Stealing Candy (26 page)

But after coming to the realization that Skittles and Bubbles, in their medicated state, were better off than she was, Gianna ended her silence. She moaned, squealed, and grunted with fervor. Her vocalized pain sounded very much like a wounded animal.

She hoped her wailing would result in merciful relief of the throbbing in her jaw and the end of the torment of living in captivity. She prayed that her groans would encourage Flashy to suggest that she be given the same drug cocktail that Skittles and Bubbles were given.

“Oh, my God!” Flashy responded, dropping the ice pack. “Why the hell is she going off like this? Maybe you broke her jaw.”

Enthusiastically agreeing with Flashy, Gianna bobbed her head up and down with the hope that she would be given some pills and quickly taken out of her misery.

Bullet sneered at her. “I ain’t break nothing. I would have heard the bone pop, if I had cracked her jaw.”

Gianna amped up her routine, whimpering and whining pitifully.

“Shut the fuck up!” Bullet demanded. “Put that shit back on her face so the swelling can go down.”

Defiant, Gianna continued moaning and violently thrashing. Though she couldn’t open her mouth wide enough to raise the volume of her cries, her lament increased in intensity.

Cringing as if afraid to touch her, Flashy gingerly reapplied the ice pack to her face. “Maybe you fractured it. If so, I don’t know a damn thing about fixing no shit like that, so don’t even try to go there.”

“Do I look like a fuckin’ idiot? I ain’t fracture her jaw. Why would I break up the face of a good, dick-suckin’ bitch? Huh? What kind of sense does that make?”

Flashy curled his lips in disapproval. “I can’t figure out why you
keep fucking these girls up the way you do. Ain’t no hope for a hustlin’ backward nigga like you,” he taunted.

The verbal jab caused Bullet to blink several times. “Ain’t nobody hustlin’ backward. You better watch your mouth before I put my fist in it.”

“I ain’t worried about you, Bullet. A little pain might be a turn-on. You wanna hit me, Daddy?” Flashy teased.

“Stop playing, man. I don’t even get down like that no more.”

“I know. You got Skittles playing my part, and it has been duly noted,” Flashy commented snippily.

“Man, we ain’t locked up no more. We bulls now. We friends.”

“Whatever. I don’t see where I’m getting anything out of our so-called friendship.”

“Don’t I always hook you up?”

“With dribs and drabs. I’m still waiting for the big payday you promised.” Flashy planted his hand on his hip. “By the way, you owe the babysitter ninety dollars for Pampers, baby food, and shit.”

“Damn! Every time I turn around, you hittin’ me up for more money for that fuckin’ baby.”

“That little crumb snatcher costs money to keep in good health.”

Gianna’s ears perked up at the mention of the baby. Despite her own physical pain, she felt a degree of relief in knowing the baby was still safe and sound.

“When you sell that damn baby, we can both start living better.”

“If you would stop being so stubborn and bring the price down, I can make it happen. Until then…” Flashy’s voice trailed off.

“See, that’s your problem. You not thinking big enough. You listening to them small-time niggas who think on a small scale. You need to put out feelers. Why don’t you put the baby up on Craigslist or something? Ain’t that where the freaks wheel and deal?”

Flashy’s face twisted into a grimace. “Fuck that! I’m not putting myself in a position to have the FBI tracking me down with their sophisticated computer technology.”

“Yo, I’m gon’ handle selling that baby as soon as I get some extra time. Just take care of Lollipop’s jaw…make the swelling go down, so she can work tonight.”

“Umph,” Flashy grunted in dissatisfaction.

“I’ll break you off and pay the babysitter when my hoes bring me some dough tonight.”

Flashy sighed. “Why are you so hard-headed? How is Lollipop going to work her magic if she can’t hardly open up her mouth?”

“Trust, she gon’ open her mouth. She gon’ open up wide and suck as many dicks as I tell her to. Ain’t that right, Lollipop?”

Opening her mouth was not possible, so Gianna nodded her head in agreement.

Bullet was working himself into a rage of fury. Gianna had no choice but to agree with his outrageous claim—or deal with his wrath.

