Heartless

by Al-Saadiq Banks

  Just as she she’s about to wrap her hands around Storm’s neck the other detective steps in between them and pries her off. Storm sits back calmly, and this makes the detective even angrier. “You little, funny looking, freckled-faced bitch you! Orphan Annie face-ass bitch!” the detective says. She’s so mad that her professionalism and her adult go out of the window.

  Storm is no longer unbothered. The detective has struck a nerve. Those words cut through her already hole-riddled self-esteem. This is something she hasn’t heard in years and the rage she feels right now is more than she felt as a child.

  She’s now equally as pissed as the detective is, if not more. Venom bleeds from her eyes. “Fuck you, you yellow bitch!” she barks with rage as she stands up, ready for war. The male detective stands in between them again as they try to get to each other. He pushes Storm and she lands onto the floor.

  “No, you lil ugly bitch.” She realizes the impact of what she said and uses it to get her rowled up. “Nappy head, freckled-face bitch!” She smiles with satisfaction as Storm steams with rage. “It ain’t ‘fuck me.’ It’s ‘fuck you and your attorney’! I promise you are going to jail for the rest of your fucking life!”

  * * *

  Toy is in the middle of her own heated situation as she sits in an office surrounded by a bunch of vice squad.

  “Here’s the deal,” the chief says. “We have video of you using this casino as a place to solicit sex. We have searched through videos for as far back as six months. We even have under-covers that you have offered sex for money,” he claims as Toy sits back with a face full of guilt. “You can either admit to the charges and go to jail for prostitution or you have another option that can help us as well as help yourself.”

  “And what is that?” she asks, eagerly wanting to help herself.

  “Are you willing to help us?”

  “All depends on what helping you consists of.”

  53

  Days Later

  Storm and Toy sit across from each other in the visiting hall. Toy has never seen Storm look so depressed. She’s known Storm to be high in spirit regardless of what she is up against. For the first time during their friendship, she sees Storm look worried.

  She looks like she has lost ten or more pounds in just the few days that she’s been here. Seeing Storm like this saddens Toy, especially since she believes that she is innocent in all of this. She has more news that she’s sure will make matters worse. She hates that so much has gone wrong since she’s been in control. She feels as if she’s let Storm down.

  What Toy also sees is Storm’s self-esteem at an all-time low, but she doesn’t realize it though. She confuses it all with depression. Storm, with her nappy hair and freckles exposed, makes her feel naked. Over the years she has managed to bury her complex but not now. In here, she’s forced to face it with no way to hide it. She can barely look Toy in the eyes.

  Toy exhales, preparing herself to drop the bomb. “So, Atlantic City’s over with,” she says sadly.

  “What you mean over with?” Storm asks with a baffled frown.

  “The other day, as soon as I stepped into the casino, I was surrounded by vice. They took me into the office and told me they’d had me on video for months and even had some undercovers that I supposedly had conversations with.”

  Storm shakes her head with disgust as she thinks of her money spot being blown up. That was her lifeline. She rubs her hands over her face. “Shit! If it ain’t one thing, it’s another,” she grunts. “So, they locked you up?”

  Toy shakes her head negatively. “They gave me an ultimatum,” she says sadly. “They said I could either admit it and get locked up or I could help them.”

  Storm automatically thinks that helping them meant bringing her in and telling on her, revealing that she was the mastermind behind it all. “You’re here, so is it safe to say that you helped them?” A smirk spreads across Storm’s face. “So, you gave me up, huh?” She chuckles with disappointment.

  Toy laughs in her face. “The same thing I thought they wanted. But no. The other option was coming to work for them.” Storm has no clue what she’s talking about. “They like my style and said I have a gift. Said they want me on their team at the casino.”

  Storm assumes that means working for the casino selling sex. “Figures. I always knew they had their own girls on the payroll, and that’s why they so hard on the independents. Getting in their way and cutting their money.”

  “Yeah, but not on the ground level. Like on some bigger shit. Their money’s on a different level, like tricks paying twenty and thirty-thousand for a night.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, they not even talking about me working like that. They want to give me a real position. Floor Manager.”

  “Oh, that’s what they call it?” Storm asks maliciously.

  “Nah. I don’t have to work in that way no more. My job will be to entertain the big money clients that come to the casino. I pick them up from the airport when they arrive and I would be in charge of them their entire stay. I set them up with everything that it takes to keep them entertained — food, plays, and partying. My job would be to make sure they spend all of their money before leaving that casino.”

  Storm sees the spark in Toy’s eyes and realizes that she may have lost her number one girl. “So did you accept the job?”

  “Nah, my loyalty is with you.”

  “Listen, you know I would never hold you back from doing what you wanna do. Them other girls are business to me, just pawns on the board. Me and you are friends with years of history together.”

  “I know that, but I’m thinking this could work out for both of us.”

  “How so?”

  “Like I said, I would be in charge of keeping them entertained in every sense. The casino has their own escorts that are called in for the entertainment. What we can do is slide a few of our own girls in there, and we can bust the bread down the middle.”

  The bigger picture plays right before Storm’s eyes. She would be losing her best girl but would have free range to move other girls through the casino pipeline. A smile pops onto her face. “I like that.”

