Cameron 2

by Jade Jones

  Yes.

  Jude and I stared into each other’s eyes for several seconds before I finally spoke. “Is there still something going on between you two?” I asked. I wanted to know the truth but at the same time I wasn’t sure if I was exactly ready to hear the answer.

  “What do you mean?” Jude asked dumbfounded.

  Why do men have to play these damn games, I asked myself.

  “You and Ericka,” I said. “Is there something goin’ on between ya’ll two?” I repeated.

  “Man, Cam, no!” Jude was obviously growing frustrated. “Where are all these questions comin’ from? ‘Cause she showed up here that means we gotta be fuckin’ with each other?”

  “I was just asking,” I said. “I can ask, right?”

  “Man, I guess.” His response was nonchalant.

  Jude’s mood has obviously gone downhill at the mention of something going on between him and Ericka. I decided to shift the conversation to a less touchy subject. “I told my girl, Tiffany that she could stay at the condo with me until she got on her feet. I hope that’s cool with you.”

  “Yeah, it’s all good.” Jude didn’t sound like he cared one way or the other.

  “I miss you,” I admitted.

  He finally cracked a smirk. “You don’t miss me for real.”

  “Yeah, I do.” I stood up over him and kissed him on the forehead.” I miss you a whole lot.”

  Our lips met for a passionate kiss.

  “You know when I get out, I ain’t gon’ be able to put in work like I usually do,” he laughed.

  “Boy, you thinkin’ bout some damn sex,” I laughed. “You need to be thinking about getting better so you can come home.”

  We gave each other one last kiss and I promised I would return tomorrow.

  After leaving the premises, I made my way towards the truck in the hospital parking lot—

  “What the fuck?!” I screamed. Examining the four slashed tires, I couldn’t believe somebody had actually done this to my shit.

  “Bitch, I told your ass to stay away from Jude!” I heard a familiar voice yell from behind me.

  I quickly turned around and watched Ericka skirt off while bumping Rihanna’s “Where Have You Been”.

  I took off running after her silver Toyota Camry. “You fuckin’ bitch!” I screamed. “Don’t let me catch your ass! I’ma fuck you up!”

  Tears streamed from my eyes as I shouted out useless threats. It seemed like I couldn’t get a break lately.

  Catching my breath, I rummaged through my purse and pulled out my cell phone.

  Tiffany answered on the third ring, “What’s up, girl?” she greeted cheerfully.

  “Girl, I need you to come and get me from up here at the Cleveland Clinic in Lakewood.” I placed my free hand on my forehead and turned around to survey the damage. I couldn’t believe that crazy bitch Ericka would violate me like this.

  “Is everything okay, Cameron?” Tiffany asked in a concerned tone.

  “Girl,” I sighed. “I’ll just tell you when you get here.”

  “Alright, I’m on my way now.”

  I quickly disconnected the call. “This be that bullshit,” I swore to myself. Ericka was behaving irrationally for someone who wasn’t dating Jude. He could say whatever he wanted, but I knew there was something going on between the two of them.

  Chapter 7

  On the way home, I quickly filled Tiffany in on everything that had taken place over a mere week. From Jude being arrested to Silk’s suicide and eventually leading up to Ericka’s crazy antics.

  Tiffany pulled her car into my garage and killed the engine. “If it wasn’t for bad luck, you wouldn’t have any at all, Cameron.”

  I sighed before hopping out. “Tell me about it.”

  The minute I stepped into the condo, I noticed Jude’s IRS letter was re-opened and lying on top of the kitchen counter. I clearly recalled placing the letter back into the envelope.

  Tiffany walked past me and headed to the refrigerator where she retrieved a bottled water.

  I know this bitch was not snooping through my shit, I thought. I picked the piece of paper up and held it up for her to see. “Damn, Tiffany. Nosey much?” I asked sarcastically. I had every right to curse her ass out about invading my privacy but I had bigger problems to worry about.

  She nearly choked on the water. “Oh…I was…uh…”

  “Snooping,” I finished the sentence for her.

  She took a seat at the breakfast bar. “So what are you gonna do as far as rent and bills and stuff?” she asked.

