“What’s good, Ken?” Dixyn asked as she slipped inside the car.
“You!” Kendra snapped. “I told you to be ready when I got here. I get here and you’re nowhere to be found.”
“C’mon, you of all people should know women take a long time to get their shit together. My bad, it wasn’t like I was purposely trying to be late.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Kendra replied. “Never mind me. I just wanna make sure we get there on time to get all this money.” Shaking off her annoyance, she backed out of the driveway and concentrated on the road. She wanted to get to Crystal City, Virginia, as quickly as possible. As Kendra merged onto the highway, she finally felt relaxed enough to strike up a conversation.
“Guess what?”
“What?”
Kendra began, “You not goin’ to believe this. A couple hours afta you left the club the police raided that joint.”
“You lyin’?”
“Girl, I wish. I was there when it happened. Like a hundred cops, sheriffs, and state troopers busted up in there. Muthafuckas started emptyin’ they pockets, throwin’ drugs and other illegal shit on the fuckin’ floor, stashin’ shit in the seats. It was crazy.”
“Wwwwhhhhhaaaaaat? I’m glad I left when I did.”
“That’s not all. Guess what else happened?”
“What?” Dixyn replied.
“They arrested Notti,” Kendra said. “They walked his ass upstairs to his office.”
“What they arrest him for? What did he do?”
“I heard it was for some drugs they found up in his office. All I know is I saw them escort his fat ass upstairs, then a few minutes later they bought him back down in cuffs.”
“Wow!” Dixyn gasped. Her mind flashed back to the heated conversation she’d overheard between Notti and B-Dub. His harsh words toward Notti hadn’t been empty threats. He had made good on them after all. Rather than sharing what she knew with Kendra, however, Dixyn decided to keep it to herself, especially having seen firsthand what happened to people who crossed B-Dub.
“Listen, that ain’t the half of it. They brought in drug-sniffin’ dogs and searched the entire club, bathroom, locker room, and all. They ran everybody’s name for warrants, and if you had one, they took ya ass in,” Kendra explained.
Dixyn listened intently, letting her imagination paint the picture of the police raid. “Did a lot of people get locked up?”
“Not as many as you might think. Nobody you know. Anyway, what happened to you last night?” Kendra asked. “Wasn’t you supposed to go see Notti in his office?”
“I was goin’ up there, but on the way I spotted this guy I knew from back in the day, so I went outside and hid in my car for a while. By the time he finally left, I decided to leave too.”
“Fa real? Notti told me to tell you that if you plan on continuin’ to work at the club, then you need to show up more often, not whenever you feel like it. He said the next time you don’t show up when you’re scheduled to work, don’t bother comin’ back.”
Dixyn wasn’t too concerned. She had heard Notti issue similar threats to a few other girls. Strip joints in the DC area were a dime a dozen. If Notti fired her, she could take her show on the road if need be.
“I guess you don’t have to worry about that now. His fat ass got bigger problems to deal with than worryin’ ’bout you, like getting the hell outta the county jail.”
“You got that right,” Dixyn said.
“If you ask me, I think the nigga was bluffin’. He been sayin’ the same shit to different bitches for years. You know what I say, right? Fuck ’em. I’m tired of talkin’ ’bout his sorry ass.”
Dixyn was happy to drop the subject. “So Kendra, lemme ask you something. Are we gonna be the only chicks there?”
“Of course not,” Kendra responded. “Fonda and Chocolate is meetin’ us there. You know Chocolate, right?”
“I know of her, like who she is, but I don’t know her personally.”
“Well, don’t worry, she cool peeps. ’Bout her money like everybody else,” Kendra assured her.
In Dixyn’s mind the term “about her money” could only mean one thing: Chocolate was down for anything and everything. Chocolate will fuck for a buck and do something strange for some change. She was officially one of them, which meant Dixyn would need to figure out a way to make some extra money without compromising her morals to get it.
* * *
Dixyn watched from the car as Kendra walked into the office of the Red Roof Inn. After saying a few words to the motel manager, she handed over her identification and credit card. Roughly five minutes later, Kendra exited the office with a room key in hand. Dixyn noticed that she was texting someone while she walked toward the car.