  “Millionaire motherfuckers dropping it like it’s hot. Tens of thousands of dollars for one night. So, what you say?”

  “That’s a no brainer. I say take the gig and let’s go.”

  “I thought so,” Toy says with a smile. “Right now all we got is Wendy though. I been trying to think who else we could get, but I ain’t got that gift you got. You know you have a way of getting in their heads and making a bitch do what she don’t wanna do,” she says looking at her with a side-eye and a smile.

  Storm stares into space and what she sees is promise and opportunity. She rubs her hands together like a mad scientist. “Don’t worry about that. I got it from here. Once they bust this gate and let me out… it’s on!”

  54

  4 a.m.

  With the casinos now out of bounds, Toy had to find another source of income for them. Storm’s hustler mentality has rubbed off on Toy over the years, so she knows how to get to the money. Didn’t take her long to come up with a plan. Earlier today after leaving the county jail, she set up in the Holiday Inn near the airport.

  They’ve been in their room for hours now. She’s posted on Craigslist and the customers have been coming in by the hour. Wendy has entertained twelve dates already, all paying a minimum of four hundred dollars. Toy’s only job was to answer the calls and set up the appointments. She screened the calls, making sure that all the clients were white men. With no security, they need no friction, so she wanted no young, black, drug dealer clientele.

  The entire day she turned not one trick, letting Wendy do all the work while she played the Madame role. That was until she received a call from a man who requested two girls. With no other girl on the roster, Toy had to join along to fill his r
equest.

  Wendy stands at the door, butt naked as the middle-aged Caucasian man steps inside. He walks past her, cool and calm, not taking a second look at her nudity. Toy sits at the head of the bed, dressed in fine lingerie. They both examine the man and see no sign of him being a cop.

  Instead he looks like the typical respectable business man dressed down on the weekend like a soccer dad. The wedding band on his finger makes them erase the word respectable from his description. He catches them eyeing it and removes it. His honor is restored in their eyes and they see him as just another married man in need of some fun to break the monotony of a boring marriage.

  Wendy locks the door and follows behind the man. He stops at the sink and Toy walks over to greet him. She rubs her hand over his clean-shaven face. “Hey, handsome.” Wendy hugs him from the back, arms around his waist, checking for a hint of a gun or a walkie-talkie. She finds neither. What does pique their attention is the Poland spring water bottle with what appears to be beer inside. They both consider that he could be drunk and that could mean hours of sex without him being able to cum.

  “So, you ready for a good time, handsome?” Toy asks as she’s extra touchy-feely.

  “That’s why I’m here,” he replies. His aura says he’s not new to this.

  “What you doing up at this hour?” Toy asks. “Couldn’t sleep? Did morning wood wake you up?” she asks as she rubs her hand over his crotch. She juggles his manhood in her hand and is shocked that her magic touch has no magic in it. He remains limp.

  Wendy is now at Toy’s side. They stand there like double trouble. “So, you requested two girls. Are you sure you can handle that? You got enough energy for two of us.”

  He cracks a smile for the very first time. “I think I can muster up enough energy.” He reaches out and twists Wendy’s nipple in between his fingertips.

  She grabs his hand. “Not yet. Money first,” she says before flashing a wink.

  “Tell mama what you need.” She kisses him on the cheek, hands on his crotch.

  He gets to digging in his pocket for his wallet. He peels the bills from his wallet very neatly and meticulously.

  * * *

  In the Essex County Jail, loud snoring from the Muslimah on the bottom bunk rips through the air quite rhythmically. The outside of the cell is peaceful and serene until the shuffling of slippers against the floor breaks the peace. Storm is awakened.

  “Hmphh,” she sighs with aggravation.

  She’s just dozed off for a few minutes… and now this. She shakes her head with anguish as she lifts up and looks out onto the tier. Through the glimpse of light she sees the woman walking by, dragging her feet as she always does. The shuffling seems so much louder being that it’s the only noise around.

  The Muslimah’s snoring ceases, and she can be heard fidgeting around on her cot. She sighs in aggravation as well. Her eyes can be felt burning through the bottom of the top bunk. The shuffling of the slippers fades the further away the woman gets. Once it’s no longer heard, the Muslimah’s snoring starts up again. Storm is not as fortunate to find sleep. She’s stuck in a state of insomnia. Another long night.

  * * *

  Back in the hotel room, Toy and Wendy have been surprised with the weirdest request ever. In this business, they have come across many weirdos, but this one here exceeds the weirdo meter. They almost take it as an insult that, as beautiful and as sexy as they both think they are, he doesn’t want sex with them. He hasn’t even touched them in a sexual manner. What he’s paid them to do is strange to them.

  He lays in the bed stark naked, spread eagle as Wendy stands over him. With all of her might, she drops a fist full of her most powerful punch onto his testicles. He grunts with agony. Satisfaction fills his eyes. “Harder,” he begs. Before he can ask again, she drops an even more powerful punch. “Agghh,” he grunts as he rolls over onto his side. He slowly rolls over onto his back with agony but no satisfaction. “That’s not enough. Harder, please,” he begs.

