Secrets of a Side Bitch 2

by Jessica Watkins

  “Don’t play with me, lil’ girl.”

  “Miss Simone, I am not going to have any company in your house. I promise.”

  I saw straight through her little ass, but whatever. I couldn’t watch her pussy while I was trying to watch mine.

  Chance

  I had been back in Chicago for almost a week.

  I stayed in a motel on Cicero Avenue. It was a thirty dollar a night room that was consumed with a stale cigarette smell. I felt like every time I left the room, no matter the amount of cologne I bathed in, the stench of Newports was still on my skin and in my clothes.

  Despite the room only being thirty bucks a night, with feeding myself, taking the bus here and there, and copping a good winter coat to do so in, I was down to three hundred dollars.

  “Hello?”

  Simone sounded irritated when she answered; how she began to sound more and more every time we talked as time went by. I could hear the wind and music in her background. I imagined her riding around careless and worry free. I envied that. While living in Lexington, I feared being on the streets, penniless and homeless. Simone promised that that wouldn’t be me, while touching me so intimately that I fell in love with my mentor. I was so in love that I took somebody’s life on her behalf.

  Despite my loyalty, I still ended up on the streets penniless and homeless.

  Something had gone wrong in a major way.

  “I need some cash.”

  She even laughed at me cynically as she replied, “Okay. And?”

  Shortly after killing Aeysha, I started to feel like Simone had set me up. She’d used my naïveté and crush on her to kill somebody that was probably totally innocent. She’d given me this sad story about Aeysha giving her brother the flux with a divorce. She even said that Aeysha was beating her niece.

  Funny how I never heard of that brother or niece again after Aeysha was dead.

  Either way, that twenty-five thousand sounded damn good regardless of the story behind it.

  I can’t even act like I wasn’t to blame for killing Aeysha. But Simone’s complete one-eighty once I killed Aeysha was blowing the fuck outta me.

  She’d promised that she was coming to Minnesota. She went as far as to say that she wanted to be with me. She could do that if she left Lexington and came to live with me in Minnesota. She was half the reason why I initially wanted to cop those bricks. On top of needing to flip my cash, I wanted a steady income if she was going to be my lady.

  Nevertheless, week after week, she made excuse after excuse as to why she wasn’t there yet. Eventually, I figured that she was never coming. Her sudden attitude every time I called further let me know that she’d played me.

  “I’m out of cash.”

  When she heard that I was broke, Simone flipped. “What the fuck?! How?!”

  “I was robbed. The nigga I was staying with in Minnesota got me.”

  Simone growled and moaned like she was so irritated, but I didn’t give a fuck. I had done the ultimate for her. She owed me for the rest of her life. I felt like if I called her and told her to jump, her only answer should be ‘how high.’

  “I’ll send you some cash through Western Union.”

  “You don’t have to. I’m in the Chi.”

  Simone gasped so dramatically that it was slightly funny to me. “Why are you in Chicago?! Are you crazy?!”

  “I was popped! I didn’t have anywhere to stay. I don’t know shit about Minnesota, and I could swear that somebody was supposed to be there with me.”

  Suddenly, Simone’s voice went from shit to sugar. “I know, baby. I couldn’t find a job there. I couldn’t move there without a job. We would both be broke.”

  “I thought you still had some dough from selling your mom’s crib.”

  “I do, but I can’t live off of that, let alone two people.”

  I sat on the edge of the bed with my moist forehead in the palm of my hand. Constantly running after Simone mentally was making me drip streams of sweat physically. She was still playing me, but my manhood wouldn’t let me concede to that. I was determined to make her keep her end of the bargain. I refused to let the dust of her playing me settle on the surface of this murder.

  I eyed the bottle of Grey Goose that sat on the table seducing me. It was looking at me with beautiful, feminine, and seductive glass eyes, licking its intoxicating lips and calling for me.

  Simone’s empty promises interrupted me and the vodka’s flirtation. “Give me a call in a few days. I will see what I can do.”

