A Fistful of Love: A Domestic Violence Anthology

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A Fistful of Love: A Domestic Violence Anthology Page 22

by Thomas, Dominique


  *****

  “Aimee, did you see me score that touch down?” Ashton asked, excitedly, running towards the bleachers where I was sitting.

  “Yes, I saw you! You’re a natural,” I smiled.

  “Coach says if I keep it up, I may be able to start the next game. There’s only one problem, though,” he frowned.

  “What’s up?” I asked, stopping mid-stride.

  “I need some cleats. Coach says I can’t practice in my sneakers.”

  “I’ll get you some.”

  “You’re the best,” he beamed.

  “I try.”

  “Do you think mama is still at work?” he asked when we got home and didn’t see our mother’s car parked in the driveway.

  “Possibly. Let me call her.”

  We walked into the house and it looked just like it did when we’d left. There was no sign of our mother, letting us know she hadn’t arrived yet. Worry began to sink in when I called her ten times in a row and didn’t get an answer. My mother always had her phone on her and if she couldn’t answer she would always hide in a corner to send me a text message.

  Just when I was about to call her again, there was a knock at the door. Placing my phone on the table, I walked over to the door and answered it. Mr. Smith, one of my mother’s bosses, was standing at the door. The worried look on his face made my heart rate speed up.

  “Aimee, your mother passed out at work today. She didn’t want to alarm you. That’s why she hasn’t called.”

  “Oh God, is she ok?” I frantically asked.

  “Yes, she’s fine. Her blood pressure and stress levels are high. I have to let her go.”

  “Let her go?” I panicked.

  “Yes, your mother is an excellent worker, but she needs to take better care of herself. I understand that she has debt that she has to pay, but her life matters. I can’t have her killing herself. She needs the rest,” he replied, honestly.

  What he was saying was very much true, but my mother was too hard headed to understand. If she would just work one job and allow me to pick up a second, then we could manage. Money would be super tight, but she wouldn’t be as stressed.

  “Here is a check for five thousand dollars. It’s not much, but I think this will help out until your mother gets better.”

  “Thank you very much, Mr. Smith,” I replied, wiping a few tears from my eyes.

  “You’re a strong woman. Life may look rough now, but everything will work itself out. My wife will stay with her tonight so you can situate your brother. Come by in the morning.”

  “Thank you very much. I really appreciate it.”

  “Anytime. Good night.”

  “Good night,” I replied closing the door.

  After ordering my brother to bed, I walked in my mother’s room to straighten up. As I was stripping the bed of its blanket, a stack of papers fell from underneath her mattress. Picking up the papers, I was going to put them back until I saw all of the final notices in red. Flipping through the papers, I calculated that my mother was twenty thousand dollars in debt. Most of the letters were from creditors threatening to garnish her wages if she didn’t contact them with payment. Gathering the paperwork, I placed them on the nightstand while I cleaned her room.

  “Oh God,” I slid on the floor and cried.

  I immediately began to miss my father. Before he got sick he always made sure the bills were paid. He made a very lucrative living as a contractor, allowing my mother to become a stay-at-home mom. Now that he was gone, I was lost. My mother was hospitalized due to stress and I didn’t want to lose her like I lost my father.

  With the five thousand dollars I would be able to pay back some of the creditors and request a payment plan, but my mother would still be fifteen grand in the hole. I figured, if I stripped at the club for a month, I’d be able to pay off my mother’s debt and she’d be able to breathe easier. Picking up the phone, I called Shanice and told her I was in.

  Chapter 2

  Aimee

  (Six months later)

  Somebody come to the floor, it feels like we've met before

  Somebody come get her, she's dancin' like a stripper

  Somebody come get her, she's dancin' like a stripper

  Somebody come tip her, she's dancin' like a stripper

  Somebody come get her, she's feelin' all the liquor

  I strutted on stage to Rae Sremmurd’s “Come Get Her”. I grabbed my leg and pointed it straight in the air, then started spinning on my tiptoe. Since I’d started dancing at Ro-Lexx six months ago, my dancing had improved. Instead of doing the typical ass twerking, I used my ballet skills to my advantage. None of the girls in the club were able to master my flexibility, that is why I was the second highest paid dancer there, my best friend Shanice being the first.