  Wendy looks to Toy helplessly for she has done her very best. They have taken turns on him, yet he seems not to be content. Toy steps up to bat, once again, as she thinks of what she can do to bring him the pain that he desires. “Stand up!” she commands.

  Once he stands up, with no warning, she grabs his testicles in her hand and squeezes them like she’s squeezing an orange for fresh orange juice. His tongue hangs from his mouth and he’s not able to utter a sound. He drops to his knees with pain while his eyes light up with pleasure. “Yes!” he grunts. “Don’t stop! Squeeze harder!”

  Toy, feeling like she has him at his breaking point, uses her other hand for reinforcement. With both hands, she squeezes the life out of him. He screams a high note as he reaches his peak. They back away from him, staying clear of the ejaculation that erupts like confetti in the air. Never have they seen anything like this. To be paid two hundred and fifty dollars apiece for this is probably the strangest money they ever made, but it doesn’t stop there.

  The man stands up and with a spark in his eyes he speaks. “Now for the grand finale.”

  “That’s it,” Toy replies.

  “Don’t worry. I have more money,” he says. He reaches over to his pants that are on the nightstand and digs into his pocket. He peels through his crisp bills and hands them both another three hundred.

  They await his request, not sure of what it could possibly be. They are almost afraid to ask, but they have to. “What is the grand finale?” Toy asks.

  The man cracks a smirk. “You, beautiful, I would like you to urinate on me.” He looks to Wendy. “And you,” he says as he slaps her ass for the very first time. “I want you to drop a doozy on me?”

  “A what?” Wendy asks.

  “Yes, a number two,” he says with guilty perversion on his face.

  They look at each other in shock at his request. They then look at the three hundred dollar bills in their hand. “Okay, I got two more hundred apiece.” He quickly gives them the additional money and lays onto the bed, not thinking of taking no for an answer.

  “You first,” he says as he pulls Wendy to him. He guides her over top of him, planting her exactly where he wants her. She straddles him, ass onto his stomach, looking at Toy with embarrassment on her face. She leans forward and buries her face on the bed in between his feet to cover the shame she feels for even entertaining such a thing. She grabs his ankles tight as she strains, trying to fulfill his request.

  Toy, not wanting to witness the act decides to fulfill her obligation and make her exit. “She steps close to the bed and with the most sexiness she can muster up under the circumstances she asks, “And where do you want me, handsome?”

  He hangs his head off the edge of the bed and positions her wherein she’s standing straddled over his face. With his eyes closed, he worships Wendy’s glorious ass with his hands. He massages her slowly in attempt to make her more comfortable. His fingers seep into the softness of her fluffy cheeks. A few loud slaps leave her with a stinging that lasts for seconds. “Come on. Give it to me,” he begs as he gives her a deep tissue massage. Just as she’s about ready to drop the load he’s begging for, he slaps her again and breaks her concentration.

  Suddenly his focus is broken as the golden shower floods his face, taking his breath away. He opens his eyes and mouth wide. Enjoyment spread across his face as the shower revives him. Toy allows the few tinkles she has left to drip before she backs away and watches from the distance. She’s sure no night will ever match this one and if it does, she doesn’t want to be a part of it.

  Twenty minutes later, and Wendy has finally been able to meet her job description. She gets up from the bed feeling dirty and disgusting. She leaves the man, lying on the bed, a shitty mess, and by the look on his face, he’s in heaven right now. He lays back in pure ecstasy.

  Wendy walks toward the bathroom, legs spread apart, careful not to let them tou
ch. As she passes Toy, she lowers her head in shame. “Damn, girl! You stink,” Toy says with her lips turned up to her nose. “Bitch, you need a detox,” she teases. Wendy rolls her eyes and steps into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. The shower water sounds off immediately.

  Minutes later, all have cleaned themselves up, but the stench is still blaring in the air. The man now fully dressed has reverted to his soccer dad disguise. “Thank you, ladies,” he says as he takes a sip from his water bottle. “I’ve enjoyed myself.” The familiar smell of Listerine rips from his mouth.

  He places his wedding band back onto his finger with no shame at all. He guzzles the mouthwash like water, attempting to wash away the evidence of his fetish. If only his wife knew about his secret fetish, maybe they wouldn’t have such a shitty marriage, or maybe they would.

  55

  In the mess hall, Storm sits at the table alone in the far corner of the room. On a tray in front of her are three globs of slop. She’s disgusted by it, but she’s starving so she prepares the slop the best way she can by sweetening it and adding excessive salt to cover up to the taste. She hasn’t eaten in days and has been filling up on only water. She can no longer get by that way and has no choice but to be here.

  This is her first time stepping foot into the mess hall, and as she figured, the room is quite tense. Clusters of women are spread out throughout the room, all in cliques. A table full of dykes across the room have their full attention on her. They watch Storm with lust in their eyes as the table full of divas at the next table watch her with jealousy. Storm’s attention is on the table full of Muslim women to the left of her. She appears to not be paying them any attention, but truly she keeps both eyes on them. Venom has been coming from that table ever since she stepped foot in there.