“Oh, yeah, no doubt. I’ll make sure he knows that. I’ll make sure he knows it one hundred percent.”
She smiled and walked out of the room. Something was up with her. I noticed it, but I didn’t feel a need to call her out on it. Not yet. If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t even be in the position to make this kind of money so quick, so I didn’t want to jump the gun. But if I learned anything about being on the streets of Milwaukee, it’s always to watch your back. Even when those you trust are behind you. There was an awkward silence between us as we rode to the club. She avoided eye contact with me, glancing out her side window periodically, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t want her conversation to blow my high before I got on stage. She brought me in a little early, so I could talk with Don. I wasn’t thrilled about it, but I figured it couldn’t hurt. As long as the nigga didn’t try anything with me like he normally did, I would be aight.
I walked into his office as he closed the door behind me. I could feel his eyes scanning my body as he walked past me and motioned with his hand,
“Have a seat, baby.”
I sucked my teeth and walked over to the seat by his desk. I had flashbacks of the first time I came in here with Quandra. The nervousness I felt back then was gone.
“So, Quandra tells me you want to be a club dime?”
He reclined in his seat, a crooked smile on his face.
“What? Nah. I don’t care about that shit enough to want to be one.”
“Well, let me rephrase that. She told me that you wouldn’t mind being a club dime.”
“Look, like I said, I don’t give a fuck about that shit.”
“You should,” he said, leaning forward in his chair, “bitches in here kill for that title. I mean, it comes with protection and everything.”
“Protection? The fuck I need protection for?”
He stood up and began pacing the office,
“You don’t think these bitches in here haven’t noticed the fact that you’re coming in here and making a name for yourself in such a short time? Stealing their men and their money and taking all the attention away from them. The attention that they had in abundance before you came along.”
“Ok, and what the fuck do I need protection for? These bitches in here? Please.”
He stopped to look at me, then continued pacing the room. “It’s not just for your protection from harm. It’s for protection in case… some of your money gets stolen. You know? Things like that do happen around here.”
I shook my head and rolled my eyes as he continued to pace.
“I, as the owner of this establishment, will ensure that whatever is stolen is returned to you.”
“And this is only available to me as…”
“That’s right. The club dime.”
I looked to the right as he walked up behind me, running his hand across my arm. The anger began building inside of me as his dark, manicured fingers danced down the edges of my arm. I had the urge to smack it away, but I restrained myself and stood up.
“You know what, I’m good.”
“Excuse me?” He looked surprised.
“I said I’m good. I don’t need your fuckin’ protection from these bitches or anything else you tryin’ to offer me. I’m just here to make money and leave. I don't need any extra shit.”
I turned to walk out the office as he said, “You’ll change your mind soon, Ms. Lyric. I’m sure of it.”
I closed the door behind me, then walked down the long hallway to the backroom. Quandra was in the mirror getting herself ready as I walked in. She smiled.
“That was quick,” she said.
“What was?” I threw my things into my locker.
“The initiation process. You’re a club dime now, ain’t you?”
“Hell no. Fuck that shit.”
The smile on her face dropped. She peered at me as I pulled clothing out of my bag.
“So, you just turned him down?”
I spun around towards her. “Yeah. Why you so worried about it?”
“Oh… just because that title is the shit these bitches live for in here. Everybody wants to be a fuckin’ club dime.”
“Not me. I’m good with the shit I got now.”
She paused, then said, “Aight. Well, shit, I’ma go out here and see what it’s lookin’ like. You know today is supposed to be live. Muthafuckin’ players from the Bulls is expected to be here tonight and shit, so you know it’s gon’ be bread out there. I’ma be back.”
Her high heels clicked against the cement floor as she walked away. I stripped down and began putting on the clothes I was going to dance in. As much as I hated to admit it, I was starting to miss rap. It was easier to be myself behind a microphone than it was butt ass naked on stage. I heard a few more sets of high heels clicking against the ground, getting closer and closer to me by the second. They were coming down the hallway, talking loud and laughing as soon as they entered into the backroom.
“Hey Lyric,” one of the girls said to me as she walked past. Out of the four that came in, she was the only one to speak. The others huffed and kept walking, but I didn’t care. The things Don told me sat in the back of my head, but I dared any one of those bitches to try me. I had over a week of pent-up aggression that I was ready to let loose.
“It’s gonna’ be some ballers out there tonight, girl. I know you ready, though,” she said. Then she sat down next to me, pulling a small mirror out her purse to check her makeup.
“Yeah, that’s what I heard.”
“If you make anything under a stack tonight, something is wrong. The way you been stackin’ since you been here makes me think you been doin’ this for longer than you tell everybody.”
“Nah. I mean, if you got ass and titties and knew how to move them a little bit then you got a good shot at doin’ this.”
“I knew it,” she said, slapping herself on the leg. I looked at her with a side-eye,
“Knew what?”
“I knew you sound familiar. I just couldn’t put it together ‘til now. ‘Suzie rock the Mic like granite, muthafuckas’ can’t stand it.' Hell yeah, you’re Suzie Rock!”
That’s the last thing I wanted. I figured coming to Chicago; people wouldn’t readily recognize me even knowing that Chicago was so close to Milwaukee. If anybody did notice me, I was hoping it wouldn’t be from me being in this strip club. I kept silent for a second, then,
“Nah, you must have the wrong person.”
“Naw, fuck that. I know fuckin’ Suzie Rock when I hear her. The fuck you doin’ here?”