“What are we doin’ here?” Dixyn asked. “I thought we were doin’ the bachelor party.”
“We are. We’re doin’ it right here,” Kendra said. “To be on the safe side, I thought it was best if we didn’t travel to these dudes’ hood. Then we might get all type of undesirables crashin’ the party. I don’t got time to be dealin’ with no broke niggas. They take a bitch through too many changes. They want a whole lot for a li’l bit.”
For a split second, Dixyn considered going right back home; things weren’t unfolding like she thought they would be. Yet she quickly dispelled the notion when she remembered she wasn’t the one driving. And suddenly she also saw the logic in Kendra’s plan. She felt safe, if only for the moment, so she didn’t question her friend any further.
Kendra and Dixyn grabbed their respective duffle bags from the trunk and entered the motel room. It was clean and spacious, though nothing to brag about. For what they had in mind, it would definitely do. Immediately, Kendra dialed up her clients and gave them the address to the motel. Then the two women settled into the room and began unpacking their outfits for the night. They took turns freshening up in the bathroom before the guests arrived.
Kendra whipped out a bottle of Cîroc Coconut vodka along with a small bottle of cranberry juice and a can of Red Bull. They each got a nice little buzz off the liquor before moving to harder drugs. Dixyn rolled up a blunt while Kendra indulged herself in powder cocaine. Between Dixyn’s tokes and Kendra’s snorting, the girls enjoyed light conversation.
“Dix, I’m tellin’ you, these niggas got money. Every time they come to the club they make it rain.”
“Ken, where’s Fonda and Chocolate at? We been here for a while and they still ain’t show up.”
Kendra shrugged. “Ya guess is as good as mine. Lemme call these bitches. They shoulda been here by now.” She grabbed her cell phone and with the touch of a button was connected to her road dog. “Bitch, where are you?”
“Hold ya muthafuckin’ horses. I’m pullin’ up right now,” Fonda answered.
Moments later there was a knock on the door to the adjoining room. Kendra strolled over and opened the door. Fonda and Chocolate entered.
Almost immediately the two women started getting high. Dixyn chuckled to herself; being sober clearly wasn’t one of their priorities at the moment.
“Sure took y’all bitches long enough to git here,” Kendra chirped.
“Talk to Ms. I’m-Comin’-Right-Down here,” Fonda said, nodding her head in Chocolate’s direction.
“Looks like we both had the same problem. Ol’ Dixyn here took her own sweet time too,” Kendra said.
“Kendra!” Dixyn was annoyed.
“Bitch, am I lyin’? Anyway, let’s start gettin’ ready. These niggas will be here soon.”
Quickly all four women donned the skimpy outfits they would be wearing to start off the evening, then reapplied makeup and touched up their hair again.
It was almost twelve o’clock when the guests began to arrive. Well-dressed men, wearing the latest in urban fashions, pulled up in high-end luxury cars with Washington, DC license plates. They all arrived within a few minutes of each other. These guys were definitely ballers.
Kendra sure knows how to pic
k ’em, Dixyn thought. She watched closely from the bathroom, making sure she didn’t know any of the dudes and, more importantly, none of them knew her.
“Okay, guys, it’s party time,” Kendra announced to the half dozen men in attendance. “Don’t be shy, get ya freak on. We here to turn ya fantasies into realities.”
From a portable radio in the corner, “Rack City” by rapper Tyga began to flow from the speakers, enhancing the mood: sins of the flesh and lots of it. The girls shook their asses, twerking all over the room. The atmosphere was tame at first, but after the weed and liquor came into play, it got pretty wild.
Fonda and Chocolate performed oral sex on one guy at the same time. This got almost every man’s attention. They showered them with money, and some whipped out their phones and snapped pictures. While all this was going on, Kendra disappeared into the adjoining room for what Dixyn assumed was a quick fuck or VIP act. Dixyn settled in for a lap dance with a client in the corner. She was gearing up to take drastic measures like her cohorts. She let him dry hump on her ass till he busted a nut in his pants.
