Stud Princess

by N'Tyse

  “Awww! Awww !” Ty hollered out in pain every time Chyna fist-fucked and slapped at her belly.

  “I own this shit!” Chyna yelled louder. She gripped Ty by the throat, digging her nails into her skin until she drew blood. The markings from the cord were still visible, but Chyna knew it was nothing a few rubs of cocoa butter couldn’t fade. “Look at me, dammitt! I own it,” she said, jerking Ty’s neck so hard it popped. “And believe me, I will kill you if you ever forget that shit. Do you understand me?”

  Ty nodded repeatedly as tears continued to pour from her eyes. The pressure from Chyna’s knee in her belly had her folding over, clutching her stomach. She didn’t know which hurt worse. Her eye, her stomach, or the constant pounding in her pussy.

  Everyone was quiet as Chyna stood to her feet, half-naked in heels. She picked her keys up from the end table and tossed them to Sand. “Take this bitch to Parkland. They ask what happened, you found her that way.” She gave Sand a serious look that dared her to disobey. “Have ’em patch her up and send her back to me. Ain’t no sick time on my clock!” she hollered, looking in the direction of upstairs where the girls were all packed together.

  Chyna didn’t give her girls any reason to not maintain their full potential dollar limits. Each of them was on some sort of birth control shot that prevented them from getting pregnant and eliminated their monthly “visitor.” She didn’t want anything throwing them off rotation and interfering with her cash flow. So not even Mother Nature could come between her and her money. Not if she could help it. Chyna had this escort business down to a tee. When it was time to get out there and make that money, that’s exactly what she needed to happen. No excuses.

  She walked into her downstairs bedroom, closing and locking the door behind her. It was the only place she felt safe in her own house, but even there, she had countless nightmares of ending up like her mother, stretched out naked with a black bag tied around her head, waiting for someone to discover her body. She tried to shake those paranoid thoughts, but there wasn’t a night that went by when those fears didn’t haunt her in her sleep.

  Sand stood in the same spot with an incredulous look across her face. Chyna had just beat the living shit out of this girl, and now she wanted her to go to the hospital and get stitched up. Sand was missing something entirely. She hurried over to Ty. “It’s all right,” she tried consoling her as she helped her up from the floor.

  Ty wrapped her arms around Sand’s lean body. “Please get me out of here. I’ll die if I stay in this house!” she cried out like a baby while bloody saliva dangled from her bottom lip and skated down her chin.

  “Let me just get you some help first, ’cause you bleeding pretty damn bad,” Sand told her as she unknowingly made faces at the sight of Ty’s wounds. She guessed that Ty would need at least ten to fifteen stitches. The gash above her left eye had reopened, and squirts of blood oozed down her face. Sand tried her best to remain calm, but the sight of all that blood made her nervous, especially when Ty had two bruised eyes, scratches, and cuts that looked like knife wounds to go along with it.

  Sand knew she didn’t want to risk being questioned about Ty’s condition. She knew the picture it would paint of her. So to avoid all that, she had already made up her mind that she would be dropping Ty off and leaving the rest of that shit for Chyna to handle. She wasn’t about to get involved in her whorehouse drama.

  “Go get some clothes on,” Sand told her. “I’ll wait down here.”

  “Ooookkkaaayyy,” Ty sniffled. She barely made her way over toward the stairs without her sore bones cracking. All eyes were glued to her. A few of them with evil smiles spread across their faces, clearly making it known that they thought the shit was funny and that she deserved every brutalizing blow. Ty moved at the pace of a crippled person as she climbed the stairs one at a time, using the iron railing for support so that she wouldn’t drop to her knees or fall to her messed-up face. Her ribs hurt so badly, and the excruciating pain that shot around her pussy felt like rape to another degree. With every step she took, rampaging anger soared through her body, but she couldn’t react. At least not now.

  Where Ty was physically incapable, her psyche was not. She was on some flip mode killer-type shit. If she had a gun, she’d blow Chyna’s brains out and feed the pieces to the first hungry stray dog that came her way. Never had she felt so humiliated. Never had she felt like murdering a bitch. The blood flowing through her veins was so hot it was boiling. She cut her eyes at each and every last one of Chyna’s girls as she passed them by. All of them had watched her get her ass whooped and did nothing.

