Cameron 2

by Jade Jones

  Jude had just stepped into the master bathroom and closed the door behind him when suddenly my cell phone rang. I rolled my eyes once I recognized the familiar number displayed across the cracked touch screen.

  “What do you want?” I asked through gritted teeth.

  “I just wanna talk—”

  Click!

  I hung up the phone before Silk had a chance to finish his statement. As expected, he called me right back. This time I allowed the voicemail to pick up. Like the pest he was, he sent a text message seconds after. However, that I didn’t ignore. After unlocking my phone, I read the incoming text message I had just received:

  Meet me at PB tmrw nite.

  I didn’t bother responding to his text message. However, two minutes later he sent a second one that read: It’s important. Before I could respond to that, he quickly replied with: It’s about ya dude. Trust me bay u gone wanna hear this shit.

  Suddenly, the shower water had begun running. Ultimately, I had two options: Either meet Silk down at Pandora’s Box—the club he danced at— to see what exactly he was talking about or I could simply ignore and avoid him altogether. On the other hand, I didn’t like being faced with the unknown. Nevertheless, I didn’t give Silk the benefit of the doubt. If I showed up, I showed up. If I didn’t, I didn’t. It was as simple as that.

  ***

  “Where’re you going?” Jude asked the following night.

  I had just slipped my feet into a pair of sequin floral flats when he had asked. It was going on seven o’clock p.m. and I had only one destination in mind. Nevertheless, I said, “I’m going to meet my girl, Tiffany up at Richmond Square. We might go to Southgate Lanes afterward. Is that cool?”

  In all actuality, I hadn’t seen or spoken to Tiffany in quite some time. We hit each other up on Facebook from time to time but that was about it. We were both too busy enjoying our own summer vacation to keep the promise of staying in touch with one another.

  Jude sat up in our king size platform bed and rested his back against the button-tufted headboard. Patting the empty space beside him, he ushered for me to join him. “Come here real quick, bay,” he said in a soothing tone.

  I slowly made my way over towards him and plopped down on the edge of the bed beside him. He wrapped his strong arms around my tiny waist and pulled me close.

  “You look nice,” he complemented.

  Keeping it pretty simple, I was dressed casually, wearing a pair of khaki cuffed pleated shorts and a white racerback tank top.

  I laughed modestly. “Thanks, bay.”

  Jude sighed. “Look, I know I been acting funny lately, but I just been really stressed out about the court date and everything. I mean, they hit me with some shit.” He paused and I patiently waited for him to continue and hopefully fill me in on what was going on with him. “You need a couple dollars or you good?” he simply asked.

  Sighing inwardly, I quickly stood to my feet and grabbed my Matelassé clutch off the night stand. “I’m good,” I answered in an irritated tone before walking out the bedroom. Initially, I felt bad for what I was about to do, but Jude was giving me no other choice.

  Thirty minutes later, instead of pulling into the vast parking lot of Richmond Town Square Mall, I was instead pulling into Pandora Box’s crowded parking lot. I knew Jude wouldn’t be thrilled if he knew that I was here but I was all too curious to hear what Silk had to say.

  After parking my car, I killed the engine and hopped out. I could hear the music inside of Pandora’s Box bumping from outside. It seemed like only yesterday when Silk had been shot in the parking lot by Tank—an old fling from the past and former dancer at Pandora’s Box.

  At the doors, I was met by a hefty, ball-head bouncer. He wore a black shirt with the word security printed in white across his chest. Coincidentally, he was also a male dancer here at Pandora’s Box but tonight he was playing the unexciting role of a security guard.

  After checking my clutch for any dangerous items, I showed my identification card and paid the five dollar cover fee.

  The moment I entered Pandora’s Box, the lights were already dimmed and it was apparent that I had just walked in during a performance.

  Suddenly, a shirtless male dancer walked into the center of the club. Dozens of horny—most likely married—women began clapping and cat calling upon his entrance. The tall, brown skinned dancer wore a pair of black cargo pants. His face was covered by a custom-made full head black and silver mask. In his right hand was a leather whip and from the way he was circling the stage in an enticing stride, I could tell he was scoping the crowd for his victim of choice.