  I sighed and ran my fingers through my unkempt hair. “Girl, I don’t know.”

  “Hmm…” Tiffany placed a finger on her chin and pretended to be deep in thought. “Well…you could always go back to stripping,” she suggested. “I got it!” she suddenly said. “Why don’t we both start dancing?”

  I had to do a double take to be sure that I was hearing my girl correctly. “You?” I asked. “Stripping?!” I had to control myself from laughing in my homegirl’s face. Tiffany couldn’t have weighed more than one hundred and twenty-five pounds with clothes on. She had no ass whatsoever and if I had to guess I’d say she was a B-cup at the most. She also wore a pair of thick framed glasses. To put it short, she definitely wasn’t exotic dancing material.

  “Yeah,” Tiffany said. “We both obviously need money. What money is more convenient and easier to get than stripping money?” she asked.

  I made a face and shook my head. I had promised Jude that I would never step foot inside of a strip club again, and I had been good on my word for the past several months. “I don’t know, Tiff. You ain’t never ever stripped before. How do you even know you ready for that life?”

  Tiffany sucked her teeth and waved me off. “Come on now, Cameron. It’s just dancing. How hard can it be?”

  ***

  Vixen was facing horizontally as she held onto the bronze pole. Her sister, Chyna stood vertically on top of Vixen’s body while pretending she was surfing the endless waves. The fellas absolutely loved the performance; bills flew from every which direction, raining down on the two beautiful women on stage.

  “Damn,” Tiffany said in awe. Her eyes widened in disbelief as she watched the acrobatic act.

  “Just dancing, huh?” I teased.

  Ray Jr’s “I’m Looking” blared loudly through the massive speakers as Tiffany followed me into the dressing room.

  “Hypnotic?!” Juicy yelled excitedly the minute I entered the dressing room. “I see somebody done came out of retirement! Yeah, girl, I knew ya ass couldn’t stay away from this money for too long!”

  “What’s up, girl. What’s up everybody?”

  After all the females greeted me, I took the initiative to introduce Tiffany—who was standing by my side quiet as a mouse. “Hey ya’ll, this my homegirl, Tif—Temptation,” I quickly said.

  “What’s up, Temptation,” everyone greeted in unison.

  The females were extra friendly to Tiffany probably because they didn’t see her as much of a threat with her petite frame and thick glasses. Don’t get me wrong, Tiffany was a cute girl. With flawless mocha brown skin, full lips and a gorgeous smile, she was definitely capable of making a few heads turn. If I had to compare her to a celebrity, I’d say she resembled a more grown-up KeKe Palmer. Tiffany definitely had the whole good girl look going on.

  “Tiff, lose the glasses after you get dressed,” I advised her.

  “Well, how am I gonna see?” she asked redundantly.

  I shook my head. “Fine, Tiff. Whatever.”

  I was more concerned with my own fruitful endeavors for this evening to care about Tiffany’s appearance. The mortgage would be due soon. There were still bills that needed to be paid. I had to shake my ass twice as hard if I planned on leaving with a reasonable amount of money.

  I quickly changed into a hot pink one piece with rhinestones embedded along the hem. Tiffany moved at the pace of a snail as she changed into the black foil mini
dress I had let her have. It was brand new and since I had never worn it, I figured she could have it. However, the dancing heels I had given her were far from new. They were the first pair of stripper heels I had ever owned. Although my foot prints were ingrained in the soles, they were still pretty sturdy and beggars couldn’t be choosers in Tiffany’s case. Besides, there was no way in hell I was going to let her wear my pink platform light up shoes.

  From time to time I would entertain Jude in the comforts of our bedroom.

  Juicy walked up to me at the vanity and placed her hand on the small of my back. “By the way, girl,” she whispered. “I heard about what happened to Silk. I’m really sorry—”

  “I appreciate it, girl. But I’m just trying to move forward,” I repeated Jude’s comforting words. However, I knew it was easier said than done.

  “I feel you, girl. Stay up,” she said before exiting the dressing room.

  “How do I look?” Tiffany eagerly asked once she was fully dressed.

