Child Support (Urban Books)

by Amour

  I got up, took my gown off, and exposed my naked body, which had the shape of a Coca-Cola bottle. Trist licked his lips. His presence made me want to fuck him again, but I had to settle for his brother, Cliff. I got back in the bed and placed my hands between my legs.

  I heard Cliff coming out of the bathroom. Trist must have, too, because when I looked back out through the crack, he was gone. Cliff didn’t bother drying off or anything. He just got in the bed and got between my thighs, forcing them open.

  The entire process was a disaster for me, yet heaven for him. I wasn’t turned on at all, and my walls kept getting dry. He had to spit on his dick repeatedly to create moisture, and I could tell that he was embarrassed by that. Obviously, it wasn’t embarrassing enough to make him stop fucking me.

  I thought of the good, though. I was happy because I had found a new love in this house. . . . It was Tristan’s dick.

  Chapter 15

  When we touched down in Fort Lauderdale, the sun was beaming. We waited outside the airport for the shuttle to pick us up. All of our bodies were banging, and thus we caught the attention of every nigga at the airport.

  Hanging with these two girls gave me an I’m-the-shit type of attitude. I was getting too old for that, but I wasn’t the same twenty-six-year-old Angel anymore. I was twenty-two-year-old Crystal.

  “Crystal, I think that’s our shuttle,” Beautyful said as she picked up her carry-on bag. We all grabbed our stuff as the shuttle pulled over and stopped for us.

  Chelsea opened the back door and stuck her head in. “Is this for Chelsea Moore?” she asked the young Arabian driver.

  “Yes, Chelsea Moore,” he repeated, reading her name off of a piece of paper.

  She pulled her head out of the van and said, “This is us.”

  As we walked over to the shuttle, a group of niggas stopped us. There were five of them. They were the same dudes that we had seen at the mall the day I snuck out. They had a Hummer limo picking them up at the airport, and I knew money definitely had something to do with that.

  “Don’t y’all strip?” one of the light-skinned niggas asked.

  We all looked at each other, and Beautyful answered, “Yeah. Why? What’s up?”

  “Can y’all do a party for us at KOD on Saturday?” he asked.

  “We gotta think that over, hon,” Chelsea said while handing him her phone. “Put ya number in, and we’ll hit you up.”

  Smiling at me, he told her that I already had it. I returned the smile, and then we got in the van and headed to Miami.

  “Y’all know I don’t, or can’t, strip.” I giggled.

  I was sitting in the last row, while Beautyful and Chelsea were in the front row. They both glanced back at me and gave me a look that said they had an idea.

  “What are y’all thinking?” I asked. I was puzzled by the facial expressions they were wearing.

  “We’re like a triple threat. We could get hella money,” Chelsea said. She was rather convincing.

  I had fallen in love with money. I also loved the attention that they were getting from the niggas, and I wanted it for myself. I figured stripping with them wouldn’t hurt, but then again, I couldn’t dance.

  After about an hour’s drive, we pulled in front of the Royal Palm Hotel at Fifteenth and Collins. There were niggas all around the hotel. I wasn’t used to seeing so many niggas in one spot when there was no violence involved. Hotel employees came out and put our bags on a trolley. We went inside to check in at the front desk. There were a million niggas in there, too. There was a big white leather couch that was occupied by a few females and few males.

  All eyes were on us, probably because we were wearing jeans that looked like they had been painted on us. Our nails and sew-ins were fresh, not to mention our faces, which were flawless.

  After we got our room keys, we headed to the elevator. There was a bar to the left of us, and we heard a lot of the men there call, “Aye, Ma” and “Y’all bad.” We ignored all of it. I had noticed that these two girls never stopped or looked at the niggas that hollered at them unless the niggas physically approached them.

  We rode the elevator all the way to the twelfth floor. Our room was at the end of the hall. Chelsea slid the key in the lock, and the little bulb on the door turned green. She opened the door, and we all walked in and went straight to the balcony. The view was beautiful. You could see the beach and the tops of the palm trees from our room.