  Pulling off my top I revealed my perky, pierced nipples and began toying with one while dropping down into a front split. Lifting my right leg to my ear, I began popping my ass to the beat. Getting on my hands and knees, I crawled over to this sexy brother that looked out of place. Every male in the club was wearing designer jeans and t-shirts, but he was dressed in an Armani suit. When I got close enough to him, I turned my back towards him and did a flip off the stage, landing in his lap.

  For some reason, I was drawn to him. The way he showed no interest in me made me want to break him down. Popping my ass in his lap, I bent in and licked his neck. I had never been so bold in my life, but becoming a dancer certainly broke me out of that shy shell. The handsome, dark-skinned guy I was dancing on smirked as I slithered like a snake on him. His demeanor had cockiness all over it, and for the first time in a long time, I was turned on by a man.

  The way I never showed interest in men, a lot of people thought I was gay. But really, I was just guarding my heart. Back when I was living in New York for school, I fell in love with a guy named José. He was a beautiful half Spanish, half African-American God. He had my nose wide open and he knew it. Long story short, he ended up disappearing. I searched for him high and low but it was like he fell off the face of the earth. Since then, I’d closed my heart off when it came to men. I hadn’t dated or been with another man since. He was my first everything; the fact that he left me without as much as an explanation hurt me to the core. Shortly after my father died and I moved back home, I had no time to date. Guys would talk to me and I would take their numbers as an act of kindness, but I never took them seriously.

  This guy that I was trying my hardest to seduce had my interest and, for some odd reason, I wanted to get to know him. Rubbing my hand over his deep waves had me feeling seasick. The sexy chocolate brother reminded me greatly of the rapper 50 Cent. I was enticed by this fine specimen, from his gently trimmed goatee, to his broad shoulders, down to his built, muscular frame. He finally relaxed and pulled out a wad of money from his pocket. Instead of separating the bills and making it rain on me, he placed the massive wad of money in the crack of my ass, then got up and left.

  I wanted to walk after him, but my second song started and I had a show to finish. With images of that sexy brother running through my mind, I put on the best performance that Club Ro-Lexx had ever seen. In my mind I was dancing for the gentleman that had left my mind in a frenzy.

  “Yaaaaass bitch!” Shanice cheered as I walked off the stage.

  “I was that good?” I asked.

  “Girl, you fucked it up!”

  “Did you see that guy in the Armani suit sitting in the baller’s section?”

  “You mean the 50 Cent look alike?”

  “Yeah, him. Have you seen him before? Today was my first time seeing him,” I rambled on.

  “That’s the owner’s brother. Let me find out you crushing,” she smiled.

  “Maybe.”

  “Lordt, where is the thermometer?” Shanice dramatically said placing her hand on my forehead. “You crushing over someone other than José is surprising. That nigga had your head all the way fucked up.”

  “That’s the past,” I re
plied, blinking away the tears. The situation with José was still a fresh wound even though it’d been five years.

  “Good. I’m glad to see you’re moving on and finally considering dating.”

  “Yeah, well, you know,” I shrugged.

  We made small talk while we dressed to go home. We never stayed to make rounds around the club on school nights. After we danced we would tip-out and leave. Although we danced for a living it was only temporary. As soon as I finished my business management classes and saved up enough money to open up my dance studio, this stripping thing was a wrap for me.

  Since I now lived in the same neighborhood as Shanice, we carpooled. My first month of stripping I was able to pay off my mother’s debt. By the second month, I packed my family up and moved them into a nice three-bedroom condo down the street from Shanice. My third month of dancing, I had my mother quit her job. We were free of all government assistance and I was handling all the bills.