  Like a parent fixing their child’s clothing, I adjusted the dress so that it fit perfectly on her petite frame. “Better. You look hot,” I told her.

  “Hypnotic? New girl? Ya’ll want some of this?”

  Champagne was doing a line of cocaine a few seats away from us at the vanity. She had offered us to do a line much like someone would offer a guest coffee or tea. Champagne was a decent-looking chick. She reminded me of Kaleena from Diddy-Dirty Money and even had her head shaved just like the singer.

  “Nah, I’m good,” I declined. I thought about the night I had witnessed Silk snorting cocaine and how it had drastically changed him. I wanted no part of it. “Alright, Tiffany you ready?” I asked.

  Tiffany hesitated. “No, I’m gonna um…I’m still getting ready,” she said. “I’m gonna…uh…do my makeup,” she told me.

  I gave her a suspicious look but figured she was just nervous since this was her first night. “Alright. I’ll catch you outside.”

  “Alright, then.”

  Ahmad, the club owner, practically ran into me as I stepped out the dressing room. “Hypnotic, you’re up next.” He gave my ass a firm slap. “I missed you, girl. Please don’t leave us again.”

  I couldn’t make any promises. Besides Jude would flip if he knew my ass was even in here, but I had to do what I had to do. He wanted me to hold him down and that’s what I was doing. Well…at least that’s what I wanted to believe I was doing.

  DJ Khaled’s “Take It to the Head” bumped throughout the club as I made my way towards the stage.

  Chyna held her hand out for me, as I made my way up the stairs. “Get it, bitch!” she playfully slapped my ass.

  Bills were already raining down on me before I even gripped the bronze pole. I felt like an ex drug addict about to get high again after being clean for a brief period. I was scared, nervous and excited. I knew I shouldn’t have even have been doing this shit but I was already here so what the hell? Shaking off my anxiety, I gripped the pole.

  Damn, I miss Poca, I thought. Where was she at when I needed her to sneak me a much needed drink? A slight smirk tugged at my lips as I thought about the night she had spiked my drink. I could’ve killed her. And then she had the nerve to play innocent as if she had done nothing wrong. That was Poca for you.

  Take it to the head…Don’t think about it, be about it. Don’t be scared…

  Chris Brown’s soulful voice sang the chorus; I slowly but surely fell into beat. As I was doing my thing on stage, I suddenly noticed a familiar face standing at the bar…I instantly stopped what I was doing once I recognized who I was staring at…

  He stood about six feet two inches tall. Judging from his cocky physique it was obvious that he hit the gym up on the regular. His skin was the color of cinnamon and his wide chestnut eyes were accentuated underneath dark, thick eyelashes. His full beard was tapered and a pair of diamond earrings glistened in both his ears in the dimly lit club. Although he was a handsome guy, he always seemed to sport the same mean mug whenever I saw him.

  How could I forget him? And why the hell would he even show his face here after what he had done? It felt like only yesterday when I had been staring into the very face of death, looking up into the dark barrel of a loaded Glock.

  I knew him simply as Kevin. He hung out at the afterhour spot, Smoove’s. I didn’t know him personally but I knew that he and Pocahontas had kicked it from time to time, and that he often paid for the kitty cat. I had never socialized with him myself but I knew he was some big name hustler that had connects from Broadway to Lorraine Avenue.

  I assumed since Kevin was a well-known dope boy that was what initially drew Pocahontas to him in the first place. As usual, her greed clouded her judgment and she ended up robbing him for twenty stacks. But indeed karma was a bitch, and Kevin came back for Poca’s ass in the most vengeful way imaginable. One bullet to the chest and one to the dome. Sadly, her greed ultimately led to her demise.

  Kevin was fraternizing with his homie at the bar. Obviously, he felt my intense gaze because he suddenly looked up at me on stage. The smile that was just pasted to his light brown face only moments ago quickly disappeared.

  My heart rate instantly sped up with images of Poca’s lifeless body flashing into my mind. I nearly vomited on stage as I recalled how her wig had been gruesomely pushed back from the impact of the second bullet.

  The look in his eyes silently threatened me but for some reason I couldn’t break away from the intense stare.