  “A few days? I don’t have a few days, Simone.”

  More than needing cash, I had to see her. I hadn’t seen her since I left for Minnesota. I had only heard the sound of her voice. Looking into Simone’s eyes would tell me if I killed a perfectly innocent woman in exchange for twenty-five thousand dollars and a fuck in the ass.

  With sweet convincing words, she told me, “Okay, baby. Call me in two days.”

  I decided that two days was good enough and hung up. As I hung up, I still had a lot of wonder and questions running marathons in the back of my mind.

  I stood up and walked over to the picture window of the ratty motel room while turning up the bottle of Grey Goose. Even the window was filthy with fingerprints and only God knew what else. The lights of Sunset were blinking from across the street. They were calling my name. Luckily, Simone had hooked me up with a fake ID when I left town, so I could get in the club despite being underage.

  I touched my pockets. I knew that all I had was a couple hundred dollars that I needed to hold onto just in case Simone flaked on me.

  But there was nothing like naked bitches twerking in g-strings to make a nigga feel better.

  Gia

  Okay, Southside I gotta own this, snakeskin on my hat, albinI’m rich, like Lionel, I get head like Rhino

  I’m riding on my rivals, survival, viable

  Blindfold, bullets, for y’all niggas?

  I got extra

  I got extra

  I got money

  I got work for his hoes

  I got a plethora

  I was currently hanging upside down on the stainless steel pole in six-inch heels twerking remarkably to “Extra” by 2 Chainz. I was a perfectionist when it came to stripping, and I was one of the most sought after dancers in Sunset.

  Unlike many dancers who had asses and hips injected full of saline and breasts full of silicone, I was all natural. I didn’t have a big stupid ass booty or huge perky breasts. I was a petite 5’4” with a runner’s body. My ass was big enough. My breasts were luscious enough. My waist was invisible. With dark skin like a Haitian and a long Malaysian weave that fell twenty-eight inches from my scalp, I was living as I hung upside down clapping my ass.

  My pole skills were serious. I twirled, spun, and flipped like every dollar depended on it, because it did. I climbed all the way to the top of the pole. Up there, near the roof, I was able to see the patrons on the second floor balcony. They catcalled over 2 Chainz’ ratchetness. Dollar bills floated into the air and rained all over me. I recognized a few of the partiers. I smiled to acknowledge them before sliding down the pole at record speed and landing in a split at the bottom of the pole so hard that you would think that it hurt. My heels hit the floor of the stage with a loud clunk.

  Sunset was a nude strip club. Therefore, as many men made it rain, hundreds of George Washington’s kissed my skin and stuck to me.

  Since it was a Saturday night, the club was packed to capacity. Money was definitely in the building. I recognized a lot of well known dope dealers. They were real hustlers; not just dudes who stood on the block and sold weed, but men who pushed weight and drove hundred thousand dollar luxury vehicles. Luckily, I was the favorite of many of them. They stood at the stage throwing band after band of singles and five dollar bills. Some of them gave their lady a band to make it rain on me.

  Strip clubs had become such an acceptable pastime that half of the patrons in attendance were women. They stood amongst the
tight crowd at the front of the stage waving dollars in the air, beckoning for me to crawl over to them and pop my pussy in their faces.

  Rae was also in the crowd sipping, lingering, and watching – like always. She often patronized the club. She got VIP treatment when she was at Sunset because the bouncers, bartenders, and owners knew that she was Gia’s woman, one of the most popular dancers.

  As I positioned myself on all fours and twerked my ass in some girl’s face with a birthday crown on, I could see Rae sitting at a table in the farthest corner, cuddling a Corona in one hand and a double shot of Patron in the other. Her eyes were glassy as she stared at me intensely. The way she watched me was starting to get scary; as if she knew I was going to leave her any day now.

  Unfortunately, she was absolutely correct.

  I just didn’t know when. But what I did know was that her intense look was the start of some bullshit later on that night.

