Stealing Candy (12 page)

So Gianna stopped running.

She also forced herself to stop thinking about her parents. There was no hope of ever being rescued… of ever being reunited with her family.

She belonged to Bullet, and was growing accustomed to trading sex for pay.

The hardest part of her day was keeping Bullet satisfied. Trying to not give him a reason to hit her or do the other cruel things he did for fun.

But her compliance to his wishes didn’t matter. Bullet still tormented her, instilling fear by tying her to trees in secluded areas and shooting rounds over her head, using her for target practice. Scaring her out of her wits—keeping her in line.

Now Gianna leaned against the metal door, her rain-slicked hair plastered to her face.

Bullet held a large black umbrella over his head. His full attention was on Brielle, but Gianna wasn’t even tempted to run. With the diaper bag slung over her shoulder, she waited to be let inside.

She held Samantha close, providing warmth and protection from the rain. Gianna loved babies and used to pretend that she was the mommy of the toddlers she used to babysit during the summer vacations in Ocean City.

Brielle stood stubbornly near the car, unfazed by the steady drizzle of rain. “I don’t know what this is about, but that girl shouldn’t be holding my daughter.”

Bullet’s eyes sparked with anger. “Fuck your daughter.”

“Oh, God,” Brielle said, her voice a long screech of disbelief. “Please. Don’t do this. Give me my baby.” She stretched out her arms, wiggling her fingers anxiously.

The baby was sleeping peacefully, but Gianna rocked her anyway. Gently…comfortingly, hoping to ease some of Brielle’s anxiety. It was the least she could do.

Bullet sneered. “Bitch, please. Get yo’ ass back in the damn car. Lollipop gon’ take care of the baby while me and you take care of some business.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Brielle started striding quickly toward her child. Bullet caught her by the scruff of her collar. Using the butt of the gun, he bashed her on the side of her face.

Brielle dropped like a rag doll, her body splayed on the wet concrete.

Gianna’s heart sped. “Is she dead?”

Bullet flashed her a look of annoyance. “Can a dead bitch sell ass for me?”

“No.” Gianna nibbled on her fingernail, eyes shifting downward.

“Aiight, then. Stop asking dumb-ass questions.” Shaking his head at the ridiculousness of Gianna’s inquiry, Bullet took out a key ring and opened the door.

Without instruction, Gianna went inside. Being held captive inside different storage spaces in the Philadelphia area had become routine.

Pulling Brielle by her wrists, Bullet dragged her across concrete. Gianna gawked at Brielle’s bloody face, and then quickly looked away with a shudder.

Carefully, she placed the baby’s blanket on top of the lumpy, stained mattress that was on the floor—the mattress where she had been turning tricks for the past few days.

She scrounged inside the baby’s diaper bag until she found a bottle of milk. She wanted the milk close at hand. Who knew what Bullet would do if Samantha awakened, screaming from hunger?

Bullet tossed Brielle onto the mattress. He frowned at her sprawled body and then grunted in disgust when he observed the gash in her face.

“Damn! How dis bitch gon’ make me some money with her mug all dented up? Damn!”

Gianna dug a hand into the diaper bag and retrieved a wipe.

“Did I tell you to make a move?” Bullet snarled.

Her hand was poised to clean the blood from Brielle’s face, but Bullet’s growl stilled her.

“She’s bleeding.”

“So!”

“I was going to clean the wound.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Oh, you a doctor all of a sudden?”

“No.”

“A paramedic?”

“No, I’m not a paramedic,” she responded in a shaky whisper.

“I know you ain’t no paramedic. You a ho. The only thing you need to be concerned with is getting my money.”

“You’re right.” She forced a “what was I thinking” smile, convincing Bullet that she was grateful for the reality check.

With a look of self-satisfaction, Bullet sauntered over to a plastic lawn chair. The scruffy mattress and the green plastic chair were the only items in the storage space. Gianna’s wardrobe, a scant collection of hooker wear, was kept in the trunk of Bullet’s car.

He tinkered with his cell phone, checking messages, frowning, and then scrolling through his address list.

