“Bingo!” Alton announced when he found what the Internet had classified as Denver Peak’s porn debut. Alton clicked on the link to view a preview of the film. He picked up his Bible and flipped the pages, tears welling up in his eyes. He had to repent. He must be punished for his sins.
Dominique sat at the long dining room table alone with two perfect place settings. The shiny onyx plates stared back at her like evil eyes. As hungry as she was, Dominique wouldn’t dare eat without Alton. The repercussions would be too deep. Dominique didn’t have much of an appetite anyway after she had seen on Hollywood Insider that Casey had been released from the hospital and that she planned on giving a tellall interview to 50 Minutes about her life as a porn queen and attempt to explain her botched suicide. The reporter had said that Casey was prepared to talk about her childhood, her rise in the porn industry, and reveal some of the dark secrets of the business. The thought of Casey coming clean about everything made Dominique queasy. She definitely had to ask Casey for one favor–not to expose her. It was the least Casey could do for her, given their past.
Dominique sat at the empty table for over two hours before nodding off to sleep. Her dreams were interrupted by the ringing doorbell. It was 7:30 in the evening and she hadn’t been expecting anyone, although Alton was usually home by now. Since she and Alton had moved all the way out to Dix Hills, Long Island, no one came to visit. Alton’s church was in Brooklyn and his assistant conducted all of their business from that location.
Dominique padded toward the entrance, trying to peek through the slim glass panels at either side of the front door. She could see that it was a man. “Can I help you?” she called out, not daring to open the door. She still had not figured out how Jordan had found her phone number when Casey had attempted suicide.
“Ms. Camden . . . um . . . Dominique Branch. I’m Detective Brice Simpson,” Brice yelled from the other side of the door. Dominique’s heart raced painfully and her knees buckled slightly. She immediately began to think the worst. Alton was in a car accident. Someone was dead.
“Yes,” she confirmed.
“I need to speak with you. It’s very important,” Brice yelled from the other side of the door, placing his badge up to the glass so she could be sure of his identity.
Dominique pulled open the door. She was blinking a mile a minute and her upper lip quivered. She looked at the detective from head to toe. He was taller than Alton. Dominique had a bad habit lately: she judged every man she came into contact with on whether they possessed things different or the same as Alton.
“Sorry to come so late, Ms. Camden. I need to ask you some questions about Jordan King, also known as Jordan Bleu,” Brice said, shoving Jordan’s picture toward Dominique. Dominique looked down at the picture and cringed as if she had seen the devil himself. She wrapped her arms around her waist and cleared her desert-dry throat.
“How did you know I was here?” Dominique’s voice cracked.
“I tracked you through My House . . . your history,” Brice informed her.
Dominique swallowed the lump in her throat. “We can’t speak here. My husband will be home soon and he doesn’t . .
. well, he . . .” Dominique started.
“Wherever you want to go is fine with me. But I desperately need your help,” Brice said with emotion.
“I’m sorry, Detective. I can’t help you. I don’t know anything about Jordan Bleu. My dealings with him have long since been over,” Dominique said, stepping back with her hand on the door.
“Please. You may be my only hope right now,” Brice pleaded, placing his foot between the door and the frame.
“You have to find someone else to help you. Maybe Casey Pete . . . She is . . . she and Jordan are . . . Like I said, Detective. I wish I could help you but I just can’t,” Dominique said, her entire body feeling numb. Dominique wasn’t ready to complete her journey through the past, especially not with this stranger.
“You should think about saving another girl like yourself,” Brice said, lowering his head as she slammed the door in his face.
Dominique turned her back to the door and slid down to the floor. She began sobbing. “When I got clean and got married and moved into the big house it was all supposed to be better,” she sobbed, speaking out loud to God. She didn’t know why she couldn’t just speak to the man and purge herself of her past sins once and for all.
Chapter Ten
Lies and Betrayal
New York
“I can’t believe this niggah left me out here,” Dominique mumbled under her breath as she stormed toward her building. Jordan had not come to pick her up from work like he usually did. “What if a muthafucka had decided to go crazy on my ass? I would’ve been left for dead. Bastard . . . can’t believe his spiteful ass,” she continued her rant.
Last night Dominique and Jordan had argued over Casey’s pitiful earnings. Dominique had come to Casey’s defense since Jordan had gotten in Casey’s face about how naive she’d been for only accepting $200 from one of their wealthier clients. Jordan was always on them about bringing in more money. Dominique wasn’t afraid to voice her opinion to Jordan, but when he looked like he was about to strike Casey, she’d jumped in the line of fire. She knew how violent Jordan could become.
Jordan had changed from the days when it was just the two of them. He had become more aggressive and had even gotten physically violent with her on a few occasions. Dominique told herself she would stay with Jordan for a little while longer just for the protection he provided when she was out on the street. Given what happened to her the one time she tried to turn a trick on her own, Dominique told herself that as soon as she could figure out a way around his crazy ass, she would take Casey and run. The two of them could open up their own high-class escort service and Dominique could get her ass off the streets. Although Dominique knew Casey didn’t deal with the grimy johns she dealt with, she worried about her anyway.
