Around the Way Girls 8

by Tina Brooks McKinney

  His cologne hypnotized me and I greedily inhaled his scent. “You smell good, baby.” I wanted to lick his neck; he smelled delicious.

  He dropped me on the sofa and walked away. “You messing with my money, Ebony. You’d better not be fucking with my product,” he replied curtly. A large vein pulsed in his neck.

  I could tell I’d pushed Trent’s buttons. I tried to pull myself together. “I’m sorry. I may be a little drunk but I ain’t touched your stuff,” I burped. I wasn’t used to Trent’s rough treatment. I stood up abruptly but the room started to spin, so I sat back down.

  “Shit.” Trent walked over to the bar and poured himself a drink. He was an extremely handsome man and if he weren’t my employer, I would have done some freaky shit with him just to change his funky attitude.

  “Can I have a drink?” I asked, batting my eyes and poking out my chest.

  He didn’t appear to be amused. “You’ve had enough. Now tell me what you wanted to speak to me about so I can get back to my game.” Irritated, he slammed his empty glass on the bar.

  Suddenly sober, I got right to the point. “I don’t like the new girl you hired.”

  He shot me a strange look. “And? The rest of the girls don’t like you. What the fuck do you expect me to do? Fire everybody?”

  “I don’t give a flying fuck about the other girls, but I don’t think this last girl can be trusted.” Trent was a shrewd businessman and if I wanted him to change his mind about giving Valencia a job, I would have to convince him that she was also a threat to him.

  He studied me as if he were sizing me up. “Trusted? Cut the shit, Ebony, you don’t even know the girl.”

  “I know the bitch and I’m telling you she can’t be trusted.” I really didn’t want to get into how I knew Valencia so I prayed he wouldn’t ask me any more questions.

  “What’s up with that? I think you are afraid to have a little competition.”

  I felt insulted. If things were different, I might have taken a swing at him. I had to convince him that keeping me and Valencia wasn’t going to work.

  “That bitch can’t lick the bottom of my shoes. I’m your money-maker and you know it.”

  “I hear you, but I still think you feel threatened by her,” Trent taunted me.

  “Fuck you and her. Coming to see you was a bad idea. Perhaps, I should start looking for another club, one that will appreciate me.” I was no longer dizzy when I got up from the chair. I needed some fresh air because I felt like I was going to suffocate in the small cellar. I looked around for my purse but it wasn’t there. Shit. I sat back down, trying in my head to retrace my steps. I stood to leave. I must have left my purse in the car again.

  “Calm your pretty ass down. I’m just fucking with you.” Trent had a wide smile on his face.

  Elated, I tried to contain my happiness. This pretty motherfucker was going to make me fuck him right there on the sofa. I was suddenly horny as hell.

  “So, you’ll fire her?” I started fiddling with the back of my dress, trying to take it off.

  “I can’t. I didn’t hire her.” Trent went back to the bar and poured himself another drink, but this time he poured one for me.

  I tossed it back like an old pro, the brown liquor burning its way to my stomach. “Then who did?” I was pissed. I’d been at the club for several months and I never saw anyone else in the club usurp Trent’s authority. I felt like I’d been blindsided with this new information.

  “The owner. She caught his eye, so he hired her.”

  My blood boiled. I’d been barking up the wrong tree the entire time I worked at the club. I wanted to go to Valencia’s house and rip every strand of hair out of her head. I was livid. Out of all the titty clubs in Atlanta, she brought her slutty ass to the one I worked in. Unfucking believable.

  “Fuck.” I was ready to go. The owner obviously operated under the radar so I was going to have to find out who he was and convince him to change his mind about Valencia. The club wasn’t big enough for both of us.

  “You still want me to drop off that package?” I asked over my shoulder, as I walked toward the stairs. Trent paid extra when I delivered packages for him. I was pretty sure he was pushing dope but I didn’t care, as long as I got paid.