After a series of beeps, he said, “Yo, Flashy. I need a favor, man.”

A twinge of apprehension worked its way down Gianna’s spine. Flashy was one of Bullet’s prison buddies. She’d never met him, but she knew he usually assisted whenever Bullet called him. And Bullet didn’t call for ordinary favors.

“Straight up. Don’t I always take care of you?” Bullet growled into his cell phone.

Gianna held her breath. Maybe Flashy would show some humanity, stand up to Bullet, and refuse to assist in his corrupt and immoral deeds.

“Money ain’t no thing,” Bullet roared, indignant. “Look, I gotta dump a car. And I got another serious issue. I’ll get at you in a minute so we can put our heads together.”

Her hopes dashed, Gianna picked up Samantha. She clutched the sweet-smelling baby to her chest. Her lips brushed the top of the baby’s head, affectionately. She had no idea what favor Bullet needed from his jail friend, but she had a hunch he had a devious plan that involved the baby. She didn’t wish any further harm to Brielle, but she felt much more protective toward the innocent baby.

“Hand me the baby,” Bullet said, his tone a low drone, as though he were asking Gianna to pass the salt.

“Um…” Cradling little Samantha, her hands shaking, Gianna struggled to control her anxiety. She shot a worried glance at the baby’s unconscious mother.

“What you lookin’ at her for? That bitch is knocked out. But even if she was wide awake, I don’t need to ask her permission.” Bullet made a disgusted, hissing sound at her. “I’ma muthafuckin’ pimp.”

Afraid for the baby’s safety, her lips started to tremble. “I can take care of Samantha until Brielle is feeling better.” She smiled down at the baby. “I…I took Child Life classes in school.”

“I don’t give a fuck!”

“I babysat for neighbors. For extra money.” Her voice took on a desperate tone. “I’m really good with babies.” She nodded her head, strengthening her case.

“Is you crazy? Didn’t I tell you to gimme dat goddamn baby!” With savage force, Bullet ripped Samantha from Gianna’s arms. He tucked the wriggling baby under an armpit, like he was holding a football.

Gianna gaped at Bullet, shocked by his careless handling of the young child.

“Whatchu staring at?” The fury in his eyes intimidated her into shifting her gaze downward.

“Nothing,” she mumbled, suppressing a natural desire to protect a defenseless infant.

Samantha kicked out her little legs in protest and made tiny yelping sounds. Then she took a deep breath that signaled the coming of a full-blown wail. Her scream echoed.

“Shut the fuck up!” Bullet snapped at the baby.

Samantha screamed louder. Struggling, her small chubby fingers tore at Bullet’s shirt, fighting the brute of a man whom Gianna didn’t have the guts to lift a finger to.

Brielle moaned in response to her baby’s wail. Her eyelids fluttered. Fighting for consciousness, her moans grew stronger. Her bleary eyes cracked open into slits. Blinking in confusion, she tried to push herself up on an elbow. With a low groan, she flopped down.

Bullet sneered at the groggy, teenage mother. He tossed Gianna a knife.

Reflexively, she caught it.

“Shank her if she tries to get out of hand,” Bullet ordered, pointing at Brielle.

“Okay,” she said agreeably, though she wanted to shed tears. Her life had taken another bad turn. Now her captor wanted her to resort to violence, expecting her to wield the very weapon he had used to torment her with before he’d purchased the deadly gun.

Gianna held the knife loosely.

“Don’t act stupid. If she gets feisty, you know what to do. Poke a hole in that bitch.”

“I will,” she said with a tremor.

“Convince me.”

Gianna could feel tears welling, but repressed the urge to cry.
Nervously, she bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I’ll put it to you like this…”

The baby shrieked; her arms flailed as she tried to get to her mother. Bullet gave the child a forceful shake, shocking her into a brief silence.

“When I get back; she better be ready to rock and roll. If I gotta waste time whooping that ass in order for her to make me some money, ain’t gon’ be no more target practice for you.” He shook his head grimly. “Nah, no more target practice. It’s gon’ get real. I’ma put some hot lead in your shoulder…or maybe your arm. Or leg.”