  “I’m definitely fucking somebody on this,” Chelsea confessed as she started laughing.

  We all took turns taking showers, then changed from our travel clothes into something that would give us that Miami feel. We wanted to feel like we were at home. We put on bikinis with blue jean shorts, leaving our shorts unbuttoned and folded over. Our bikinis were all plain; mine was red, Chelsea’s was yellow, and Beautyful’s was blue. All of us wore heels to match our bikinis.

  After relaxing in the sun at the beach, we were ready to explore the places that we had in mind. We decide to head out to King of Diamonds so that I could audition to be a dancer. The entire drive there, the girls asked me a heap load of questions.

  “You nervous?” Chelsea asked.

  “A little bit,” I confessed. I was daydreaming about how the audition would go. These girls really had me out of my element.

  “Just tune everybody out, and pretend you’re dancing in a mirror,” Chelsea said.

  I looked at her sideways and burst out into laughter.

  “I know. The Players Club.” She laughed, knowing I had caught on that she had used a line from that movie. “But it’s true.”

  For me, this was not a good time to recite movie lines.

  We pulled up to a building that didn’t strike me as one of the top strip clubs in the United States. We were on Fifth Avenue, and we could see the highway from where we were parked. We paid the taxi driver and went up to the door. When we reached the door, Chelsea and Beautyful stopped. So did I.

  Beautyful turned to me. “Now, they real cool in here, but this a business, so bring ya A game,” she warned.

  I nodded my head. By this time, I was ready to get it all done and over with.

  We walked inside the dim building. It looked much bigger inside than it did outside. It looked a lot like a warehouse. As I continued to observe the place, Beautyful went to find someone to help us. She came back with a man who looked like he was in his midthirties. He was fine, and there was something different about him, because he didn’t look very interested in any of us.

  “So y’all back . . . and y’all brought a friend?” he asked.

  Beautyful and Chelsea nodded their heads.

  “What’s ya name?” he asked me.

  “That’s Crystal,” Chelsea said, answering for me. “And this is the co-owner of this club. King.”

  “Stage name?” he asked next.

  I had never thought to come up with one, so I said, “How about you watch me up there and then you tell me?” I gamed. I didn’t know what came over me, because I was nervous as hell, but they did say to bring my A game.

  He smiled and then gestured with his hand, telling me to turn around. He wanted to see what I was working with. I did a 360 seductively. He rubbed his hands together and nodded. “So what do you wanna dance to?” he asked.

  I already had my song in mind. “U.S.D.A. ‘Throw This Money,’” I said as I took off my shorts and walked over to the stage. They put the song on, and I transformed myself into another person. I was rocking, popping, and dropping everything I had. I seductively untied the top of my bikini. It was still tied around my stomach.

  I lifted my right titty up and licked it playfully. I decided to kick my bikini bottoms off, and then I ran over to the pole and jumped up. I kept my legs spread in the air, and I slid down slowly with my pussy in the air. The music was cut off, and I stood up on the stage, waiting for the verdict.

  King looked at me with no emotion on his face. I couldn’t tell if I was going to get a passing grade or an F. He
signaled to me to come down to where they were sitting. I collected my items and made my way toward them. I put my bikini bottoms on and took a seat next to Chelsea.

  He scratched his head. “You danced before?”

  I shook my head no.

  “Never?”

  “No, that was my first time ever doing anything like that.”

  “You good,” he said while nodding his head. He then told me he was going to name me Pleasure, because it was a pleasure watching me dance. I smiled.

  He made the other two do a little dancing and then told us we were all hired. He also told us that there was going to be a big party for the rapper Face the next day. We told him we were going to be there.

  “I’m gon’ call y’all Triple Threat, ’cause together, y’all is dangerous on a nigga pockets,” he said.

  We laughed and headed out the door.