  After dropping Shanice off at home, I drove to my house and parked my Lexus next to the brand new Infiniti that I’d bought my mom for Mother’s Day.

  “When do you plan on quitting, Aimee?” my mother asked me as soon as I walked in the house.

  Since she was no longer stressing over bills, her natural beauty had returned. My mother was the reason they said black don’t crack. At the age forty-two, she looked like she was still eighteen. She stood about 5’3 and weighed one hundred and fifty pounds. She was a short and thick red bone with long, sandy brown hair.

  “As soon as I finish school and open up my own dance studio, I’m finished mama,” I replied. I hated when we had this conversation.

  The only reason my mother knew I was dancing was because I had to explain all of the extra money I was bringing in. She started demanding answers when I moved us into our spacious home, so I had no choice but to tell her. At first my mother didn’t talk for me for weeks, but once she realized that I was grown and was going to do what I wanted to do regardless, she gave up and came around. She didn’t like that I was stripping, and she didn’t miss the opportunity to tell me about it every time I came home.

  “Well, I was thinking about setting up the back room to start running a daycare.”

  “You should go for it, mama,” I replied, grabbing an apple from the fridge.

  “Apple,” she laughed at the irony as she called me by my stage name.

  “Save it,” I smirked, grabbing a bottle of water.

  “If you decide to eat more than just that apple, your dinner is in the oven.”

  “Thanks, ma.”

  “Anytime, baby,” she said, retiring to her room.

  On my way to my room, I stopped into Ashton’s room to check on him. His eleventh birthday was in two weeks and I had a huge laser tag party planned for him. All I wanted to do was give Ashton the same childhood I’d had. Growing up for me was filled with joy and laughter, and I wanted it to be the same for him.

  After a quick shower, I put on my bra and panty set. Then, I slipped a silk robe over my body. Since I was going to throw on clothes for school in the morning, there was no reason for me to put clothes on. Sitting on my bed, I opened my Jansport book bag and poured the money on my bed. The first thing that caught my eye was the band of money that Mr. Handsome had slipped me. Popping the rubber band, I counted it first.

  “GOOD GAWD!” I exclaimed. He had slipped me ten thousand dollars.

  After counting up all of my earnings, I had seventeen thousand dollars to add to my savings. I took out five thousand of it to put in my mother’s account and stored the rest in my safe. Picking up my Marketing Theory book, I started on my homework. The thought of me owning my own dance studio motivated me to finish school. I only had a year and a half of school left before I got my degree in Business Management with a minor in Performing Arts. I was so close to my dream that I could taste it.

  Slamming my book closed, I texted Shanice our code word “Done” letting her know that I’d completed my homework. I waited until she sent me her “Done” text before pulling back my comforter and falling into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 3

  Lucas

  “Mr. Stinger, your brother is here to see you,” my brother’s half-dressed assistant said, leading me into his office.

  “Thank you, Peanut. That ass getting fat,” I replied, smacking her on the ass making it jiggle.

  “Aye, stop harassing my assistant,” my brother, Jordan, said.

  “Why, because you hit that?” I smirked.

  “The minute I hired her,” he laughed, giving me a fist pound. “What’s good, bro?”

  “Apple,” I replied.

  “Oooh, you like that,” he smiled, pulling out her file and placing it on his desk.

  “It’s something about her sexy ass. Did you hit that?” I asked with a raised brow.

  “Nah. It ain’t even that type of party. I tried when she auditioned, though. She’s one of those good girls that got dealt a bad hand,” he replied.

  Looking through the files that my brother had on every girl that worked for him, I was impressed.

  “Her and her best friend Shanice are my two school girls. On school nights, they come in to perform only, then leave. They barely walk the floor. They’re also my highest paid dancers,” my brother said.

  “I want her,” I replied, flipping through her pictures.

  “Lucas, I need her,” my brother stressed.

  “You’re running a million dollars strip club, I’m sure you can replace her.”

  “I hate when you do this shit!” he yelled, slamming his hand on the desk. “You did the same shit with Tootsie Roll.”