  “Bitch, please. Do you really think I’m gonna give your drunk ass a package? You must’ve bumped your head. Get out of here and sleep it off. In fact, carry your ass out the back.” His eyes narrowed and his posture was defiant. Trent had never shown me this side of him before.

  I liked dominant men, but there was a time and place for everything and this wasn’t it. If I didn’t need the extra money I would have told him to kiss my ass. The fucker didn’t even walk me to my car. Five seconds ago, I wanted the nigga licking my pussy but now he wouldn’t get the chance to smell my funky drawers. I thanked God I found out he wasn’t the man I thought he was. If I had allowed him to hit it I would’ve had to cut him.

  My keys were in the ignition, just as I left them. I was fucking tripping. I should’ve kept my black ass at the house instead of going to the club and making an ass of myself. It was almost four in the morning and I still had to go to the bathroom.

  “Damn, I lost the entire night and I can’t remember shit.” I fumbled with the keys in the ignition. Trent pissed me off, especially when he said Valencia was bringing competition to the game. He didn’t get it at all; Valencia didn’t threaten me, I just didn’t like the bitch. She had a bond with my cousin that I felt was unnatural and I was determined to break that shit up. I just needed to figure out how to do it. Blue flashing lights painted my car. “What the fuck?” Panicking, I mashed the gas instead of the brakes and smashed into a parked car. “Oh shit . . .” My head thumped against the plastic steering wheel and everything went dark.

  “Miss? Miss? Are you okay?” A man was outside my car, trying to get in and knocking on the window.

  I shook my head, trying to clear it. My head hurt.

  “Miss. Unlock the door.”

  I didn’t know what to do, so I did nothing. My first instinct was to try to run but I would have to back up to do so and my car was blocked by the officer’s vehicle. Thoughts of having my face blasted all over through the media brought reality back in focus. I had to open the door. I couldn’t continue to sit in the car. The officer shined his light into the car as I reached for my purse.

  He butted the window with his flashlight. “Freeze! Put your hands in the air where I can see them,” he demanded.

  Damn, what the fuck was I thinking?

  “I was getting my purse,” I yelled.

  “You should’ve been opening the door like I told you to.”

  Smart-ass. What did he want me to do now? I kept my hands held high. I was black, in the Deep South, and wrong as hell for drinking and driving. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

  “Use your left hand and unlock the damn door.”

  You have to cuss at me, dude? Really, does that make you feel better? I hit the switch to open the door and immediately put my hand back up. I could feel the officer’s testosterone in the cocky way he was swangin’ his tool. He wasn’t going to make an example out of me. I was going to follow his instructions to the letter. I wasn’t taking any chances.

  He pulled open the door and shined the light in the front and backseat.

  “Step out of the car; keep your hands where I can see them.”

  I stepped out, unsure what was going to happen next. In the movies, cops threw folks on the ground and frisked them. I prayed he wouldn’t do it to me as he called for backup.

  “Sit on the curb.”

  I wanted to object but thought better of it. The curb was cold and uncomfortable but it was better than being facedown in the street while my car was being searched.

  “Have you been drinking?”

  Shit. “Officer, I had one drink but I’m not drunk. Really, I’m not.” Technically I wasn’t lying, I only stretched the truth. The drinks I had before my nap couldn’t possibly count, especi
ally since I had a nap. However, I couldn’t remember how long I’d been sleeping.

  “I need your license and registration.”

  Was this motherfucker crazy? Where the fuck did he think I was hiding the shit. I was sitting on a fucking curb with my hands raised to God and he wanted my damn license. “It’s in the car. My license is in my purse but my registration is in the glove compartment.” Duh, what an idiot.

  “Do you have any weapons or drugs in the car?”

  He sure was asking me a lot of questions. I wanted him to write me a damn ticket and send me on my happy way. I hesitated, thinking about the knife in my purse. I had no clue what the laws were in Georgia for carrying a razor.

  “No.”

  “You sure about that? It sure took you a little while to answer.” He rested his hand against his holster. If he did it to frighten me, it worked.