  We ate on Ocean Drive, at T.G.I. Friday’s. We talked about our auditions and how we needed to find something to wear for Face’s party. I was enjoying myself already, and I couldn’t wait to hit the stage to see how much money I could make.

  “Let’s make a bet,” I said between sips of my Long Island Iced Tea.

  “What?” Beautyful asked. She was cutting up her grilled chicken, trying to eat cute.

  “I don’t know . . . something like whoever makes the most money tomorrow night,” I volunteered. I really didn’t know what I was trying to say.

  “Oh, I see what you trying to say,” Beautyful said. “Let’s do it.”

  Chelsea nodded, as if she was down. We all decided that since we worked at KOD, we might as well do the party that boy had asked us about earlier.

  Chelsea looked through my phone. “What was his name?” she asked us. We realized he had never told it to us. “This Jeremy name must be his,” she said as she looked through the caller ID list.

  “Must be, ’cause it don’t sound familiar,” I stated.

  She called him. It was crazy how they knew Chelsea and Beautyful so well, but Chelsea and Beautyful didn’t know them at all. She told him where we were, and he told her not to pay for anything, because they were on their way. We patiently waited for him. When he came in, of course, he was accompanied by more niggas then he was at the airport. There were about ten of them. Jeremy and two of his companions sat down, while the rest of them stood around the table.

  “So y’all gon’ do my party for me?” he asked with a smile on his face. I started noticing how sexy he was. I was never really a fan of yellow boys, but he was an exception. I watched him as he watched me. His neck and arms were covered with tattoos, and that left me wondering if his chest or stomach was covered as well.

  “Of course,” I said in my sexy voice.

  He licked his lips at me. “You gon’ have to give me a special birthday dance.”

  “Now or later?” I asked. Right after I said that, I regretted it. The freak in me was coming out and trying to take over. I couldn’t have that, because I was still a lady . . . or so I thought.

  He laughed and then winked his eye at me.

  After they paid for our food, we got up and left. Jeremy and I walked together. He had his arm around my waist as we walked down Ocean Drive. He was telling me how bad he wanted to fuck me, how he wanted me to give him a private party in his hotel room, and that he would pay me. I told him that I would. Hell, I wanted to fuck him, too.

  His hotel was at the Catalina, far from where we were staying. I rode in a taxi down to his hotel, which was at Nineteenth and Collins. I walked in through the restaurant entrance. Inside, the lights were dimmed, and there were a lot of people dancing to music and hanging around the bar. The niggas were eyeing me and making all types of noises as I swished past.

  I went to the elevator. A sign on it read TWO PEOPLE AT A TIME.When the elevator doors opened, I understood exactly what it meant. I put my overnight bag over my shoulder and got inside the tight elevator and rode it to the third floor. When it stopped, I got off and then walked through the dim hallway, following the sign that directed me to the 325–355 rooms.

  I stopped at room 355 and knocked firmly. He opened the door, wearing nothing but boxers. He confirmed my expectations. He was tatted all over, and that immediately turned me on.

  I wore a long black trench coat with lingerie underneath.

  “What’s under that?” he asked seductively.

  I just smiled and walked over to the iPod that was sitting on a stand. I noticed it because it was lit up. The room was black and white, and there was a huge mirror leaning against a wall. I looked myself over, and then I dropped my trench coat.

  “Aww, yeah, baby. You the truth,” Jeremy said. I saw him behind me in the mirror. He was licking his lips and staring at my ass. I popped one cheek, and then I turned around and pushed him on the bed.

  “You ready for this?” I asked him.

  He nodded his head. I went into my bag and retrieved my best friend. I went back over to him and climbed on top of him.

  “Take off your pants,” I whispered.

  I put a knife I had gotten off of one of the tables at the restaurant behind my back as I got off of him. He stood up and quickly took off his pants. Then he lay back down so that I could get back on top of him. This time I sat backward. I played with his dick and balls while he moaned, gripping my thighs.

  “That’s all you good for is a fuck,” I heard Mike say loud and clear.

  I gripped my best friend tightly.

