Guard the Throne

by Nisa Santiago

  The woman stopped in the hallway and peered at Citi. She was beautiful and was dressed like a model straight out of Paris. She was exactly her father’s type—leggy, long hair, curvy, full hips, and a face like Beyoncé’s.

  Citi glared at the woman like she was the Antichrist.

  “Well, let me knock and see anyway,” the woman said.

  “I said he ain’t home,” Citi repeated sternly.

  The woman rolled her eyes. “Little girl, what’s your name again?”

  “I never gave it.”

  “Well, look, I’m Victoria.”

  “And?” Citi stepped closer to Victoria. “My father’s out, so I’ll tell him you stopped by.”

  Victoria sighed. “I don’t need this.”

  “So leave!”

  “You’re rude. Your daddy needs to teach you some manners.”

  “He don’t need to teach me shit!”

  Victoria forced a smile. “I’ll come back.”

  “Do that.”

  Victoria spun on her heels and headed toward the elevator.

  Citi glared at Victoria and muttered, “Bitch!” She watched her step into the elevator. Citi then went down the four flights of stairs and made her way toward Dana’s place.

  ****

  “I told that bitch off, yo. She think she could just come bustin’ into my daddy’s crib like she lives there,” Citi told Dana. “Fuck that fake-lookin’ bitch!”

  Dana laughed. “You a trip, Citi.”

  “I just don’t like fake fuckin’ bitches.”

  Citi and Dana were taking it easy in the soft leather recliners in the Korean nail shop in Rochdale, getting pedicures in the half-empty salon.

  Citi sat in the chair like a queen on her throne, watching the Korean immigrant scrub the bottom of her feet. “They couldn’t pay me enough to do this,” she said to Dana.

  “Hey, someone gotta make us look good,” Dana replied.

  “As long as that someone isn’t me. I rather stay on this end of her job.”

  Tonight was party night at the club on Jamaica Avenue. It would be a young, vibrant crowd with plenty of cuties for Citi to flirt with. She planned on showing up looking flawless, and that started with a manicure and pedicure. Afterwards, the girls got their hair done at Kandi’s Beauty Salon on Linden Boulevard and hit up the stores on Jamaica Avenue for a few outfits.

  ****

  Citi walked out her bedroom dressed in a studded off-the-shoulder mini-dress that showed off her curves and exposed her gleaming legs in a pair of spike pumps. She also sported a pair of double-stone drop earrings and rhinestone bangles around her wrist.

  The apartment was empty; her brothers were gone, and her father was nowhere around. They were either out on business or with their whores somewhere. Citi would cherish the solitude in the spring, but the winter months made being alone in the apartment eerie. She yearned for company, but her father didn’t allow any boys into his place, so she always went out.

  She met up with Dana in front of the building. Dana decided to show off her sexy figure in a dusted sequin racerback dress and a pair of sexy peep-toe pumps that gave her six more inches in height. Both girls looked like they were ready to work the track instead of go to a club.

  As they waited for their cab to arrive, Citi said, “I can’t wait till I get my fuckin’ car.”

  “Shit, we gonna be styling over the summertime.”

  “Hell, yeah. You know it.”

  They slapped each other high-five.

  Citi’s cab arrived, and the girls climbed into the backseat and instructed the driver to head toward Club Dawn on Jamaica Avenue.

  Citi couldn’t wait to see Cold Lay mix and cut up the records in the club. Though he was six years her senior, she had a small crush on him, and wherever he was deejaying, she made it her business to be in the crowd to watch him do his thing.

  3

  The line outside Club Dawn stretched down the block. Citi gave the driver his fare and strutted toward the place. Both girls instantly caught the attention of everyone as they stepped out of the cab. Eyes lingered on their long legs and sexy attire. The young men made catcalls at them, and the ladies couldn’t help but to stare.