  “What the fuck are you laughing at?” she charged at one of them. But no one was stupid enough to say anything. “Fuck every last one of y’all. You, you, you, and you, bitch!” Ty spat angrily. She made her way into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. She was gonna get at every last one of them hoes in due time.

  9

  Sand pulled up alongside the fire lane in front of Parkland’s emergency room. She kept her hand on the steering wheel and made no attempt to move.

  “Aren’t you getting out?” Ty asked before opening the passenger door.

  “Naw, I think it’s best I come back and get you. I don’t want no part of this shit.”

  “I’m not going in there by myself. Look at me!” Ty pointed to her face as she wiggled her neck around. Frustration settled in every crease of her skin, starting with the lines in her forehead.

  “I see you,” Sand said, “and you need stitches, or else you gonna be walking around here with a hole in your face.”

  Ty shook her head again. “I don’t wanna go in there by myself. Please, Sand. Come with me,” she whined.

  “Look, I’m not about to get involved with all that. Now we here. Go do what you gotta do.”

  “I’m not going in then,” Ty stated, copping an attitude.

  Sand looked around, then back at Ty. “Excuse me?” She started digging in her ears, determined to clear out the wax that was obviously causing her hearing dysfunction. “What was that? I didn’t hear you,” she said, leaning farther into Ty.

  “I said, I’m not going in there. Fuck it. Might as well walk around here looking like a fucking mutt rat. Better yet, just take me to my kinfolk’s house. I’ll get her to take me.” Ty waved Sand off. She had made her mind up, and that was that.

  Sand was shaking her head. “Naw, naw. See, that wasn’t the plan. You gon’ either go in there, or I’m taking you back where I got you. Anything else ain’t going down on my watch.”

  Ty threw her hands up, clearly frustrated. “I’m not going in there by myself. What part are you not understanding?” she snapped.

  Sand had to catch herself. Before the counseling, before the countdown sessions, before the long walks of bringing herself to calm down, her temper was off the charts. She had scared Rene so bad one time that she wouldn’t come out of the bathroom for three straight hours, and when she finally did, she threatened to leave Sand if she ever did anything like it again. Although Sand never laid her hands on Rene, she couldn’t fight back the anger that consumed her when they would have their moments. That would be when walls got punched in, dishes got broken, pictures got ripped, and whatever was nearby got smashed. Her temper was always the reason for having to replace a broken picture frame or a new lamp. So now, with Ty, she was on the brink of losing it, and she barely even knew her ass.

  “Look, ma,” Sand paused, “I ain’t got time for no extra bullshit tonight, a’ight? I already got enough shit on my mind.” She slapped her hands together and interlocked her fingers. “Better yet, fuck it! I’m taking you back to Chyna. She can deal with it ’cause I ain’t the one.”

  “Uh-uh.” Ty reached for the door handle, and as soon as she did, Sand locked it. “Let me outta this motherfuckin’ car! I ain’t going back there,” Ty yelled in a fit. “Take me home!”

  Sand threw the car in Drive and slammed on the accelerator, burning up the asphalt in the emergency room’s par
king lot. She didn’t slow down, and she didn’t stop for the pedestrians that walked right out in front of her, only to be sent back running for the sidewalk. She gunned the engine heading back to Chyna’s. As she changed lanes, she heard it—the sound of a loud siren.

  “Shit!” Sand cursed once the flashing red and blue lights pulled behind them.

  Ty looked in the rear. “Oh my God! They gon’ haul us to jail. You got a license, right? I mean, you do know it’s illegal to drive without a license?”

  “Chill with that shit for a minute. Let me think.”

  “Oh my God. I can’t go to jail,” Ty panicked.

  “Listen, just let me talk. I got this.” Sand could feel her forehead perspiring as well as the tingling of her armpits. She was nervous as ever. She lowered the window once the officer approached her side of the car. She squinted her eyes as he pointed the flashlight directly in her face. “How you doing there, Officer?” she waved. “Everything a’ight?” she asked in a casual, I’m-innocent-until-proven-guilty tone.