  Suddenly, he turned away and gave his homie dap before leaving the club. I finally released the breath I’d seemingly been holding once he left.

  Chapter 8

  “Tiffany?! Tiffany?! Chill!” I demanded. “Relax!”

  The night had finally ended and I was forced with the impossible task of trying to dress my inebriated friend.

  I didn’t know how or when Tiffany had managed to get herself pissy drunk. One minute she was cool; mingling with the fellas and I had even noticed her giving a few lap dances—she obviously had the hustle in her after all—but the next thing I knew she was stumbling and falling all over the place.

  Luckily for her, I made her keep her money bag in her locker in the dressing room. Some of the dancers were so damn cutthroat that they’d wait for a fellow dancer to get sloppy drunk so that they could easily steal their money. I didn’t want Tiffany to fall prey.

  As I tried my best to dress my drunken friend, I came to the sudden conclusion that she was definitely not fit for this lifestyle. I could see that now. Once she finally sobered up, I planned on having a nice, little talk with her about finding a different means to get money. For example, a normal nine to five.

  “I am so fucked up, Cameron!” Tiffany laughed. She was slumped over in a chair at the vanity as I attempted to unfasten her dancing heels.

  “I can see that,” I told her. “But can you please stay still? You nearly poked me in the damn eye with that heel.”

  “Oh, you are ca-razay!” Tiffany laughed.

  “No, more drinking for you, Tiff,” I told her.

  “You good, Temptation?” Juicy asked as she pulled on her pair of retro Jordans.

  “She’s good,” I told Juicy. “Just had one too many drinks.”

  Tiffany giggled. “That’s not all I had.”

  I didn’t know what the hell that meant, but I figured the liquor had her talking recklessly. Tiffany was so hammered that I didn’t even bother trying to change her back into her normal clothes. I simply slipped her bare feet into her pair of all white Adidas and helped her stand up.

  She instantly began staggering and I quickly placed her arm around my shoulder to help her with her balance. Grabbing my rolling suitcase, we headed to Tiffany’s 2012 Nissan Altima which was parked across the street from The Shakedown.

  “Where the hell are we?” Tiffany giggled as she wobbled alongside me.

  “Yo, is she cool?” the bouncer asked as we walked past him.

  I shook my head. “She’s fucked
up,” I answered.

  The bouncer quickly grabbed Tiffany just before she fell to the ground, practically taking me with her.

  “I got her,” he said before lifting her into his arms.

  “Oh, wow. You’re my knight in shining armor,” Tiffany slurred.

  The bouncer carried Tiffany to the car and placed her in the backseat. After tipping him twenty dollars, I decided to count my tips for the night right there in the car. Aside from the mortgage needing to be paid, I now had to worry about getting my truck towed from the hospital’s parking lot and getting brand new tires.

  I swear when I see Ericka again, I’m going to whup her ass, I promised myself. And speaking of Ericka, I had a bone to pick with Jude tomorrow. There was no way in hell that I was not going to tell him about the crazy tire slashing shit she had pulled earlier.

  “Six hundred and ten…six hundred and eleven…six hundred and twelve?!” I asked in astonishment. “That’s it?!” The mortgage was four times what I had made tonight. “It’s cool,” I told myself. The mortgage wasn’t due for another two weeks and I knew I’d easily scrape up that money from dancing.

  “Where are we going, Cameron?” Tiffany slurred from the backseat.

  Beep! Beep!

  I quickly turned my head in the direction of the vehicle that had just pulled alongside me. Four black silhouettes stared at me through the tinted windows of a black Ford Excursion. They were bumping Dom Kennedy’s “My Type of Party”.

  The man on the passenger side rolled his window down. “What’s up, ma? Me and my niggas tryin’ to run that! You with it? We got bread!” he shouted.

  I sucked my teeth and quickly started Tiff’s car up. These niggas had another thing coming if they thought I was about to let them run a train on me and my homegirl. They had life all the way fucked up.

  The minute I pulled off, they did also making sure to keep their truck at the exact same speed as my car.

  The guy on the passenger side was hanging out the window like Tupac, with his arms outstretched and everything. “Aye! Why you actin’ like that?!” he yelled.