  I stood up and walked to the car. “I’m sure.”

  He kept his weapon on me as I handed him my license and registration. This motherfucker had scared me shitless. I started to cry, I couldn’t help it. It finally hit me how much trouble I was in; I was about to be carted off to jail. I dropped my purse and the knife rolled under the tire.

  “Put your hands on the trunk and spread your legs.” He searched me.

  I felt like a common criminal. I’d never been so humiliated in my life.

  He slapped cuffs on my hands and placed me in the backseat of my vehicle. He tossed my purse in my lap, minus the knife. “It’s not nice to lie to the police.”

  “I’m sorry, Officer, I forgot it was in there. I’m coming from work and I always take it.”

  “You’re not helping. If you always take something, then how could you forget you had it?”

  Fuck! His left eyebrow rose as he shook his head. I wanted to tell him to kiss my natural black ass.

  “This is a New York license,” he said.

  “What, it ain’t good here?” He had to be the most stupid police officer I’d ever seen in my life.

  “How long have you lived here?”

  “A year or so.” To me, a year sounded a whole lot better than six or seven months. I didn’t realize I’d stuck another fork in my ass.

  “Georgia law requires you to apply for a license within six months of relocating. I’ll be right back, so please don’t do anything else stupid.”

  My heart sank. I grabbed my cell phone as best I could with shackled hands to call Reshunda. She was gonna have to get me a bondsman just in case I needed one. I scrolled through the phone but I didn’t recognize any of the names or numbers until I came upon Valencia’s name.

  “Arrgh! This ain’t my phone.” I wanted to pitch the bitch out the window but the way my luck was going I would get a ticket for littering. Reshunda must have picked up my phone by mistake. I continued scrolling through the names, hoping to find someone else who I could call, but she was the only name I recognized. Damn. “Fuck!” She was the last bitch on the planet that I wanted to speak to but I didn’t have a choice. I pressed the speed dial button and put the phone on speaker and prayed she would answer. I didn’t want the officer to know I was on the phone and thankfully Valencia answered on the second ring.

  “Bitch, do you know what time it is?” Valencia screamed through the speakers.

  “It’s Ebony, Valencia. I need a favor.” Just hearing her voice made me want to gag. She didn’t say anything and I thought she’d hung up.

  “What the fuck do you want and how the hell did you get my number?”

  Attitude, attitude. If I didn’t need her ass, I would have checked her.

  “Shit, did something happen to Reshunda?” Her whole demeanor changed.

  “No, Reshunda’s fine, I guess. She must have my phone. Listen, I don’t have a lot of time. I’m being arrested and I need—”

  “Wait. What did you say? How the fuck—? Where the hell are you?” She was rapid-firing questions without giving me a chance to answer.

  I needed her to shut the fuck up so I could tell her what I needed. “I’m around the corner from the house and I got pulled over. Call her—” The bitch interrupted me again.

  “We left your ass in the damn car. Where the fuck did you go?”

  I could only play nice for so long. “Are you going to call my cousin or not?” Either she was going to help me or she wasn’t. I was sure it was Valencia’s idea to leave my ass in the car but I’d deal with that later.

  “Bitch, you got it twisted. You called my ass for help, not the other way around.”

  If I could have gone through the phone at that moment, I would have. I looked over my shoulder to see if the cop was coming. As much as I hated to do it, I had to apologize.

  “I’m sorry. I’m sneaking this call so I’m trying to get off before the officer comes back and catches me,” I whispered.

  “What did you do?” She whispered too.

  “Ran a red light, hit a parked car.” I wasn’t even gonna tell her about the knife.

  “And DUI too? For real, for real, you’re going to need a lawyer.”

  “Shit, here he comes. Are you gonna tell her?”

  “Yeah, I’ll tell her and you know she’s going to have a duck-plucking fit.”

  “Ah shit. A tow truck just pulled up.”

  “Where are you? I’ll come get the car.”

  I snapped the phone shut when the officer started reading me my rights.