Flashy shook his head. “Open your eyes, fool! Her mouth is out of commission. Lollipop is gonna have to work on her back tonight.”

“No, the hell she’s not!”

“What’s the problem? You don’t like sharing Lollipop’s little pussy hole?” Flashy said with undisguised jealousy.

“It ain’t even like that.”

“Then why can’t she switch up her routine and fuck instead of sucking. Damn!”

“She got regulars who ain’t got time for fucking. They got wives and kids to get home to. They on a tight timeframe.”

“Since when do tricks care about their families?”

“These ain’t regular tricks. They got family values.”

“Family values and tricks don’t even belong in the same sentence,” Flashy pointed out.

“Lollipop has an appointment with a bowling team. Feel me? About fifteen muthafuckas be lined up to get their jawns sucked. They gotta be out at a certain time.”

“Send one of them other hoes to do the job.”

“Nah, they feelin’ the way Lollipop gives brain; they don’t want nobody else.”

“Let Bubbles handle those family men. The way she slobbers all the time, she should be able to keep those dicks lubricated.”

“Bubbles gives a good titty fuck, but those bowlers ain’t with that.” Worriedly, Bullet ran his fingers through his hair.

Flashy pulled the ice pack away from Gianna’s face. With pursed lips and squinted eyes, he examined her face. Ever so lightly, he pressed his fingers against her swollen cheek.

Gianna yelped like a hurt puppy and pulled away from Flashy’s light touch.

Flashy smacked the ice pack on the nightstand. “I don’t know what to tell you, Bullet. She’s in bad shape.”

Bullet looked at Gianna with disgust. Incensed, Bullet began pacing again. Agitated, he wiped his palm against his own jawbone, breathing heavy, his temper flaring.

In a sudden flash of rage, he rushed toward the bed. Bending down, he positioned himself between Flashy and Gianna.

With his face only inches from Gianna’s, he said, “That’s good money, yo. I’m not letting yo’ dumb ass mess up a steady stream of income.”

She winced under his hateful gaze.

“Y’ah mean?” he shouted.

Gianna nodded quickly.

“Calm down, Bullet. You’re breathing all hard—like a damn
dragon. Making me nervous.” Flashy maneuvered around Bullet. He stood up and fanned his face dramatically.

“This bitch must think I’m soft,” Bullet announced, looking off as though he were speaking to an invisible audience.

He yanked his head toward Gianna. “You think I’m soft?”

“No!” Though it hurt like hell, she forced herself to part her lips and defend herself with coherent speech.

“You see that shit?” Bullet asked, looking at Flashy and then turning to the unseen spectators. “She opened her mouth,” he said, with an expression of astonishment.

He flopped down on the bed beside her. His eyes looked demonic. “Why you trying my patience?”

She shook her head. “I’m not,” she said, her phrasing soft and almost inaudible.

“Oh, you forgot how to talk, huh?”

Again, she shook her head. Then, confusedly, she nodded. She was so scared, she didn’t know how to respond.

“This lil’ ho is tryna play me,” Bullet said to Flashy.

Looking bewildered, Flashy stood with his chin cradled in his hand.

Bullet shot an evil eye at Gianna. “You got a lot of game for a young ho from the suburbs.”

“No, no. I don’t.” She was able to say those words without moving her jaw.

Bullet sprang up from the bed. “I’m gon’ have to teach you a lesson. You got to face some consequences.” Bullet’s body jerked with rage, his shoulders bobbing as if to the sound of pulse-thumping music.

“Calm down!” Flashy said in a high-pitched voice. “This is way too much drama for my nerves. Now, let’s just figure out who you’re going to send to do her work for tonight. She’ll be back in business and ready to handle those bowlers next week.”

“Fuck them bowling alley muthafuckers. They don’t run shit. They can get with Lollipop when I say so. You feel me, Flashy?” There was spittle in the corners of Bullet’s mouth.

“I guess so,” Flashy whispered. “But seriously. Do you realize you’re actually foaming at the mouth? Not sexy. You look a hot, scary mess.” Flashy turned up his nose.