  “Fuck you!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, and then I sliced his dick off. It was like every time I fucked him, I killed him. He never died, though. He screamed. I hopped off of him and turned around to face him.

  He was as cute as he was the day I met him. He was yelling something, but I was so zoned out that I couldn’t hear him.

  “You bitch!” he yelled. It echoed in my head. It pissed me off more and more. I lifted my knife in the air, flung it, and it landed in his chest, right where his heart was. He stopped moving, and blood came out of his mouth.

  I pulled my knife out and went to rinse it off. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I was no longer Angel. I didn’t look like her, and I didn’t feel like her. I had lost myself loving Mike, and now he was gone. I went back into the room to give him my final words.

  “I know you loved me, Mike,” I cried, “And I loved you too. Why would you keep her from me, Mike? Why?” Tears formed in my eyes as I went to lie next to his dead body. I put his arm around me, and I fell asleep.

  When I woke up, I screamed. Jeremy was lying there dead. I didn’t know what to do. I wondered who had done this and how deep of a sleep I’d been in when they did it. Why didn’t they kill me, too?

  I panicked. I was covered in this man’s blood.

  I sat there wondering if I should call the police or leave. I covered my mouth and ran to the bathroom. I quickly opened the toilet seat and puked. I had never seen a fresh dead body.

  I took off the lingerie and took a three-minute shower, barely dried off, and put my trench coat back on. I grabbed my lingerie and balled it up, then jetted out of that room. I tried to walk normally when I got off the elevator, but I was way too nervous. I kept seeing his dead body in my head. This was going to haunt me for life. After I was out of the hotel, I made my way down Collins.

  I was ready to go back to Atlanta. Miami was too dangerous for me. You had to be savage to come in a hotel room and kill a man while I was lying right next to him. Why didn’t I hear anything?

  I made my way to our hotel fast. I bobbed and weaved the many men that grabbed my arm to get my attention. I walked through the hotel doors and saw two police officers talking to a hotel clerk. My first thought was to run out of the hotel when I saw them. I knew that would make me look suspicious.

  My heart dropped.

  I was the last person he was with, so that made me a suspect.

  What was I going to do?

  I walked past the police with caution. They both said hi to me as I made my way to the eleva
tor. When the elevator doors closed and the elevator started going up, I let out a huge sigh. I looked down at my hands, and they were shaking. My heart was still on the ground, and I was feeling sick. This was too much of an adventure for me.

  When the elevator stopped at my floor, I wondered if I should tell the girls what had happened. I didn’t know if saying something about it would make them suspect that I did it or not. What if they found out and considered it suspect that I hadn’t told them? I didn’t think they could hold water, so I decided not to. Then again, was his death supposed to be a secret?

  I walked up to our door, slid the key in the lock, and walked in the room. They were gone. I flopped down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. I kicked my bag to the floor. That was when I realized that my jewelry was in there. I got up to see if the bag had tipped over. That was when I questioned my innocence in Jeremy’s death.

  There lay a knife with specks of blood on it.

  Chapter 16

  We were due to dance that night at KOD, but I wasn’t in the mood. My mind was stuck on how and why that knife had got in my bag. I could have sworn I had gotten rid of one similar to it. I paced the floor. I had to hide it before the girls got back, so I took a towel out of the bathroom and picked it up. I wrapped the towel around it and put it back in my bag.

  I decided to call Tiffany to talk to my little sister. The phone rang four times before she finally answered.

  “Yes?” she said, sounding like she had an attitude.

  “Where’s Crystal?” I asked.

  “She’s not here! Damn!” she yelled before hanging up.

  I grew angry and was just about ready to fly to Chicago to whup her ass. I decided to call back.

  “Look, Angel, you really need to seek help and quit calling my phone,” she politely told me, and then she hung up again. I sat on the bed, looking at my phone in shock. First, Mike tried to keep me from my daughter, and now Tiffany was trying to pull the same move with my sister. I had too much on my mind.