Over time, the two had become best friends. Dominique leaned on Casey for moral support when she missed her mother and Casey did the same. They reminisced with each other about the good times in their childhoods but also helped each other through the rough times.
Dominique rushed her last trick and raced home to see how much Casey had banked for the night. Casey usually brought in big bucks because of the type of clients she dealt with–rich ones. That’s why when Jordan had complained about the one time Casey’s take was low, Dominique jumped into it.
Dominique had showed Casey the trick of taking out her cut first, before giving anything over to Jordan. Dominique snatched off her heels before she began the task of climbing the stairs to the apartment she now shared with Jordan and Casey. With her key already in hand, she unlocked the door and rushed inside.
The apartment was dark and Jordan and Casey were nowhere in sight. As Dominique clicked on some lights, she could hear muffled voices. Inching around the living room, she realized that the noise was coming from the bedroom. Dominique stood by the bedroom door with every nerve ending on her body alert. She listened to the moans and sounds of skin slapping together. She recognized Casey’s voice and Jordan’s moans. The sounds assailed the inside of her ears and caused her heart to pound. How dare they fuck in her house?
Dominique flexed her jaw at their audacity. She could envision Jordan and Casey’s bodies tangled together, fitted one atop the other like the keys of a piano–ebony and ivory. Dominique swallowed the lump that was forming in the back of her throat, her instincts telling her to knock down the door and start whipping some ass, but her feet were somehow rooted to the floor. Although Dominique didn’t want to hear it, she had to listen. Just for assurance. A feeling of betrayal strangled Dominique as she heard Casey moan in ecstasy.
Jordan had been hers for years. Although Dominique and Jordan had agreed years ago after the first time they had sex that they were better off as “homie-lover-friends,” Dominique still felt that aside from the occasional worker sucking him off, he belonged to her. It s
hould have been pretty clear to Casey that he was off limits, since Dominique was the one responsible for converting Casey from a backward know-nothing to a high-priced call girl for the rich and famous. Dominique had been with her every step of the way, teaching her all the tricks of the trade. Once Casey had gotten the swing of things, Jordan had instructed Dominique to stop going on the dates with Casey. Of course, this was only after some prejudiced-ass clients complained about Dominique’s “ghetto girl” appearance.
Dominique had taken a lot of shit from Jordan for Casey’s sake. Dominique bit her bottom lip and started slamming things, making noises loud enough to alert Jordan and Casey that she was home. It didn’t seem to work. Their moans drifted through the door, making it harder for Dominique to ignore. She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. “He ain’t gettin this fucking money I worked for all night just to feed his little princess,” Dominique grumbled, snatching Jordan’s prized car keys and storming out the door.
Dominique often thought about going into business for herself; but each time she considered it, she thought of Gordo and the few other crazy johns she had encountered and immediately discarded the idea. Jordan had always offered her protection, but tonight told a different story. What if she got caught up in a bad situation tonight? How could he have possibly reached her in time? There were some pretty sick fucks out there.
Dominique drove all the way up to Harlem without getting stopped by any cops. Over the years she had learned to drive, but never bothered to get her license. She unloaded the bags of groceries she had picked up and entered the familiar building. When she knocked on the apartment door, she set the bags down knowing it would take a while. When Mama Grady finally opened the door and flashed her beautiful smile, it seemed like all of Dominique’s problems just faded away. Dominique had never forgotten Mama Grady and anytime she got a chance to visit, in between working, she did. It was the one place she could escape to that even Jordan didn’t know about.
“Hi, baby!”Mama Grady greeted, her voice rippled and fluid like water in a stream.
“I got you some fruit,”Dominique said, entering with a fake smile plastered on her face. Anytime she had something on her mind, she knew Mama Grady would make it all right.
“Well, thank you, baby. Gon’ put them in the Frigidaire and set down for something to eat,”Mama Grady instructed.
“I’m not even hungry. I just came by to say hi,” Dominique lied. She’d come by for that motherly comfort she was desperately lacking.
“Food can always turn a frown upside down,” Mama Grady laughed, her ample bosom shaking like a bowl of Jell-O.
“Mama Grady, you ever been in love with somebody who didn’t love you back?” Dominique asked, looking down at the speckles on the old Formica table.
“Why, chile, yes. When I was a girl in South Carolina, I loved this boy. Ew-wee! He was fine as wine but he loved my friend. Oh, I was so heartbroken that I stopped speaking to them but then–” Mama Grady started.
“Me too!” Dominique interjected, her face lighting up. “Dag, you always know what’s up,” Dominique whispered, wishing she were her real “mama.”
“Listen, girl. Don’t you worry about loving no man. You needs to learn to love yourself and then you gon’ find a man who will love you just the same. A man knows when you don’t have no love for yourself, so they treat you accordingly. When you love yourself, you give off a glow that tells the no-good ones to back on up,” Mama Grady consoled, hugging Dominique tight.
Dominique felt warm inside. “I’ll take some food,” Dominique said, smiling, needing to change the subject. It was either that or admit to Mama Grady that she did not know how to love herself because no one had ever loved her before, except maybe her own mama. But that was a lifetime ago.