“I’ma show you what scary looks like,” Bullet retorted. He stalked toward the dresser, and yanked open a drawer. In his hand, he held the handle of a knife that was encased in a leather holder.

 
 CHAPTER 30

Gianna’s eyes bulged. She had never set eyes on the knife handle that Bullet was holding, and she refused to allow her mind to conjure up visuals of what Bullet planned to do with it.

Flashy gasped in shock. “I’m leaving. I’m not about to be an accomplice to murder.”

“Murder? I’m not gon’ kill that bitch. You think I’m crazy or something?”

Immense relief washed over Gianna. Though she’d had thoughts about dying, her natural survival instincts kicked in. She was too young to die. Too young to give up hope that there was a chance to once again experience a normal life…to enjoy her God-given right to freedom.

Flashy also looked visibly relieved that Bullet wasn’t contemplating murder. “I’m just saying…You acting like you got a couple of loose screws.”

“I gotta handle some unfinished business. That’s all.” Bullet shrugged like his unfinished business was no big deal.

But Gianna knew Bullet’s many moods. She detected a simmering rage that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

Slowly, he unsheathed the knife and smiled at it. It was a vicious-looking weapon that looked sharp and smooth at the top, while the center was curved with cruel, jagged edges.

She considered wriggling off the bed and making a mad dash
to the front door. Maybe when Bullet let Flashy in, he’d left the front door unlocked. Unfortunately, her legs were paralyzed with fear.

“Put that ugly thing away, Bullet!” Daintily, Flashy covered his eyes as though the sight the serrated blade might cause him to faint.

“I thought you had my back.”

“Why should I?” Flashy screeched incredulously.

“Because.”

“Because what?”

“You know…” Bullet’s lips spread into a cheesy smile. “You know, man.”

“I don’t know a damn thing,” Flashy snapped.

“Yo, stop being difficult.”

“Hmph. I’m not making any assumptions. You gotta tell me what’s what.” Flashy waved his manicured hand around with great flourish.

Bullet’s facial expression softened. “It’s like this…if you help me out with this, we can get it back like it used to be.”

A flicker of a smile crossed Flashy’s face. “Seriously? Are you for real?” He giggled and then self-consciously smoothed down his short, permed hair.

“I’m dead up.” Bullet wrinkled his brow and nodded, attempting to convey a large degree of sincerity.

With a hand on his narrow hip, and bending at the waist, Flashy covered his mouth to contain the girlish giggles that had him twitching and shaking with glee. Pulling himself together, he stood straight. “Oh, my God! You’re not going to believe this. I went to a psychic. That woman was on point! She told me it was just a matter of time before you realized that you and I are destined to be together.”

With his forehead knotted in a frown, Bullet looked confused, like he didn’t really know how to respond.

Batting his fake lashes, Flashy gazed at Bullet with unmistakable love.

Gianna prayed that Bullet intended to slice up Bubbles. Or Skittles. It didn’t matter which girl, as long as that wicked-looking knife wasn’t used on her. She had already been sufficiently punished. Her bloated jaw was a testament to that.

She hated herself for being so gutless, but she’d endured more than her fair share of physical abuse from Bullet. She hadn’t developed a friendship with either girl, and owed them no loyalty. She had to save her own skin.

If she had the courage, which she didn’t, she’d appeal to Bullet’s common sense. If her throat wasn’t so dry from fear, she’d clearly point out to him that from a business perspective, a few lacerations on those drugged-up hoes would keep them in line.

Giving them flesh wounds with his knife would be a great replacement for the coma-inducing medication they’d been taking. Bubbles and Skittles could make a lot more money for him if they were alert and could put more enthusiasm in the tricks they turned.

“What do you want me to do?” Flashy asked, using an overly feminine voice.

“That bitch like playing with my phone, so I got something for her. She gon’ think twice before she try to make another muthafuckin’ phone call.”

Flashy nodded in solemn understanding.

Then, as if following a choreographed routine, Bullet and Flashy moved in concert.

Worriedly, Gianna’s eyes followed the two men.

Flashy yanked a pillow from behind Gianna’s head. “Sorry,” Flashy said, flinching at the sound of her head thumping against the headboard.