  “Ebony Queen, you have the right to remain silent—”

  Chapter Seventeen

  VALENCIA ROBERTS

  “Where are you? Are you there? Hello,” I yelled into the phone, but Ebony was no longer there. Even though I couldn’t stand her, I heard the fear in her voice and it scared me. My mother was caught up in the system and I hated that she too was heading down that path. I didn’t wish that shit on anyone, even a bitch like Ebony. I got up and put some clothes on. The more I thought about it, the more certain I was that she needed a lawyer. Reshunda would be ready to run out of the house like Captain-Save-A-Ho and we’d wind up spending the remainder of the weekend sitting around the jail. I waited until the sun came up and placed the call to my lawyer before I let Reshunda know what was going on.

  “This is Ricardo Mosby.” He sounded like he’d been up for hours even though it was only eight in the morning.

  “Ricardo, I’m sorry to bother you so early in the morning but I need your help.”

  “You didn’t disturb me, so don’t worry about it. May I ask who’s calling?”

  I had to chuckle at myself. “I’m sorry, I haven’t had my coffee yet so I’m a little ditzy. It’s Valencia Roberts.”

  “Hey, Valencia, I haven’t been to see your mother yet because I needed to have my ducks in a row before I saw her. I plan to go this morning and see if I can get her before a judge. She’s been in there too long without being charged.”

  “Thanks, that’s great news, but I wasn’t calling about her. I have a friend who probably got locked up last night and may be in need of a lawyer.” I was truly stretching it when I referred to Ebony as a friend.

  “Probably? Either they did or they didn’t.”

  “You’re right. Let me start again. A friend called and said she had just gotten pulled over by the police. She ran a red light and hit a parked car.”

  “Yep, you’re right. She probably did get arrested. Do you know whether or not your friend had been drinking?”

  “Put it this way, the last time I saw her, around two this morning, she was passed out, but hopefully she had sobered up by the time she was pulled over.”

  “Unfortunately for her, I doubt it. If she was drunk at two, by law she’s drunk. Where did she get pulled over?”

  “She was in DeKalb County.”

  “And this just happened?”

  “Yes, she asked me to call a bondsman but I called to see if you could help her out. I’m sure she can pay you.”

  “That’s always a good thing, but if she went to DeKalb County, she won’t even be processed
until around four o’clock this afternoon and then she’ll have to see the judge. I hate to tell you this, but that probably won’t happen until midnight at best. You probably won’t hear from your friend till Sunday or Monday at the earliest.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, since it’s the weekend, my best guess is Monday.”

  “Damn, my girlfriend is going to show her ass.”

  “She’d better not or she is going to be there a whole lot longer than that. What’s her name?”

  “Ebony Queen. She’s not really a friend. She’s my best friend’s cousin. I don’t really care for her, but since she called me I’m trying to help.”

  “Best friend? Is this the same friend you told me about whose mother was killed?”

  “Yeah, and the girl that I want you to go see lost her mother too. She’s the one who moved here from New York.”

  “And the plot thickens. Well, I’ll check in on her when I go see your mother at noon. Chances are they won’t let me see her until she’s booked, but I’ll try.”

  “Thanks, Ricardo, I really do appreciate it.” A lump formed in my throat but I refused to cry. I was still upset with my mother, but not enough to see her rot in jail for a crime she didn’t commit.

  “No problem. Tell your friend she should try to come up with some bail money. If this is her first offense it will probably be between thirteen to fifteen hundred dollars. That’s just for bail. I’ll discuss my fee with Ebony if she decides to hire me.”

  “Thanks again. I’ll wait for your call.”

  “No problem.”

  I was putting on my shoes as I finished up the conversation with Ricardo. I grabbed my keys so I could take Reshunda’s car back and tell her what was going on with her cousin. I debated about whether or not I should call first, but the news I had to deliver was better served in person. If I told it to her over the phone, I wouldn’t be able to stop her from rushing down to the jail to wait. This way, I could try to talk some sense into her before she went down there and acted a fool.