When Sharon arrived home, Dominique knew it was time to leave. It had been years since she first met Mama Grady and no matter how nice Dominique treated Mama Grady, Sharon still did not accept their relationship. Sometimes Dominique told herself that Sharon was just jealous.
“You here again?” Sharon snorted, giving Dominique a once-over.
Dominique’s eyes hooded over. Frankly, she was tired of Sharon’s shit. “I was being leaving,” Dominique assured her, just as snide. “Bye, Mama Grady. I will see you soon,” Dominique said, giving Mama Grady her customary hug.
When Dominique got to the door, Sharon grabbed her by the arm.
“I know what you do for a living–I seen you. Don’t be bringing your dirty sex and diseases around my mama,” Sharon said through gritted teeth.
A chill shot up Dominique’s spine as she wrestled her arm away from Sharon. “Don’t you worry about what I do. At least I talk to your mama and treat her like somebody. Which is more than you can say, Ms. Social Security Check Thief,” Dominique retorted, snatching open the door.
“Don’t let me see you over here no more or I will call the cops and tell ’em what you do!”Sharon threatened as Dominique walked to her car.
Mama Grady’s words about loving herself; Sharon’s threats; and Casey and Jordan’s betrayal swirled around her head like a tornado. She slammed her hands on the steering wheel. Lately, even the purple haze couldn’t provide her with the escape that she needed.
Dominique had heard from one of the girls in the stable that black tar was the shit. It could be smoked and have the same potency as shooting up, the girl had told her. Dominique had vowed not to dabble with the hardcore shit because she’d seen its devastating effects. But the more she worked, the harder it became to deal with reality. She always felt men’s hands touching her body. Even when she showered, Dominique felt like she could not get the smell of semen or saliva off. The raw scent of sex stayed with her and it was slowly driving her mad.
Dominique unfolded the foil wrapper with the drug inside. She looked at the little black lump that she had harbored in her bag for over two weeks. She’d been contemplating taking it, but hadn’t been courageous enough to take the final step. This time, she went for it. The girl had instructed Dominique to put the lump in her weed bong and just light up the bottom. Dominique followed the instructions to the letter and found a place that she could go where she felt no pain.
Casey had become a new woman since being rescued from the streets. She walked with an air of confidence and always sold sex to the highest bidder. For Casey, it was the ultimate way to tell the prophet to go fuck himself. Everything she had learned as a child didn’t matter. This was her life now.
Dominique had really gone out of her way to break Casey in to the life–she’d even showed her how to tongue kiss properly before her first real date. Casey and Dominique shopped, laughed and cried together. She confided in Dominique about everything, except her “thing” with Jordan. She was afraid it might make Dominique jealous. Casey had noticed that Dominique could be very territorial when it came to Jordan. Uncomfortable with keeping secrets from her friend, Casey told herself that she would just have to find the right time to tell Dominique.
When Dominique arrived back at the apartment, Jordan was furious. “Where the fuck you been with my car?” he boomed.
“Out,” Dominique said dryly, tossing his keys at him.
“What the fuck you mean, ‘out ? If you was going out, why the fuck you took my car? You were supposed to be working anyway!” Jordan ranted, his black face turning almost purple.
“Yeah, I’m supposed to be working while the fucking great white hope entertains you, right?” Dominique spat.
“Stop being fuckin jealous and step up your game!” Jordan barked, his vindictive words like a slap in the face.
Casey came sauntering out of the bedroom to investigate the ruckus. She wore a sheer bathrobe, her golden locks hanging down on either side of her neck just enough to cover her nipples. She looked like a movie star.
Dominique sucked her teeth. “This bitch,” Dominique muttered under her breath.
Casey didn’t say anything. The tension in the room was palpable and Casey thought if she o
pened her mouth things might implode.
“Yo, Diamond, for real. You better check yourself before you wreck yourself. A niggah ain’t in the mood for your shenanigans,” Jordan warned.
“Fuck you, you fuckin’ traitor. I was the one there for you when C-Lo played your little punk ass. You ain’t nuthin but a bitch-ass niggah,” Dominique replied, letting hurt dictate her words and cloud her judgment. Dominique rolled her eyes and turned her back on Jordan. She suddenly felt a rush of wind, then a sharp pain like her neck was being yanked from her body. Jordan grabbed a handful of her weave and dragged her backward. Dominique yelped in pain.
“Don’t ever fuckin’ disrespect me. I made you and I own you,” Jordan growled, his hot breath burning her face like a torch. Shocked, Dominique was incapable of speech. Jordan was out of control again and she knew just how far he could go. He unraveled his hand from her hair and shoved her to the ground. Dominique landed on her knees, prostrate in front of him, as if to beg for mercy.
“Now get the fuck up and give me my money!” Jordan spat. Casey looked on helplessly, unable to decide whether her allegiance lay with her lover or friend.
Two weeks had passed since Jordan and Dominique’s dust-up. The two went through the days avoiding each other. Some nights he would pick Dominique up to assure her of his protection, but other nights he left her to fend for herself. Casey felt caught in the middle of the feud. Dominique barely spoke to her anymore, although Casey had tried several times to apologize for whatever she had done to upset her friend.
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