by Jade Jones
I handed him his helmet. “Actually…um…there is no chance with me, Marcus,” I informed him.
He raised an eyebrow in skepticism. “Word?” he asked in a defeated tone.
“Yeah. I gotta dude,” I admitted.
Marcus sucked his teeth and sighed for good measure. “Damn.”
I turned and headed towards my front door.
“I don’t believe you,” he suddenly said.
I turned back around and faced him. “What?” I asked confused.
“I don’t believe you,” he repeated. “About me not having a chance with you,” he said. “I think I do. I just think they’re slimmer now.”
My lips formed into a slight smirk. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” I told him. “I love my man.”
Marcus smirked. “No shade, but I’m finna change that shit, ma.”
***
Twenty minutes after I made it in the house, Tiffany came strutting through the front door. I immediately went in on her ass.
“Where the hell did you meet Wallace? And why weren’t you answering your phone earlier.”
This bitch had the nerve to roll her eyes at me. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a grown ass woman, Cameron,” she retorted. “And I met him at The Shakedown. I told you already. Remember?”
“You told me you met some guy. I didn’t know it was him! Look, Tiffany,” I approached her. “That dude is nothin’ but trouble. Trust me.” I was too embarrassed to even speak about the rape.
“Like I said I’m grown,” she retaliated. “I can take care of myself, Cameron.”
I folded my arms and stared at her in disbelief. “Well, why are you living here in my house? Eating my food? And sleepin’ in my damn bed, Tiffany?” I asked her. “Answer me that. You really think you know that nigga? Well, let his ass take care of you. And speaking of him, I know you didn’t let that nigga know where I lived.”
“He picked me up and dropped me off,” she answered. “How was I—”
“Tiffany, you brought him here?!” I screamed. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?!”
“What is up with you and him?” Tiffany asked me. “What? Ya’ll used to fuck with each other or something?”
“Tiff, stop fuckin’ with that dude, aight? He’s bad news,” I told her. “Just promise me you’ll leave him alone, aight?”
“Okay, alright,” she quickly said in order to shut me up.
“I’m serious,” I stressed.
“I am too. Look,” she quickly fished in her purse and retrieved her cell phone. “I’m deleting his number right now,” she said. “Better?”
“Yeah. I feel a lil’ better,” I answered.
“Good. Now where’s my car?”
“Yeah about that…it wouldn’t start up. It’s in the hospital parking lot. I don’t know what happened. The gas needle was on the halfway point—”
“Oh, girl, I forgot to tell you, I got a floater. That damn needle doesn’t work. It probably ran out of gas.” Tiffany walked over to the breakfast counter and plopped down. “We’ll go get it tomorrow. Anyway enough about that. What’s up with you and Mr. Exotic Dancer?” she asked.
“Who? Marcus?” I said it like it was no big deal. “There’s nothing up with us? He picked me up after your ratchet car broke down and then took me out to get something to eat...and then all that other shit happened,” I added. “He dropped me off and I made sure to let him know that I had a dude.”
Tiffany twirled a braid around between her slender fingers. “Yeah you’d better tell his ass. Or else I’m telling Jude.”
“Girl, bye. It ain’t nothing going down between us.”
Tiffany twisted her mouth up. “Yeah…you sayin’ that now…”
***
I was at the bar giving a guy a lap dance when I noticed Champagne walk past and mean mug the hell out of Tiffany. She was too busy fishing in the guy’s pocket that she was giving a lap dance to, to even notice.
Shaking my head in disapproval, I couldn’t believe this bitch had only been dancing with me for two weeks and already she was pickpocketing. Naturally, I thought about Pocahontas and how her greed had ultimately led to her demise. This bitch was going about the hustle all wrong, I thought.
Tiffany finished her lap dance before me and I watched as she made her way to the locker room, probably to stash the guy’s wallet she had just stolen. My gaze then drifted over to the guy who didn’t even realized he had just been robbed blind.