  Ty continued to stare straight-ahead as if she had been ordered to do so, trying her best to not make any sudden moves.

  “Pop the trunk,” the officer instructed.

  As nervous as Sand was, her fingers fumbled underneath and around the steering wheel, trying to locate the trunk release.

  “It’s right here,” Ty said through clenched teeth. She was praying he’d let them go with a warning.

  Sand pushed the button, and the trunk instantly popped open. She tried to appear unnerved. The officer walked back to the rear of the car when another set of headlights pulled in behind him. Sand’s breathing became labored as she watched from the rearview something being lowered into the back of Chyna’s trunk. She was trying to keep calm, but Ty wasn’t making the situation any better as she rocked back and forth while sucking on her thumb like a lost child.

  “Oh God. What they doing?” Ty asked after they both felt the car rock and a loud thud hit the floor of the trunk. “I can’t take it no more. That’s it. I need to call my mama. Do you have a phone I can borrow?”

  “Ty, give it a fuckin’ rest. Shit!”

  Ty faced Sand. She couldn’t stop her lips from trembling. “You don’t understand. I can’t go to jail. That’s not a place for me,” she wailed hysterically.

  “Ssshhh. Ain’t nobody going to jail. Just keep cool, okay?” Sand promised, rubbing Ty’s shoulders. She was good at hiding her feelings because she was really just as scared as Ty was. She couldn’t go to jail either, not tonight.

  The officer slammed the trunk closed and knocked on the hood two times. When Sand looked in the rearview mirror, all the men she’d seen hovering around behind them before were getting back into their cars and pulling away. She waited a few minutes. The patrol car drove around, half-saluting her as he pulled off and proceeded through the traffic light.

  After a moment of silence, Ty decided she’d speak up. “So, you ain’t wondering what they done dumped in the trunk?”

  Sand released the car out of Park. Her right hand navigated the steering wheel while the left stroked her chin. It was a habit she had when she was bothered or just contemplating things. “I don’t wanna know what’s back there. It ain’t none of my business.” She kept straight, looking around for anything suspicious. She obeyed the 35 mph speed limit sign until she finally came up on the freeway.

  “You the one driving this motherfucka. It could be a bomb for all we know, and you ain’t worried?” Ty asked her. “Well, I am,” she said before Sand could respond. “Stop the car!”

  “We ain’t stopping, Ty. If you wanna know what’s in the fucking trunk,” Sand raised her voice above her norm, “then get Chyna to show you what’s in her damn trunk, okay? ’Cause I ain’t doing it.”

  Ty suddenly got quiet. The wheels in her head were spinning. “You owe her for something?” she asked out of nowhere. “You came short on some weight? What is it?” she asked, ruffling more than Sand’s feathers. “Oh wait, I bet I know,” she smiled, lifting her finger as if she was in somebody’s classroom. “You fuckin’ one of her bitches,” she said, already convinced. “That’s it, ain’t it? You feel obligated to stick around ’cause ya bitch caught up. I ain’t mad,” she laughed, rolling her neck. “Chyna will take it however she can get it. I’m surprised she ain’t got your ass out here selling pussy and shit. ’Cause you look like you’d bring in a killin’. I bet bitches would drop big dollars to fuck you,” she quipped, getting underneath Sand’s skin. “Yeah, just wait, though. It won’t be long before she sniffs your ass out.”

  Sand cut and rolled her eyes over her shoulders. “You sure gotta lot of fuckin’ lip for somebody that just got they ass beat. Twice in one night!”

  “I’m just saying. She’s got you running her errands and kissing her ass like you owe her for something. Like you her bitch,” she said, getting back to her original point. Her head bobbled, showing straight attitude, but apparently, she was prepared to go down in honors because her mouth was on the verge of getting her face reconstructed. Permanently.

  Sand slammed on the brakes and sent Ty’s body jerking forward. “See, that’s why your face all busted up now. It’s your disrespectful-ass mouth!”

  Ty was taken aback. She couldn’t believe Sand had the audacity to come at her like that, all because she was speaking the real.