  Citi smiled. She and Dana paraded past everyone in line to get inside the club and headed toward a side entrance. Going through the front was for losers, and Citi didn’t have time to wait on that line like she was regular. She was Curtis’ daughter, and his princess didn’t wait on any lines. She was always VIP.

  They rounded the corner and moved down a side alley that was cluttered with parked cars. There were a handful of people by the side entrance, and the heavy steel doors were shut tight. The people in the alley were getting restless also, all waiting around for some kind of hookup, so they could avoid the hectic crowd around the corner.

  Citi moved through everyone and knocked loudly. She looked up at the overhead camera angled down at them, wanting whoever was behind the door to see her face clearly.

  Moments later, the door was pushed open from the inside, and a man dressed in all black emerged. He smiled at Citi and her friend.

  “Damn, Ditty! What took you so long?” Citi asked.

  “It’s a busy night,” he replied. “This your friend?”

  “Yeah,” Citi answered.

  Ditty nodded. He looked the two young girls up and down and couldn’t help but to smile. Ditty was a young thug who used to work for her father. He was tall like a basketball player and pushing 240 pounds. He was an intimidating man who grew up to love violence and guns.

  Ditty had caught a few charges and was on probation, and he gave up the streets and became a bouncer via a friend he knew at the club. Working there allowed him to take out his aggression on unruly troublemakers inside.

  Ditty had respect and love for Citi because of who her father was, and he had a crush on her.

  “We in there, right?” Citi asked.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  Ditty opened the door more, his back against it, and motioned the ladies through.

  Others loitering in the alley could only gaze at the ladies in astonishment.

  “Yo, what about us?”

  “C’mon, man, we tryin’ to get in too.”

  “Y’all muthafuckas is gonna have to wait, so step the fuck back!” Ditty shouted. No one dared try him. The scowl on his face to match his powerful size was all he needed for crowd control.

  Citi and Dana strutted through the dim, narrow hallway, and could hear the thunderous bass playing from the club. The girls giggled like schoolgirls and hurried toward the party with eagerness.

  The girls emerged from the side tunnel and stepped into a whirlwind of revelers partying like it was New Year’s Eve. Inside the club was like an all-out all-star parade of revelers, ballers, women, and craziness. “She Will” by Lil’ Wayne and Drake blared throughout the club.

  Citi began dancing to the track—she loved Lil’ Wayne—and cut loose on the floor, reciting the lyrics like she’d written them herself.

  She looked up and could see her boo, DJ Cold Lay, mixing it up above in the DJ booth that was elevated over the large crowd. He was surrounded by admirers and his crew, and looked extra sexy with his backwards Yankees fitted. His wifebeater exposed his heavily tattooed arms, and his gleaming diamond chain swung around his neck with an eye-catching pendant—a turntable encrusted with black and white diamonds. Cold Lay was flashy, and the ladies loved him. Citi wished she was up there next to him.

  “I need a drink,” Dana said.

  Citi agreed. The girls couldn’t take two steps toward the bar without some random dude trying to snatch them up for a dance or trying to holler at them. The attention was what the girls were looking for, especially from the cute ones with swag.

  The gi
rls approached the crowded bar and looked for some sucker to buy them a drink. They didn’t want to deal with the hassle of showing their fake IDs to the bartenders and being questioned about their age. It was easier to show off their cleavage, smile, and flirt with some willing male to get free drinks all night.

  Citi looked around, and she saw many willing applicants. The men in the club were like hungry wolves, and two young things like Citi and Dana were what they craved.

  It didn’t take long for Citi to be in a nigga’s ear and have him smiling. It took a simple hand on his thigh, a laugh, and some enticing words. He soon waved the bartender over and paid for the girls’ drinks without problems.

  Citi thanked him for the Cîroc. He wanted a little more of her time, but Dana was more interested in him than she was. So she passed her friend over to him, and stared up at the DJ with gleaming eyes.