  There were a few other male dancers working the floor and mingling with women. I didn’t see Silk among them. I figured he was still in the dressing room preparing for his upcoming performance.

  The Weeknd’s “What You Need” played through the speakers and the dancer effortlessly made his chest muscles bounce to the beat. For a minute, I forgot why I was even here. I was so engrossed in the show, that Silk had been momentarily pushed to the back of my mind.

  Snapping myself back to reality, I headed towards the dressing room—as odd as it sounded women were actually allowed back there and some even offered “inspiration” for the male dancers. Just as I was making my way through the horny spectators, I suddenly felt someone grip my elbow. However, it wasn’t a firm or forceful grip.

  The moment I looked up, I stared into the masked face of the male dancer. He softly tugged on my elbow, signaling for me to join him on stage—which was basically the center area of the club.

  Suddenly, everyone in the club’s attention became fixated on me. Some women stared at me in envy, wishing they could be the chosen one. Others looked on with questioning glances, probably wondering if I would even allow whatever the dancer had in mind to happen.

  I shook my head. “I can’t—”

  He softly placed a gloved finger against my lips and gently pulled my body into his. “Ssh. Just relax.” His voice came out a little muffled behind the mask, nevertheless it sounded very familiar.

  Before I was able to decline his offer, he swiftly lifted me off the ground and hoisted me in the air. He placed my legs over his shoulders and quick spun me around in circles. Scared for dear life, I clutched his head, fearful that he might just drop me.

  As crazy as it sounded, even though I had dated Silk, he had never pulled me onto the stage to entertain with him. I was used to and comfortable with him choosing random women from the crowd. After all it was his job, and I would much rather prefer not to be put on the spot light anyway. I got enough of that at my old job. Understandably, I did not know what to expect from this mysterious dancer.

  “Watch him ladies! Watch him!” The DJ yelled into the microphone.

  With his face buried deep into my crotch, he spun me around several more times as women cheered on and threw bills onto the stage. After what seemed like the tenth spin, he finally lowered me down to waist level. Dizzy as hell, I had no choice but to wrap my legs around his waist to keep myself from falling.

  “Just relax. I got you, baby,” he whispered before lowering me onto the stage floor. Evidently, he noticed my uptightness.

  After settling between my thighs in the “missionary” position, he began grinding and gyrating his erection against my crotch. The fabric of my khaki shorts was so thin that it felt like his actual dick was pressing against my clit. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment as I slowly found myself enjoying the tease.

  “Get that shit! Get that shit!” the DJ was hyping up his performance and the women absolutely loved it.

  The Weeknd crooned through the massive speakers as the male dancer continued to seduce me. “He’s what you want. I’m what you need.”

  What are you doing girl, I asked myself.

  In a daring attempt to escape his seductive act, I tried to ease from underneath him, but the minute I tried, I realized what a big mistake I had made. He quickly intertwined his strong legs around mine and effortl
essly flipped me onto my stomach. Before I was able to gather what the hell kind of move he had just executed, he grabbed my waist and began pumping vigorously against my ass.

  “That’s right! Show her ass who in charge! Don’t run from the dick! Take it!” the DJ yelled into the microphone.

  The women absolutely loved the act and quickly flocked the stage to make it rain on us.

  Once the women exited the stage, the mysterious dancer finally helped me to my feet. “See that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” he asked.

  Suddenly, I thought back to the first night I had met Jude at The Playpen in Columbus, Ohio. He was so uptight and stuck up acting that night. He didn’t even want a lap dance. A paid lap dance at that!

  I sighed inwardly. Jude, I thought. He’d be pissed beyond a reasonable doubt if he knew I was even here. Gathering what little pride I had left, I headed towards the dressing room.

  “Going to change them underwear, huh?” A random woman teased as I rushed past her.

  Chapter 3

  I pushed open the stiff wooden door that led to the men’s dressing room—I was instantly met with the unexpected sight of Silk snorting a line of coke at the counter.

