Tell me who this nigga is.”

I eye her as she rolls the stick of gum in her mouth. “Sugah-boo, his name is AJ. And the nigga's on ya dirty-ass husband's payroll.” She chomps on her gum. “Now was
you
suckin' dingaling or not?”

Secrets can chain a bitch's soul to her own misery…

“Y
es,” I say, my voice dropping to a guilty whisper, admitting my dick-sucking sins to her and Mona. This is the first time I've confessed to anyone.

Mona gives me a surprised look. “Oh, God, no. Why, girl?”

Cassandra sucks her teeth, then dramatically rolls her eyes. “Obviously, she loves suckin' dick. Oooh, I ain't wanna believe the shit was true, Miss Pasha, girl. But I knew you wasn't no Miss Goodie-Two Shoes. Yesssss, goddammit! You ole sneaky whore.” She glances at her timepiece, plopping down on the sofa next to Mona. “Ooooh, I need me a drank ‘n' a blunt on this one.”

I can feel tension coiling through my body. I run my hands through my hair, then along my neck as I try to explain it to Mona in a way that doesn't sound too crazy. “I got caught out there. I loved Jasper. And I jailed with him the best I could. It was hard. And unless you've done a bid with a nigga, you won't really be able to understand. It got lonely. My hormones got the best of me. I just needed, wanted, something to take the edge off until he got home.

“I knew what I was doing was wrong. I rationalized it in my head. Deluded myself into thinking that sucking dick wasn't really
cheating as long as I didn't let any of those niggas fuck me. I justified it by reminding myself of all the times Jasper had crept out on me and had his dick stuffed down in some bitch's throat, and he'd tell me getting his dick sucked wasn't
really
cheating.”

Mona frowns. “And you believed that dumb shit?”

“Of course I didn't. But I tried—”

“Miss Pasha, girl, fuck the
whys
, sugah-boo. All I wanna know is, did you swallow? Or was you wastin' good nut, boo?”

Mona lets out a disgusted sigh. “Ugh! What the fuck?! Who the hell cares whether or not she swallowed. The fact is that she was out there sucking dick and
cheating
on Jasper.” She cuts her eyes over at me. “Did you even know any of these niggas?”

Avery's dick pops into my mind.
“She half-sucks my dick.”
I shake my head. “No.”

“Booga-coon,
boom!”
Cassandra snaps, cutting her eyes over at Mona. “You sound like you tryna judge her. So what, she was guzzlin' up dick. And
what?
Jasper's coon-ass is the same nigga who stayed cheatin' on her. Get it right, sweetness. That nigga-coon been slingin' his dingaling all around Jersey for years. All Miss Pasha did was finally go out ‘n' get her a lil taste. So what if she was suckin' dick down like steamed oysters? Please. His black cheatin' ass was behind the wall, any-damn-way. A locked-up dick can't do shit for a wet, horny cootie-coo. And who got time to be acceptin' collect calls for some phone fuck. Booga-coon,
boom!

“You good, Miss Pasha, girl, 'cause I woulda gave that nigga his papers ‘n' tol' him to come see me when his ass hit the bricks. Ain't no way Booty puttin' no pussy on hold for no nigga. Not the way I like to ride down on some dingdong. But anyway…this ain't 'bout me, sugah-boo. This is 'bout you and ya cum-guzzlin' ways. Oooh, I knew you was real gutter with it. A real live cum-whore, yessss, goddammit!”

I ignore her theatrics. “I admit that what I did was wrong. But what Jasper had done to me as his way of
teaching
me a
lesson
is something I'd never wish on my fucking enemy. I see and hear and feel everything that happened to me. The shit is etched into my memory. And every time I look at Jasper, I see what that nigga did to me.”

I don't tell them this. But there are times when I see my reflection in the mirror and I don't even recognize the bitch staring back at me. The sparkle in my hazel eyes is gone. All I see is dimness. Darkness. A shell of a woman.

I blink back hot tears, closing my eyes, trying to shut back the well of emotions as I regurgitate every last dirty little detail.

• • •

There's a nigga standing in front of me with his face inches from mine. And I can tell he is a fucking, certified, raving lunatic. That's what's running through my head. He's not the one from earlier. Or the nigga whose balls I bit. Or the two who kidnapped me. But, whoever he is, this motherfucker is a fucking loose cannon. He's yelling and spitting in my face, practically foaming at the mouth. I can smell weed and alcohol on his breath. I want to scream, but I am unable to. My throat is dry and raw. My neck is aching. And I have pissed all over myself. I glance around the basement. A sliver of light seeps through the small window along the wall. That's the only way I know it's daylight—a new day. And I'm still alive.

“You dirty, cock-suckin', cum slut! You stink, you pissy bitch! I should beat the shit outta you. You like feelin' a hard dick in your throat, whore? I heard you suck a mean dick. You like makin' a muhfucka's toes curl, don't you? Like teasin' him 'til he can't take it anymore, then tossin' a muhfucka to the side when you have no more use for him, don't you, bitch? Answer ME!”

I rapidly shake my head. “N-no, that's not what I like to do. I—”

“Liar!” he yells, pulling out a box-cutter from his back pocket. He presses its blade to my neck. “I will cut out your muthafuckin' tongue and stuff it down in your goddamn, rotted-ass throat. You stupid, lying bitch!”

“Please,” I whimper, forcing myself to fight back tears. “Don't hurt me. If you want money, I can get it for you.”

He swings his arm back, then slaps me with a force that rattles my jaw, makes my face throb. My ears ring. “Bitch, I don't want your fuckin' money. I want your lips on my dick. I want you drinkin' my nuts. Swallowin' my babies, you filthy, whore-ass bitch! And, if you suck my dick like the good, little cunt you are, I might let you live to suck another dick. But if you don't, I'm gonna slice ya muthafuckin' throat. Then set ya pretty ass on fire. You understand me, bitch?”

I stare him down. The nigga is a pyscho. I'm fucking exhausted, frightened out of my damn mind and dying of thirst. Yeah, I keep punking out and begging for any of these niggas not to hurt me because—truth be told, I want to get the fuck out of here alive. But, right now I am so damn tired and hungry and goddamned agitated that I am not thinking when I decide to give this nigga a piece of my mind. Whatever he plans to do to me is what he plans on doing, regardless. I've already sucked two niggas' dicks, and that shit's got me nowhere. So, I decide to test him. There's a part of me that needs to push the envelope far enough to see exactly how much of a walking bomb this nigga really is. Is he all bluff and fluff or is he the type of nigga who's really about getting it in?