* * *
Hours after getting everything they wanted, the men still lingered around, smoking, drinking, watching sex shows performed by Kendra, Fonda, or Chocolate. They were engaging in oral sex, even doing each other at the same damn time. These women performed every sexual act conceivable.
Of course, this was exactly what Kendra wanted. The longer the men stayed, the more money they spent.
But suddenly, without any warning, three masked men burst into the room from the darkness of the adjoining room carrying semiautomatic handguns with silencers attached. Panic swept the room.
Dixyn froze and put her hands high in the air but stayed right where she was, on some dude’s lap.
“Niggas, y’all hit the muthafuckin’ floor! Bitches, y’all get on the muthafuckin’ bed,” one of the gunmen barked, tightening his grip on his weapon.
The intruders hovered over the men like birds of prey, waiting for anyone to make a false move while scanning the room for valuables.
“Give it up!” another gunman yelled. “We want watches, chains, bracelets, earrings, money, every muthafuckin’ thing, fam.”
Dixyn’s ears perked up. There was only one dude she knew who threw that last word around. She made it a point to discretely keep an eye on him.
At gunpoint, the men were robbed of any valuables they had on them. Then they were ordered to strip off every item of clothing and lay on the floor to prevent them from giving chase once the bandits made their escape. Most of the men complied, but one of them refused.
“I ain’t takin’ my muthafuckin’ clothes off, Joe,” he said. “Fa what? Y’all already got e’rything we had on us, from our money to our cars keys. Naw . . .”
A lone gunman walked over to him and shoved his pistol into the back of the guy’s head. “You got five seconds to take off your clothes or I’m gonna blow ya muthafuckin’ head off!” he snarled. “One, two, three, four . . .”
Before the gunman could finish his count, the guy made his move. He tried to roll over onto his back and snatch the gun. Unfortunately, he wasn’t quick enough to disarm his captor. From point-blank range, the gunman fired two shots into his head, killing him instantly. Mayhem ensued as the other attackers started randomly firing on the other partygoers.
Dixyn’s pulse began to pound. She stared in horror at the scene before her, images of blood and brain matter burning into her subconscious. She clamped her hand over her own mouth, stifling the sounds involuntarily coming out.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch! Or you next,” a gunman warned, pointing his pistol in their direction.
Huddled closely together, each woman silently said a prayer that this wasn’t the night that they would meet their maker.
* * *
“Dixyn, Dixyn, are you okay?” Kendra asked while speeding down the highway. “Dixyn . . .”
She must have blacked out. She couldn’t recollect how she’d gotten dressed, and more importantly, how she’d escaped the motel with her life. When she came to, she was in the passenger seat of Kendra’s car, glancing nervously into the side mirror. Dixyn didn’t really know what to say. This situation was different from anything she’d ever dealt with before. This wasn’t just any old ordinary crime. This was murder, and somehow she was involved in it.
“I’m good,” she finally replied, still in a daze. “Kendra . . . Kendra, what the hell just happened back there?”
“Honestly, Dixyn, I don’t know,” Kendra said. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that . . .”
“What do you mean?” Dixyn shot back. “Wasn’t supposed to happen?”
Kendra clammed up. “Nuttin’,” she said.
“Kendra, one of them dudes’ voices sounded real familiar. One of them was B-Dub, right? I didn’t know you knew him.”
Suddenly Dixyn realized the connection between the two. She thought about all the recent run-ins she’d had with the two of them—influencing her to strip, B-Dub’s sudden appearance at the club, the transportation of his guns, and now the incident tonight. Everything didn’t seem so coincidental anymore.
Kendra ignored Dixyn, choosing to remain silent. For now she would let her assume whatever she wanted to assume.
Dixyn stared at her in disbelief. She could see the uneasiness in her friend’s face. “Kendra, you don’t gotta say another muthafuckin’ word. I ain’t as stupid as you think I am!” Dixyn spat. “I know . . . and it’s fucked up that you would even involve me in some shit like this. What about my daughter?”
Once again, Kendra didn’t respond.