  We were the only two in the dressing room and I quickly cleared my throat making my presence known. Silk, however, wasn’t surprised when he looked up and noticed me standing there. He knew I’d show up.

  I pointed to the residue left on the counter from the line he had just done. “When did you start doing that?” I asked in a non-confrontational tone.

  “What it matter? You ain’t my bitch,” Silk noted.

  I could not believe the same man who had choked me out, assaulted me and damn near planned out Pocahontas’ execution was behaving in such a childlike manner. All because he was upset at the fact that I was now someone else’s woman.

  Usually he was such a hard ass but he had allowed his jealousy to degrade him to behaving like a mere child, upset that he couldn’t get his way.

  I propped my hands on my hips. “Look, Silk…what did you want to talk to me about?” I asked. I didn’t have time for the games, I wanted to get straight down to the nitty gritty. I was disregarding my own restraining order by even being here. “What do you have to tell me that was so important, you couldn’t just say it on the phone,” I pressed on. “You talk on the phone any other time,” I pointed out. Especially since I knew it was him who had been playing on my cellphone the past few days.

  Silk snorted and wiped away any residue that was left around his nostrils. Pulling his seat out slightly, he turned around to face me. The only stitch of clothing he wore was a pair of black Hanes boxers, but even that sight alone wasn’t enough to excite me like it used to. I used to melt at the very touch of Silk. Just the sight of him used to stimulate me. Now all it did was make me sick.

  “I been fuckin’ with this broad that comes up to the show every now and then,” Silk said.

  I made a face. “And? What that got to do with me?” I asked nastily.

  “She works down at the police station on 93rd.” Silk was slowly but surely filling in the pieces to the puzzle. “I had her look up some info on ya boy,” he sneered. “You laid up with a nigga you know nothin’ about.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. I was asking it but in my heart I wasn’t sure if I was ready to hear it and accept it.

  “I bet you ain’t know about ya boy’s little car operation, huh?” Silk snickered. “Ya Mr. Mothafuckin Perfect ain’t so perfect at all,” he taunted.

  “So you really did call the police, huh, Silk? Why would you do that?”

  “’Cause I knew that nigga was gon’ get knocked. I been told ya ass to end it but you ain’t wanna listen. Bitch, if I can’t have you, I’ma be damned if I let the next mothafucka have you.”

  Silk was talking crazy but suddenly, everything was beginning to make sense. Jude had no idea he was going to get arrested that night. If I had to guess, I’d bet money Silk had followed us from Shooters and waited for the perfect opportunity to call the police.

  “I’ll let ole’ dude fill you in on the details and shit,” Silk said. “I just wanted to give you a heads up on the nigga you think you in love with.” He stood to his feet and pulled on a pair of black leather chaps.

  I stood a few feet away from him in silence as I digested his words. After pulling on a black cowboy hat, Silk walked past me. “At least you knew about the dirt I was doin’,” he said before exiting the dressing room.

  For several seconds, I simply stood there in silence, marinating on his words. I was pissed that he would even take the initiative to find dirt on Jude, but I was mostly upset with Jude for not being real with me.

  After collecting my thoughts, I quickly left the dressing room. Silk was dancing at a nearby table. Women were waving their bills around as they eagerly anticipated their turn to receive attention.

  Chris Brown’s “Sweet Love” was now bumping through the speakers as Silk took to dancing on a Caucasian heavy set female. I watched as he took her plump hand and guided her fingers down his oily chest. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to reminisce about the good memories Silk and I once shared. Like every other relationship, we went through our share of turmoil but we also had our good moments. Once upon a time, I couldn’t even imagine myself being happy with anyone else but Silk. I was just that gone over him.

  The chubby white woman continued to fan her bills in Silk’s face as she enjoyed her free feel. She even went as far as to try and slip her hand inside his briefs. Apparently, she was feeling herself a little too much off the Moscato she was sipping on.

  Suddenly and just as unexpectedly, Silk snatched the bills from the woman’s hands. “Gimme this shit, bitch!” he yelled. “You sittin’ up here flashin’ the shit in my face! I ain’t dancin’ for my mothafuckin’ health!”