The tall, heavy set guy stood up, rubbed his hard on through his True Religion jeans, and then took a swig of his Budweiser. I watched as he walked towards the foot of the stage where Juicy had shimmied up the bronze pole and made her ass clap in midair.
I figured he would reach in his pocket and retrieve his money, but he simply nodded his head in approval before swaggering out of the club with his bottle still in his hand.
I let out a sigh of relief. If he would have noticed his wallet was missing right then and there he would have known automatically that Tiffany had just swiped his shit.
“Thanks, sexy,” my customer said once the song finished. He placed a fifty dollar bill in my garter belt. After thanking him, I made my way to the dressing room to confront Tiffany about the slick shit she had just pulled.
I found her sitting at the vanity beside Juicy, toking on a blunt. When she started smoking, I thought.
“Temptation, lemme holla at you for a minute,” I said in a stern tone.
Tiffany burst into a fit of coughs. “What’s up?” she asked in between spasms.
I looked from Juicy to Tiffany. “Meet me in the bathroom,” I said before leaving the dressing room.
Two minutes later, Tiffany pushed open the wooden bathroom door. The restroom had only one stall but it still managed to serve as a second dressing room to most dancers.
“What’s up, girl?” Tiffany asked looking in the cracked bathroom mirror at her reflection. She tucked a few loose braids behind her ear.
“I saw what you just did out there,” I told her.
“What?” she asked dumbfounded.
I propped my hands on my hips. “Don’t play dumb. I saw you pickpocket the nigga you was just giving a lap dance.”
Tiffany waved me off. “Psssh! Oh that? Girl, I been doing that shit for a minute now.”
“Tiffany, did you forget how Pocahontas got her ass bodied?”
Tiffany snorted. “Well that was her ass. She obviously was too messy with it. I’m a smart bitch. These niggas be so into getting their lil’ dicks grinded on that they don’t even be feelin’ me slippin’ my fingers into their pockets,” she bragged. “I swear it’s as easy as takin’ candy from a damn baby. You should try it, Cam—”
“Girl, bye. You talkin’ crazy,” I told her.
“What?” she asked offended. “It’s not like I’m makin’ as much money as you and Juicy and ‘em. I gotta do a lil’ extra to make ends meet…”
I threw my hands up in mock surrender. “You know what? That’s on you, Tiffany,” I said. “You startin’ to feel yourself a lil’ too much. Don’t ever say I didn’t try to warn you.”
***
After tipping out, Tiffany and I made our way towards the exit. I was feeling a little better because I had met my quota for the night and then some. The mortgage would be paid in full and I could toss some money to my mechanic for the repairs. I was feeling good after tonight’s fruitful endeavor.
“Alright, Damon! Alright, Ahmad! See ya’ll tomorrow!” I waved goodbye.
“Where the hell are my car keys?” Tiffany complained fishing through her purse. “Oh, here. I got ‘em.” She opened the door and I followed her outside. “You know what we should do tom—”
Whap!
Tiffany was suddenly struck in the face with the hard, steel butt of a Glock 17! Tiffany instantly dropped onto the pavement. It had all happened so quickly that it took my brain a few seconds to register what was going on.
We’re about to get robbed, was the first tho
ught that came to mind.
“You lil’ thieving ass bitch! I ain’t that nigga! Where my money at before I put somethin’ hot in ya ass!” The guy who Tiffany had robbed earlier was standing over her with his gun aimed and finger resting on the trigger.
Tiffany wiped away the thick blood oozing from both her nostrils. She then spit out a mouthful of blood onto the ground. One of her front teeth rested in the center of the pool of dark red blood.
“Please don’t kill me,” she cried. “I didn’t take your money.”
“Bitch, do it look I’m playin’?!” he spat. “You was the only fuckin’ hoe I got a lap dance from. Don’t fuck with me!”
“Leave her alone!” I suddenly found my voice.
The guy instantly aimed his gun in my direction. “Don’t be a captain-save-a-hoe. This ain’t got shit to do with yo’ ass.” He then re-aimed his weapon towards Tiffany who was still lying on the ground. “Where’s my shit?!”