As far as Dixyn was concerned, she had her entire life ahead of her, and that of her daughter. She couldn’t afford to have her future snatched away because she was an accessory to a murder. Making money was one thing, but committing serious crimes was something totally different. She was done—done with Kendra, done with B-Dub, done with the entire strip club scene. This wasn’t for her anymore. Dixyn was not about this life.
For several minutes, neither Kendra nor Dixyn uttered a word to each other. Kendra concentrated on driving. The farther away she got from the scene of the crime, the more relaxed she became. Meanwhile, the more Dixyn thought about the incident, the angrier she grew.
“I’m sicka this shit!” Dixyn eventually snapped. “I want out.”
“Why you wanna do that for? This is easy money. And you know you need the money.”
“Kendra, unlike you, I can’t put a dollar amount on my life,” Dixyn stated.
“I think you blowin’ things way outta proportion,” Kendra quickly responded.
“Outta proportion . . .” Dixyn repeated, her voice trailing off. “A nigga gets killed right in front of my face and I’m blowin’ things outta proportion? No, you, B-Dub, and whoever those other niggas wit’ guns were outta control!”
“Remember how fucked up you were before B-Dub came along?” Kendra said. “He just tryin’ to help you . . .”
Dixyn couldn’t believe her ears. Suddenly she knew she had confided in the wrong person. She could only shake her head. This disagreement was more than merely a difference of opinion. Dixyn now figured that because of Kendra’s ever-present drug use, her allegiance could easily be bought. And she remembered a time when Kendra had been closer than a regular friend, more like a sister, when she could tell her everything. It seemed that time had come and gone.
* * *
Kendra carefully parked her car between two others at the Waffle House somewhere in Virginia. The place was packed with late-night partygoers and people who had just left the local bar and wanted to grab a bite before calling it a night.
“What are we doin’ here?” Dixyn asked. “How could you think about eatin’ at a time like this?”
“Get out the car. We not here to eat. We here to meet B-Dub,” Kendra told her.
Dixyn didn’t move a muscle. She looked at Kendra like she had lost her mind. Meeting B-Dub was the last thing she wanted to do.
She wanted to stay as far away from that guy as possible. There was no way she was going to a meeting with that lowlife.
“Bitch, you better come on if you want your money,” Kendra warned.
Dixyn reconsidered her stance. She wanted and needed her money. Without it, the night was a total waste. Reluctantly, she climbed out of the car and joined Kendra as they walked the short distance to the entrance.
After a quick scan of the crowded restaurant, they spotted B-Dub sitting alone in a booth. He waved for them to come over and join him.
“Dixyn,” B-Dub cheerfully greeted, “what’s good? Long time no see.”
Dixyn stared at him coldly as she took a seat across from him. Kendra took the seat right next to him.
“Why so mean?” he asked. “Okay, maybe this will put a smile on ya face, fam.” B-Dub removed a wad of money from his hoodie pocket and handed it over to Dixyn.
She accepted the money and put it away, careful not to draw attention to herself. She knew it was more than what she’d been expecting. It was hush money.
“I don’t appreciate that shit y’all pulled back there,” Dixyn whispered, still looking him directly in the eye.
B-Dub remained unfazed. He was calm and collected. He merely smirked back at her.
“Y’all didn’t have to do that. One of us could have gotten seriously hurt.”
“My bad, fam,” he finally said. “Shit got outta hand. My guy went a li’l overboard.”
“You think?” Dixyn replied sarcastically. She couldn’t believe that someone had lost their life and all he had to say in his own defense was “my bad.” Bryce had certainly been right about him. B-Dub was a cold, calculating, useless piece of shit who Dixyn now deemed unfit to walk the face of this earth.
“Next time it won’t be like this. You’ll see,” B-Dub said.
Dixyn was astonished. First, she couldn’t believe that he’d so quickly owned up to his part in the robbery/homicide. Second, he was crazy if he thought she would ever willingly involve herself in something like this again. “Sorry to burst ya bubble, but there won’t be a next time for me,” Dixyn countered. “Whatever you, Kendra, and whoever else got goin’ on, I don’t want any part of it.”
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