  The women at the table were instantly startled by Silk’s sudden temperament. A couple even screamed and one even slid her chair away from the table as though she feared Silk might actually start swinging.

  The record scratched and the music instantly subsided. The DJ quickly left the booth to see what the hell was going on. Another male dancer—known as Foreplay—rushed over towards Silk to calm him down.

  I had never seen Silk behave this way at work. But then again, he had seemingly turned into a whole new man since our breakup. Don’t get me wrong he was never the perfect, sweet gentleman most of these women here believed him to be. He was possessive, controlling, and at times even abusive. Nowadays he was thrice as bad. Hence, the restraining order I had to file against him some months ago.

  “Aye, man, what are you doing?! Chill!” Foreplay placed his hand on Silk’s chest.

  “Naw, man! Fuck this shit, man!” Silk pointed his finger in the frightened white woman’s face. “This bitch tryin’ to play me!”

  “Dude, ain’t nobody tryin’ to play you.” Foreplay pulled Silk away from the woman. “You trippin,’ dog!”

  The DJ quickly came over in order to deescalate the situation. “Look, Silk, why don’t you just go home for the night. You obviously stressed out, bruh. I don’t want you scarin’ none of the women away.”

  The DJ’s sister owned Pandora’s Box and whenever she was not in attendance during the shows, he also served as an overseer.

  Silk violently shook Foreplay off. “Nigga, this some bullshit!” He motioned towards his surroundings. “All this shit some bullshit!” Silk headed towards the dressing room furious at the fact that he was being asked to leave. “Damn!” Silk screamed before kicking an empty chair over.

  I shook my head at the unbelievable scene that I had just witnessed. Silk was like a total stranger now…and I assumed his new drug of choice had a lot to do with his odd behavior.

  Since there was nothing else left to see, I headed outside towards my truck. As soon as I pressed the door unlock button on the car remote, I heard the sudden sound of footsteps approach me from behind.

  Turning on my heel, I watched as Silk jogg
ed up to me. “Hold up real quick!” he said.

  Damn, this nigga dressed fast as hell, I thought. Anyway, I ignored him as I opened the driver door.

  “Hold on, Cam. Damn, I just wanna talk to you real quick.” In a matter of seconds, Silk rounded the truck and climbed into the passenger side.

  “What, Silk?! What do you want?” I lashed out.

  “Cam, I just wanna talk to you…and it ain’t even about that nigga. It’s about us—”

  “It ain’t no fuckin’ us!”

  “You still gon’ keep this charade up? Now look, I done put up with this bullshit long enough. I told you before to end that shit. You ain’t listen—”

  “Silk, when are you ever gonna accept that the fact that it ain’t never gonna be an ‘us’ again?” I asked.

  Silk’s voice took on a softer tone as he spoke. “How you expect me to just get over you?” he asked. “You were the only female I ever cared about. Pure, Poca…all them hoes…they wasn’t shit but some easy pussy. You meant everything to me. I ain’t never felt the way I feel about you with no other bitches,” Silk professed. “A nigga can’t live without you, Cameron. I still love you. And you a fuckin’ lie if you say you still don’t love me too.”

  Silk reached over in attempt to caress my cheek but I quickly pulled away. I couldn’t stand to even hear him utter Pocahontas’ name after what he’d done. The night Pocahontas had been murdered was painted crystal clear in my mind. She had robbed Kevin—a guy whom she’d met at Smoove’s and turned tricks with occasionally. Silk, being the coldhearted bastard that he was, pointed Kevin right in the direction to find Pocahontas.

  It seemed like only yesterday, me and Pocahontas was chilling in her Challenger. It was then that’d I seen her vulnerable side for the first—and last—time. Just as Pocahontas and I were sharing our moment of truth, we were suddenly rammed from behind by a van. Kevin sent Poca’s Challenger spiraling out of control and before I knew it, I had been knocked unconscious.

  When I finally came to, I had witnessed the horrifying scene of Kevin letting loose two bullets into Pocahontas’s body. Strangely, Kevin decided to spare me…