“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
He suddenly stepped on Tiffany’s fingers; the sole of his Timberland boot crushed her fingers.
“Tiffany, just give him his shit!” I screamed.
“Ow! Ow! Okay! Okay!” Tiffany screamed. “Please stop!” Blood trickled from her mouth as she plead with him to release her fingers.
I was scared shitless and I didn’t know what the hell to do. I just knew I didn’t want to die over a few dollars.
Hesitantly, he lifted his foot off her hand and allowed her to retrieve his money.
With trembling fingers, Tiffany quickly fetched the guy’s wallet from her duffel bag and handed it to him.
He quickly snatched the thick wallet and walked off towards his purple old school car as though he had not done anything wrong.
Juicy suddenly walked out the front door and was met with the unexpected sight of Tiffany lying on the ground with a bloodied face.
“What the hell just happened?”
I let out the breath I’d seemingly been holding ever since I stepped foot outside.
“That guy just robbed me,” Tiffany cried.
Chapter 14
It was crazy how Tiffany always seemed to manage to get herself into trouble no matter what. In all actuality, she was just another Pocahontas. Always getting herself in some shit and then dragging me along for the ride.
After taking her to the hospital, I decided to have yet another talk with her about giving up this stripping shit.
“Cameron, I’m not gonna stop because of what happened tonight,” she surprisingly said.
“Tiff, you just got your fuckin’ teeth knocked out of your mouth tryin’ to scheme—”
“Well, I’ve got thirty-one left,” she retorted.
We were sitting at a red light at the intersection of 22nd street and Carnegie Avenue. I turned to my girl. “Tiffany…you’re my friend,” I told her. “I care about you. You ain’t got shit to prove to me—”
“I know I don’t,” she said. “And real talk, this isn’t even about you. It’s about me,” she told me. “I like dancing.”
“What about you getting that that job?” I reminded her.
“Fuck that job,” she said. “I’m making way more doing this then I ever would working a nine to five.”
I looked at her in disbelief. I almost didn’t recognize my friend from the way she was talking right now. “What the hell is happening to you, Tiff?” I asked her. “This isn’t you. Remember how you used to scold me about what I did? You used to encourage me to want to do better for myself. What happened to that Tiffany?”
Tiffany rolled her eyes and looked out the passenger window. “That Tiffany is dead…”
Before I could open my mouth to respond, a car suddenly beeped its horn behind me, signaling that the light had turned green. For the remainder of the ride home, I didn’t say a word. It wasn’t until I pulled Tiffany’s Nissan Altima into the garage that I decided to speak again.
“Tiffany, as your friend, I’m telling you that I don’t think you should go back to The Shakedown. I saw what this lifestyle did to Pocahontas…trust me you don’t want that ending.”
Tiffany looked over at me and grimaced. “Like I told you before, I can take care of myself.” With that said, she hopped out the car and slammed the door behind her.
I sighed out of frustration before I climbed out the car.
***
The loud and annoying sound of my “Cashin’ Out” ringtone woke me up the following morning. Groaning, I reached over for my cell phone on the nightstand but accidentally knocked it onto the carpet.
“Ugh,” I moaned in irritation before reaching over to pick it up.
It was 8:16 a.m. and the caller ID indicated that it was my Aunt Linda. “What does she want?” I asked. “Hello,” I answered in a muffled tone.
“Hey! Good morning, Cameron!” Linda greeted cheerfully. Obviously, she was a morning person. “I’m calling to let you know I found the picture!”
“Hey, Aunt Linda,” I greeted exasperatedly. “I was actually still asl—”
“What are you doing right now?” she cut me off. “I’m off today. You should come over. I made homemade blueberry muffins.”
My stomach growled at the very mention of blueberry muffins. With all the shit that was going on lately, I hadn’t been eating much at all.
I pulled the covers off me and sat up in bed. “Alright. Give me an hour.”