  As the night progressed, the music seemed to get louder, and the party was livelier, with the DJ mixing it up like he was Funkmaster Flex on Hot 97. Citi and Dana were in the midst of the crowd on the dance floor, gyrating their hips and rubbing across the men wildly, like they were in a strip club. And the men didn’t have a problem giving the young ladies the attention, copping cheap feels and grinding behind Citi in her mini-dress.

  Maino, flanked by his goons, stood in the VIP booth in a flashy black mink coat, his jewels shining heavily. He was watching his partner’s daughter wild out in the club like a whore. His beady eyes narrowed in on Citi. Her mini-dress was riding up her thighs, exposing the color panties she had on, and the men were all over her like ants at a picnic. He scowled, placed the champagne glass on the table, and headed toward the dance floor to confront Citi, hurrying down the short flight of steps and pushing his way through the crowd. No one dared to argue with him. He looked like a bear with his mink coat clinging to his back and the glare on his face.

  He zeroed in on Citi dancing with an older gentleman, her booty shaking like an earthquake. Her dance partner’s hands were all over her, like he was doing a medical examination. Lust for Citi was evident in his eyes.

  The man licked his lips, embraced Citi snugly, and allowed her ass to rub against his crotch as they moved to a Kanye West song. Sporadically, Citi would glance up at DJ Cold Lay, to see if she’d grasped his attention, but he was into spinning his turntables and shouting into the microphone. She was just another regular girl on the dance floor.

  Citi took a few sips from the drink in her hand. Dana wasn’t too far from her. She backed her ass up into a young man’s crotch and stimulated a hard-on for her to feel rubbing against her butt.

  Maino continued to plow his way through the crowded dance floor like he was treading water. He approached Citi and didn’t hesitate to snatch the man dancing with her by the back of his collar. Maino yanked him back with immense force, almost lifting the man off his feet like he got hit by a gust of wind, and made him collapse on his ass. He shoved him to the side like a bug.

  The man was stunned for a short moment. He didn’t know what had attacked him. He jumped up on his feet with his fists clenched and was ready for a fight.

  Maino pivoted on his shoes and shot such an intimidating stare at the poor clown, he made the guy curl up like a frightened pup. Maino outweighed him by a hundred pounds.

  “What, muthafucka? Get the fuck off her like that,” Maino exclaimed through clenched teeth. “I’ll fuck you up, nigga!”

  He then turned to Citi and barked, “What the fuck is wrong wit’ you, Citi?” He towered over Citi and glared at her.

  “What the fuck, Maino! Why you trippin’ for?” she shot back.

  “I’m trippin’ cuz you actin’ like a fuckin’ whore in here.”

  “You ain’t my daddy, Maino.”

  “I am tonight.” Maino grabbed Citi by her arm and pulled her away from the dance floor.

  Dana, noticing the disturbance, followed behind her friend.

  Citi tried to resist, but Maino’s grip around her slender arm was too strong. It felt like she was caught in a bear trap. He continued to drag her toward his booth in the VIP section, everyone looking on.

  Citi glanced up and noticed that she finally had DJ Cold Lay’s attention while she was being embarrassed. She felt like crying.

  Maino pushed her into the seat. “You need to chill here.”

  “Maino, why you doin’ this to me? I’m fuckin’ grown!”

  Maino looked her up and down, taking in her complete attire, and chuckled. “You wanna grow up too fast, and act like a whore, and I guarantee you, these niggas out here will treat and devour you like one.”

  Citi folded her arms across her chest and let out an irate sigh. She coldly looked up at Maino as he towered over her.

  “You don’t disrespect your father like that,” he said.

  “Fuck you!”

  “Watch your tongue against me, little girl.”

  “There ain’t nothin’ little about me. I know you can see for yourself, Maino,” Citi countered with a smirk.

  Citi was the only one Maino allowed to curse at him. If it was anybody else, they wouldn’t have left the club alive. He shook his head. “Daddy’s little girl.”

  “Fuck you!”

  Citi continued to look at him with contempt. She always had respect and love for Maino, but tonight she wanted to cut his throat for embarrassing her.