  Sand reversed her breaths. “Look, you don’t know me. Don’t twist me up. I don’t owe nobody for shit. I’m doing Chyna a favor, and I’m looking out for an old friend in the process. So, with that being said, you need to stay the hell out of my business and worry about how you gon’ repair your face.”

  Ty bore witness to Sand’s other side.

  “I’ve dealt with scarier people in my past,” Sand enlightened Ty, looking her over.

  Ty rolled her eyes. “Regardless of all that you’re talking, we still have the right to know what’s back there.” Her perfectly arched eyebrows folded in. “It could be a dead body.”

  As Sand thought about it harder, Ty was making perfect sense. She didn’t want to be framed or set up for something she didn’t do. And knowing Chyna, she was capable of anything, including letting others go down for her dirt. That’s how people got caught up sometimes—being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was already facing similar drama with Jasmine’s murder. A murder she was being blackmailed for by Chyna. All Jasmine had been was an old fling. Now she was a concrete example of what Chyna and her ruthless crew was capable of. Sand didn’t want the same thing that happened to Jasmine to happen to Rene. She would never be able to forgive herself.

  Sand finally came to an agreement. “If you so concerned about what’s in the trunk, you go look for yourself.” She pulled the car off to the side of the freeway and placed it in Park.

  Ty looked like a curious, yet scared little girl. She looked in the side-view mirror as well as behind them. The coast was clear. She gave Sand an unsure look before sliding her hands across the door handle.

  Sand popped the trunk once again, infuriated but just as curious to know what was back there as Ty was. She adjusted the mirrors and pushed in the button to activate the hazard lights.

  Ty eased out of the car, leaving her door slightly open in case she needed to go running back. Her whole body ached as she made her way toward the back of the Lexus. She tried her best to avoid the caked-up mud and instead, stepped right into a huge puddle of muddy water, splashing her legs.

  “Dammitt,” she hissed. Cars constantly flew past them as if the roads weren’t wet at all, nearly sending her flying like a kite. She felt like a fool for wearing thigh-high cutoff shorts and a shirt with no sleeves as cool as it was out. Both scared and anxious, she lifted the trunk cautiously with the tip of her fingers until what was inside grew visible. She reached in and began unzipping the gym bag slowly. Her eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with both hands, backing away from the car in disbelief. “Oh my God. Sand!” she called out. She sucked in small amounts of air, then foun
d herself stuttering to complete her sentence. “Come, come see this shit!” Her mind was on one thing—and one thing only.

  As Sand rushed to the back of the car, Ty’s face said it all. Sand took one glimpse at what had Ty’s eyeballs about to pop out. Neither one of them could believe what they were seeing. Sand quickly slammed the trunk closed, looking around and over their shoulders, “Come on. We gotta get the fuck outta here.”

  Ty nodded. She understood. And for once, they were on one accord.

  10

  Rene leaned over into the sink, cupping her hands under the running faucet. She splashed warm water on her face. She had been in the kids’ bathroom for over an hour without realizing it, trying her damndest to figure out where in life she went wrong. Just when she thought she understood her purpose, she came to the realization that she didn’t. She wondered if all this was a hoax, just to see how far she would go or how long she would fight for real love. She even rationalized all the bad shit that kept happening to her as being some sort of sick curse. Maybe it was something she had done as a child that was just catching up to her now. Or maybe it was her mother who cursed her. Rene didn’t know why life dealt her the hand she was given, but what she did know was that the shit wasn’t fair.

  Tossing around every justified reason for her bad luck, Rene cried all night and into the morning until she emptied her tear ducts dry. Every ounce of troubling regret reminded her that it was all worth it. She had to see it through. Chyna told her that if she did what she asked of her, Sand would come back home. Rene knew it wouldn’t be long now. All she had to do was be patient and play her position. She missed Sand. She missed her so damned much that she made herself sick every time the possibility of not seeing her again entered her mind. She longed for her touch, her kiss, her compassion, and everything else they shared as lovers.

  Whenever Rene stopped and closed her eyes, she could almost feel Sand’s fingers climbing up and down her body. She missed their lovemaking. Those sex-filled nights of passion with them holding hands as they grinded to the rhythm of their headboard slapping against the wall. It was music to their ears. It was art. It was romance.