Gianna legs were ready to buckle as she imagined getting shot in one of them.

“I know a coupla people who real good at digging out bullets and patching the hole up with cotton balls and shit.”

She clenched her teeth together to keep them from chattering.

“Tell that ho that I expect her to make me ten stacks. That’s how much I expect it’s gon’ cost me to feed her and pay somebody to take care of this youngin’. After she’s paid up in full, she can have her brat back.”

The baby cried and fought mightily as Bullet strode toward the door.

With renewed strength, Brielle shot upright. She looked around, uncomprehending as she scanned the barren storage unit. Her eyes landed on the pink diaper bag.

“My baby!” she gasped.

Too late.

 
 CHAPTER 13

Bullet was already outside, clanging the lock into place. The baby’s cries became distant. Muted.

Brielle shot across the concrete floor, racing toward the door. Wildly, she kicked the sturdy door, making anguished sounds as she banged her body against it to no avail.

She whirled around. “You bitch! You let him take my baby!” Hands clawing the air, she dashed toward Gianna.

Survival instinct kicked in. Gianna steadied her hand and held up the knife. She had no choice. She had to subdue Brielle or feel the heat of Bullet’s scorn.

“You better back the fuck up,” Gianna spat, the venom in her voice halting Brielle.

Brielle’s sandals skidded on the concrete as she came to an abrupt halt. She looked stricken, but Gianna didn’t feel an ounce of pity for the young mother. Brielle was her enemy.

Seeming to sense that Gianna would not hesitate to use the knife, Brielle looked around helplessly, and then spoke in a controlled whisper. “Where did he take Samantha?”

“That ain’t none of your business.” Gianna stepped forward, her stance confrontational, her tone belligerent. Mimicking Bullet, she was deliberately irrational; using bad grammar, wielding a weapon…absurdly angry. Bullet would be proud.

Confused, Brielle blinked rapidly. “My baby is my business.”

“Not anymore. That baby belongs to Bullet now.”

“No! Samantha is my child!” Breathing in rapid pants, she patted her chest several times.

“If you want her back, you gotta work for Bullet.” Gianna now spoke in a droning tone. She was speaking on Bullet’s behalf. Her own personal emotions, thoughts, and beliefs were removed from the conversation.

“Okay.” Lines of desperation creased Brielle’s forehead. She wiped blood from her face, but didn’t seem concerned about her condition. “He forgot Samantha’s diaper bag. She’s probably wet and hungry.”

“Fuck dat.” Gianna pointed the knife near the open wound on her face.

Brielle recoiled. “Oh, God!”

“That lil’ cut on your face ain’t about nothing. Bullet only gave you a love tap with his gun. But if you fuck with me, I’m gon’ poke you up and let you bleed like a stuck pig.” She was channeling Bullet. Her new persona was starting to feel natural.

Brielle was afraid of her and Gianna was afraid of getting shot.

Tears filled Brielle’s eyes. “I just want my baby back. Her clothes, food, and extra diapers are in the trunk of my car.”

“He’ll pop the trunk when he moves your car.”

“He’s moving my car?”

“Uh-huh. Bullet said you can’t get your car or your baby back ’til after you pay your tab.”

“My tab!”

Gianna nodded. “Bullet’s a pimp. He caught you,” Gianna said in a matter-of-fact tone. “He gon’ keep you until you pay the cost of feeding you and taking care of your baby.”

“How much is that?”

“Ten stacks.”

“He wants me to pay him ten thousand dollars?”

“That’s what he said. So you better cooperate. If you make Bullet mad, he’ll kick your ass and jack the price up.”

“He expects me to be a prostitute?” Brielle asked, her expression both shocked and pained.

“Yup,” Gianna replied, ignoring the horrified look in Brielle’s eyes.

“I can’t—”

“It won’t take long to get the money,” Gianna said encouragingly. Feeling empathy, and allowing a fragment of her personality to come through.

“Do you know where he took my baby?”

“No, and that’s enough talking. When Bullet comes back, you gotta prove that you can suck some dick. Don’t make him pull out his gun. Just act like you’re happy to see him and show him how well you can work your head game.”