  The eyes of someone else caught my attention as well. They weren’t on me and that bothered me. They weren’t on any other stripper and that intrigued me. With a tall lanky stature and locs that hit his shoulders, he sat hovering over a bottle. Many naked women walked by him propositioning him. Yet, he nicely rejected their advances for lap and private dances and put his focus back on his date, Don Julio.

  2 Chainz finally stopped talking shit, so I began to quickly pick up the dollar bills that covered the stage like carpet. Reese, a bouncer, used a broom to quickly assist me as the next dancer came to the stage already popping her ass as Lil’ Wayne’s high pitched voice came spilling from the speakers accompanied with a sick bass line.

  I stuffed what I estimated to be about five hundred dollars in the Michael Kors book bag that I used to house my tips. I had already grossed over a thousand dollars in tips and it was only midnight.

  Carefully, I tipped off the stage with Reese’s assistance.

  It was pitiful the way that Rae broke her neck to catch my eye. I knew that she was trying to get my attention, but I was focused on getting this money. She was really starting to blow me with the way she wanted to walk me around on this leash. She was losing her edge. Everything that led me to fall for her in the first place was evaporating before my eyes.

  I ignored the way Rae broke her neck to get my attention. I knew that I would hear about that later, but I didn’t give a fuck. I was there to work, not babysit her insecurities.

  With interest, I walked over to the guy spooning with the Don Julio bottle. Along the way, I reserved a few offers for lap dances for later that night.

  “Hey you.” I spoke seductively as I slid my arm around his muscular shoulders. Despite being lanky, his arms and shoulders were muscular as if he did pushups.

  Initially, he nonchalantly glanced at me while replying halfheartedly. “Whad up?”

  His lack of attention made me force myself on him. I sat across from him at his table, took his bottle, and poured myself a drink. He looked curiously at my nerve. I was so bold that he had to laugh as he looked at my teasing smile.

  I was daring him to have a problem with me drinking from his bottle.

  “You’re welcome,” he said with a laugh.

  “I know I am,” I said, still smiling as I took the shot. “What’s your name?”

  For the first time that night, I saw him smile. He met my fun smile, which I gave him as an attempt to get him out of his funk.

  Finally he answered, “My name is Chance.”

  Three

  Gia

  By five o’clock the next morning, I definitely paid for ignoring Rae’s attempts to get my attention.

  She yelled and banged her hands against the steering wheel as she drove at eighty miles an hour down 94-West. “You treat me like shit, and I don’t like it! Respect me, man!”

  We were in a heated discussion as we rode home in her 2013 blacked out Tahoe.

  “What the fuck do you want me to do, Rae?! I’m a stripper! It’s my job to talk to people and get money. Not talk to yo’ ass all night!”

  “But you can talk to that nigga all night?!”

  “What nigga?!”

  I was playing dumb, but I knew who she was talking about. She was talking about Chance. Without even thinking, I’d spent nearly two hours at his table. We drank and talked shit. It wasn’t on purpose. Somehow, I was just drawn into him. Chance had such an interesting story. I’m sure the Don Julio was to blame for his openness, but he was so up front with how broke he was and that he was currently homeless and living out of a motel.

  He said that he’d just moved to Chicago from Minnesota. He’d bought two bricks to flip and his roommate robbed him. He grew up as a ward of the state. Therefore, he didn’t have any family to run to when he was forced to leave Minnesota for the same reasons.

  That’s a story you don’t hear every day. In a strip club, men give you the same story; crazy baby mama, nagging wife, rich dope boy, or rap star dreams. I was so drawn into the difference in this young cutie that I regretfully forgot that my “security” was watching me.

  “You know what nigga I’m talking about! Don’t play with me!” Rae was so angry that she was gritting her teeth while giving me her full attention, not the road. The truck began to swerve out of our lane.

  “Rae, pay attention to the road!”

  She ignored me, continuing to glare at me with fire in her eyes. She was so upset that her pale skin was turning red. “Who is he?!”