  Dana came and sat next to her friend. “Everything okay, Citi?”

  Citi sucked her teeth. “Niggas is fuckin’ trippin’ in here. Fuckin’ faggots, that’s what y’all all are! Fuckin’ faggots!”

  Maino downed his champagne and looked at Citi like he was ready to give her a serious spanking. His goons couldn’t keep their eyes off Citi. They were glued to her long, shapely legs and her big breasts.

  Maino caught a few of his goons gazing at Citi too hard. “What the fuck y’all niggas lookin’ at?”

  The men quickly diverted their attention from Citi.

  Citi smiled as she crossed her legs slowly. She knew could have any nigga she wanted. Maino kept her and Dana hostage in the VIP area with him until he was ready to leave, ruining their night and her hopes of flirting with DJ Cold Lay.

  An hour before dawn was to crack open the sky, Maino escorted Citi and Dana out of the club and made them climb into the backseat of his Yukon. Citi still had an attitude. He remained nonchalant and drove the girls home.

  Citi jumped out of the truck, slammed the door like a mad woman, and marched into her building.

  Maino sat behind the steering wheeling pulling at his cigarette and smiled. He respected the feistiness in Citi. She was definitely daddy’s little girl. His eyes lingered on her ass too long as he watched her storm into the lobby, never turning to look back.

  He had watched her grow up, and Maino felt that she was growing up too fast. She was becoming a wildcat, and he knew Curtis had a handful with her.

  But he respected the attitude. Citi was going to create attention in whatever room she stepped into or wherever she was—she had to be the center of attention. It was in her blood.

  4

  Citi sat by her bedroom window and took a few pulls from her cigarette. She still couldn’t get over the embarrassment from Maino at the club the night before. She woke up in a foul mood, which worsened when she saw it was snowing outside. Citi hated the snow. It was always inconvenient. The snow and cold weather were a burden on her fashion. She couldn’t flaunt her cute skirts or tight shorts, or prance around in her open-toe sandals and show off the body that God had blessed her with. Spring couldn’t come fast enough for her.

  Citi wanted to go back to bed, but her growling stomach convinced her to make her some breakfast. She extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray and headed to the kitchen, on a mission for some pancakes and sausages.

  Citi noticed her father’s leather coat han
ging over the back of the chair, and his shoes were in the corner. The leather coat was always an indication that he was in his bedroom. His bedroom door was closed, but Citi wanted to knock and greet him with a good morning—or good afternoon. She figured he’d had a late night and needed his rest.

  She removed the pan from underneath the kitchen cabinet, took out the eggs and milk from the fridge, and started the process of making herself a hearty breakfast. She’d learned to cook from Ms. Eloise next door. It was a skill that Citi was proud of. Ms. Eloise had become a surrogate mother to Citi when her own mother, Ashanti, didn’t have the time to raise her daughter. Without her own biological mother around, Citi had to learn a few girly things on her own, from her first period to wearing her first training bra.

  There had been times when Curtis tried to get the many women who were in and out of his life to help Citi become a young lady, but Citi hated the bitches her father brought around. She saw them as gold-digging bitches who didn’t care for her father like she did.

  The delightful aroma from the pancake batter cooking in the pan began to fill the kitchen. The kitchen came to life with Citi’s cooking. The pancakes were becoming fluffy, and her smoked sausages were looking juicy. When her brothers didn’t come out their bedrooms to stuff their faces, she knew they weren’t home. Chris and Cane were greedy, and whenever Citi took to the kitchen to make one of her dishes, they would always be the first ones around to devour her cooking.

  Citi began setting a place for herself at the table. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten in hours, and the liquor from last night still churned in her stomach.

  As Citi sat to eat, she smiled to see her father exiting his bedroom, shirtless and wearing sweats. He carried a warm smile walking into the kitchen.

  “What you cooking, princess?” he said with a smile.