  “Yeah, but that bitch couldn’t change. Once a hoe, always a hoe, but her,” I said pointing to Aimee’s picture, “she has potential.”

  “Buy her out,” my brother challenged.

  “What’s your price?”

  “I want fifty thousand dollars, and she’s yours.”

  “You want me to pay fifty thousand dollars for her?” I asked.

  “What’s the problem CEO Lucas of Lucas Architects, Inc.? You got the money. Your firm was featured number one in Forbes Magazine. You’re one of the highest paid Architects, plus you just signed a major deal rebuilding the Pope’s home. Yeah, you got that dough,” he smirked.

  Pulling out my checkbook, I sat it on the table and wrote the check for fifty thousand dollars. I wasn’t hurting behind the money, so it didn’t matter to me. I was getting old and it was time for me to settle down. At thirty-six, I’ve had my share of women, now it was time for a wife. A strip club wasn’t your ideal place to search for a wife, but the moment my eyes landed on Aimee, I felt my heart tug. No woman has ever had that effect on me, not even my first love, Tootsie Roll.

  Tootsie Roll was a stripper that I met when my brother first opened his club. She was one of his best strippers and someone I had to have. Although I gave her a beautiful daughter and everything money could buy, the bitch still ran off with my money and child, leaving me with a broken heart. I pay her five thousand dollars a month in child support just for her to sit back and enjoy my money with my bitch ass ex-best friend and business partner, Roger. I swore if I ever saw his ass again, I would kill him with my bare hands.

  “What makes you think she won’t be another Tootsie Roll?” my brother asked.

  “She don’t look like the type,” I replied.

  “You can’t judge a book by its cover.”

  “I know, but that’s a chance I’m willing to take,” I replied, sliding him the check.

  “Keep it. Consider it my wedding gift… if you guys ever make it that far,” he laughed.

  “Trust me, we will,” I replied, ripping up the check. “Fire her tonight. Text me when it’s done.”

  “Anything for you, boss,” he smiled.

  I walked out of Jordan’s office and Peanut was sitting at her desk popping her ass to Drake and Future’s newest hit, “Jump man”. I was in need of a nut so I decided to fuck with her.

&
nbsp; “When you gonna quit this job and come work for a real boss?” I smirked, rubbing her exposed thigh.

  “When a real boss come by and hire me,” she flirted back.

  “How good can you ride a dick?”

  “I’m a fool on the dick, best believe that.”

  “Show me. Consider this your interview.”

  She got up and led me to the green room that was strictly for private dance purposes. Jordan had security in each section just to ensure none of his dancers were tricking off in his establishment. Hitting the security with a head nod, I watched him disappear as I took a seat on the lime green sectional.

  “I don’t want to see you dance, I just want my dick sucked and some pussy,” I said, getting to the point.

  Removing the little clothing she had on, she got on her knees and unleashed the beast. Standing eleven inches tall at attention, her mouth began to water. She looked at my dick in awe, wondering how the fuck a man could pack so much. Not really down for the formalities, I pushed her head down on my dick and laughed when she choked. Easing up a bit, she relaxed her jaws and in no time she was taking all of me down her throat.

  “Fuck, girl,” I groaned as she gagged, causing a euphoric sensation to hit me.

  “Suck this shit,” I coached, wrapping my hand around her weave, praying none of her tracks detached.

  My nut intensity began building up so I pushed her off, grabbed a condom and rolled it on my dick.

  “Ride this shit like your life depends on it.”

  Licking her lips, she jumped in my lap and rode my shit like it was the first of the month and she needed her rent paid. Peanut’s pussy didn’t grip my dick the way I liked and that was odd because I was packing. With my mind on Aimee, I thought back to the dance she gave me and, in no time, I was spilling my seeds all into the XL Magnum. Never the type to be a selfish sex partner, I allowed her to wildly bounce on my dick until she was screaming from an overwhelming orgasm.

  “How did I do?” She huffed.

 

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