  “I don’t know him!”

  “WHO THE FUCK IS HE?!”

  The driver of the car passing us on our left blew the horn because Rae damn near collided with him. She finally took control of the steering wheel and gave the road her full attention.

  “Are you seriously arguing with me over a nigga at the club?! You’ve got to be kidding me!” Tears were in my eyes. “I can’t do this shit no more!”

  Officially, I was done. There was no use in staying in this relationship any longer. I was unhappy, and Rae did nothing to make it any better. Rae was too fucking delusional. No matter what, we would consistently end up in arguments like this because there was something wrong in her that I could not fix, nor was I willing to.

  She had some serious mental issues that needed professional help.

  Rae saw my tears, and she knew. She saw my surrender towards this relationship. At five in the morning, with the feeling of dollar bills still against my skin, with the stench of smoke still in my hair, I was so done with this relationship. Chance showed me that. I didn’t even know him. But as he sat there and told me that he was broke and homeless, I envied him. I was willing to give anything to be in his position, rather than feeling Rae’s burning brown eyes glaring at me from the corner like a pedophile. Though broke and homeless, Chance was free to change his life for the better, to move about life without somebody weighing him down.

  Though far from broke or homeless, I didn’t have those options because I felt chained to somebody.

  As Rae got off of the expressway and went west on Eighty-Seventh Street, I noticed that she hadn’t responded to me. Suddenly, her hostility was out of the window. Suddenly, she was passive, not aggressive. That assured me even more that I was done. The way that she flipped so quickly showed me how she so pathetically needed me. She held onto this relationship so tight, not because she loved me or wanted to be my partner, but because she didn’t know how to be herself without me.

  That was a dangerous situation that I no longer wanted to be a part of.

  “Rae, we need some space.”

  Usually I just dealt with her instability because I felt sorry for her. But, finally, I felt sorry for myself.

  “I’m not happy. I haven’t been for a long time. I’m tired of arguing. I’m tired of explaining myself. I need some space.”

  “Just like that?”

  I met her eyes. When I saw that we both had tears slowly flowing down our beautiful feminine faces, I realized that we were two very confused and lost women that needed time apart to figure things out.

&
nbsp; “Yes. Just like that.”

  Just as the words left my lips, Rae pulled up in front of our house on Princeton. I hopped out of the car before she could say whatever it was that her tears were planning to say. I was tired, sleepy and very ready to sleep freely, not with my insecure girlfriend holding me in a bear hug all night.

  “Can we talk about this?”

  The way she begged made my skin crawl. I walked into the house wondering how truly confused she had to be to be a woman dressed like a man acting like such a pussy.

  “No. I don’t feel like talking, Rae. It’s five o’clock in the morning and I just want to get some sleep.” As I walked into the house and into the living room, I threw my duffle bag onto the floor. Then I told Rae, “Sleep on the couch.”

  “What?!”

  She was behind me before I knew it, grabbing my arms so tight that my bones crunched in her tight grip.

  “Let me go!”

  I fought to get away. She fought to keep me in her grasp. I began to swing as much as I could, which wasn’t much.

  “You just gone leave me like this?! It’s that easy?!”

  “Let me go, Rae!”

  “Is it somebody else? Who you fuckin’?!”

  I couldn’t believe this bitch. I looked at her like she was crazy as I fought to get out of her grip. “Let me go, bitch!”

  “Who is he?!”

  It was funny how Rae instantly assumed that this somebody else was a he.

  Just to be catty, I replied, “None of your fucking business! Now what?!”

  Bam!

  Her fist made rapid and hard contact with my eye. I fell to my knees, allowing a sharp cry to escape my lips as I held my eye with both hands. The punch hurt, but the fact that she hit me hurt much worse. I had never been hit before in my life, and for the first time to be with my live-in lesbian lover was further proof that my love life needed a renovation.

  I could hear Rae apologizing over and over again. I could hear her beginning to cry. I could feel her hovering over me, attempting to gently stand me up.