“See you then.”
I disconnected the call and went into the master bathroom to freshen up. I had butterflies in my tummy and I was nervous as hell. I figured it was because she had found the picture of my “so-called brother.” What if she was right? What if I really did have a brother that I knew nothing about?
So many thoughts ran through my mind as I showered. Did he know about me? Where did he live? How old was he? If my father met his mother during his brief period in the military, my brother could be living anywhere in the country and not necessarily in Ohio.
After I threw on some clothes, I made my way towards Tiffany’s room. The door was closed but I figured she was awake because I heard soft music playing from the opposite side of the door.
I started to just give her space but my nosiness eventually got the best of me. As quietly as I could, I cracked open the door an inch or so and peered into her bedroom.
Tiffany stood in front of the dresser, looking at herself in the mirror as she cried softly.
What the fuck is up with her, I thought. I figured she must have been upset about what happened last night.
As her friend, I knew it was my job to console her while she dealt with whatever problems she was currently faced with but I didn’t know what to say in her case. She was so hot and cold, I didn’t want to accidentally offend her. Especially considering how sensitive and defensive she could be. Against my better judgment, I closed the door and gave her space to wallow in her own sorrows.
After grabbing Tiffany’s keys off the counter, I sent her a text message letting her know that I was taking her car for a little while. I made it to my aunt’s home in fifteen minutes tops. The front door was already open for me, but she didn’t greet me at the door like she had done last time.
“Hello?” I called out before knocking on the screen door.
“Yeah! I’m in here, Cameron,” she hollered. “Come in!”
I stepped inside and found her in the kitchen stirring a pot of oatmeal on the electric stove.
“Hello. How are you?” I asked her.
“Doing pretty good. You eat oatmeal?” she offered.
“Oh no,” I laughed. “I ate a lot as a kid,” I told her. As a matter of fact, we ate it damn near every morning in the orphanages.
“The muffins are on the counter. Help yourself.” She turned the fire off. “I’ll be right back. Let me go and get this picture.”
“Okay. Is it alright if I use your bathroom?” I asked.
“Sure. First door in the hallway on your left.”
After
using the bathroom, I made my way back into the kitchen. She still had to return so I decided to go ahead and help myself to a blueberry muffin. I took a seat at the kitchen table. I was halfway done with the muffin when she returned with a faded Polaroid picture.
“Found it last night,” she told me. “Here you go. You can have it.”
I wiped the crumbs off my hand using my jeans and took the dated photo from her—the half-eaten muffin instantly fell out my hand and onto the wooden table. My eye shot wide open at the sight of the teenage boy standing beside his mother. He was dressed in a cap and gown and it was obvious this was his graduation picture. Although the picture was old, his face was unmistakable!
This cannot be my fucking brother!
Scribbled in faded blue ink across the white strip, at the bottom of the photo, was my brother’s name and the year the picture was dated. It also said ‘From: Kenny To: Linda’ beneath the date.
No! No! No! This is not happening!
“Are you alright, Cameron?” Aunt Linda asked in a concerned tone.
Suddenly, vomit shot up my throat—I quickly dropped the photo and took off running towards the bathroom.
“Cameron?!” Linda called out.
Barely making it to the toilet, I flipped the seat up and emptied the contents of my stomach into the porcelain bowl.
Aunt Linda suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Are you okay?” she asked.
I couldn’t speak as my body jerked from the painful stomach spasms. Seconds later, more vomit shot up my throat and into the toilet.
“You aren’t pregnant, are you?” Linda asked in a low tone.
Pregnant?
With all that was going on, I had not once took that into consideration. Nor did I notice that my period was weeks late.
“Shit,” I whispered to myself.
Chapter 15
I felt like I had just saw a ghost as I took a seat on the edge of my bed. An unopened EPT pregnancy test sat on my left side as I stared off into space. I was mentally fucked up after finding out who my long lost brother was. On top of that, I was only moments away from discovering if I was pregnant or not.