I slammed my locker closed and stood up, looking at myself in the mirror. The scars from my surgery were faint, blending in with my complexion but if you focused, you could see them easily.
“I told you, you got the wrong person.”
She stood up next to me,
“Why are you bullshittin’? Suzie Muthafuckin’ Rock. You know, I heard you for the first time when my little brother was playin’ some mixtape in my car. He was like, yo, listen to this chick, so I listened, and you were flowin’. I was like, ‘the fuck is this bitch?’ you know? In a good way though cuz you were rippin’ that shit.”
I didn’t say a word. All I could see was Junie on stage in my mind, hyping me up to keep flowing. “Spit that shit, Suzie,” he would say just loud enough for me to hear him over the crowd. I had stopped the daydream before I had a chance to tear up.
“You still rapping?”
I looked at her and didn’t say a word. The next thing she heard was my footsteps walking away from her down the hall. She wouldn’t understand even if I told her. The club was packed when I walked outside. The club DJ spoke into the microphone when I stepped onto the floor.
“Oh wait, wait just a god-damned minute! There she is… one of the BADDEST bitches in Chicago. She wants everybody to call her Lyric, but I can’t do it myself ‘cause she remind me of Diamond. Y'all, remember her from Player’s Club? Hell yeah, so y’all can call her Lyric, but her ass is priceless like
a Diamond. Y’all ballin’ ass muthafuckas, make sure y’all get a dance or two from her beautiful ass. I can’t afford her but shit, I know y’all niggas can!”
I walked through the club as a few men reached out for me. My first reaction was to jerk away from them, but I was learning. Let them, I said to myself as one of them pulled me in closer. I brushed my hand across his face,
“You want a dance?”
He smiled, moving his hand to touch my ass, but I smacked it away, “Nah baby, you gotta pay for that.”
He pulled out a stack of money and flashed it in front of me.
“Is this enough? He asked, a twisted smile on his face.
I licked my lips seductively and pulled him up by the hand. He towered above me when he stood, and I led him to the back area where the lap dances were performed. As we walked past the security guard that stood by the entry, the man slipped something into the guard’s pocket. The guard looked at it, gave a nod and then I continued to the back area with the customer. He sat down on the couch as I backed away from him. He pulled more money out of his pocket and made it rain in hundred dollar bills before I even began. At that point, I knew he would be my only customer for the night. I turned around and shook my ass slowly from left to right as I felt his hand creep up on me. I didn’t mind him touching me, I mean, with that much money on the ground, I could afford him that. I backed into him, grinding on top of him as he leaned back,
“Damn, you workin’ that shit.”
He smacked my ass. I kept going, knowing he loved every bit of it as I spun around and put my titties on his face. I felt his dick rising while I was on top of him. I knew I was doing my job. I spun around while I was on top of him and split my legs open, leaning forward to the ground on my hands and popping my ass in his face. His hands gripped my backside and smacked me again; I felt the weight of my ass jiggle after his hand left my cheeks. I slid down to the ground and bounced my ass up and down while I was doing the splits, then made my way back up to him and went into a slow grind. Before I knew it, I felt his dick again but this time, it was outside of his pants.
I looked down, “Wait, hold on, what are you doing?”
He smiled, “I’m doing what I came here to do.”
He held me with one arm and slid my panties to the side with his hand, trying to force himself inside of me. I put my hand up, shoving his face back as he grabbed me and threw me down on the couch and got on top of me.
“Stop! Stop!”
I yelled at the top of my lungs, but the music from the club drowned me out. The guard was nearby, but he didn’t budge. He didn’t even turn to look into the room as the man overpowered me. I struggled to break free, but it was no use. He pinned me down and slid his dick inside of me against my will.
“Stop! Please!”
Tears started falling out my eyes as he ignored me, thrusting in and out as I did all I could to shove him off of me. After a few moments, I stopped trying. It was pointless as he continued, pushing his dick deep inside of me as I laid there helpless until he was finished. A few minutes felt like hours as he finally got off of me and stood up, pulling his pants back on his waist. He took a few more hundreds out of his pocket and threw them in my face,
“There you go, bitch. That’s about what that was worth.”
He laughed as he walked out of the room. The guard left and followed him down the hallway, not once looking in my direction. I held my cries in as I got up and left the room, unconsciously leaving the majority of money that wasn’t stuffed in my bra strap or thong on the floor. I did my best to keep my composure as I walked on the floor, making my way to the back room. I didn’t see the man that just raped me, but I wasn’t looking. I was walking, like a zombie, unaware of anything going on around me as I was focused on reaching my destination.
When I got to the back room, I sat on the bench and cried harder. I was broken, and it was something that I never thought I would ever experience. Not a thug ass female rapper from Milwaukee. I never allowed myself to be in a position to be treated like this until now. It wasn’t until now that I knew I was out of place and didn’t belong here. Moments later, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I jumped up and backed into a table, knocking make-up trays onto the floor. Don looked as if I startled him.
“Lyric. What’s wrong, baby?”
I wiped tears from my eyes doing my best to conceal my pain.
“Lyric? Talk to me. Talk to Daddy. What happened?” He seemed concerned but to me, it was a charade. I didn’t say anything to him as I kept my position, pinned against the table. He stepped closer, “Come on now, tell me what happened? I’ll take care of it.”
I remained silent, slapping his hand away from me when he reached to touch me.
“You know,” he said, the concern in his voice gone, “if you went ahead and became a club dime like I told you to, maybe you wouldn’t be in this position. Do you want to reconsider?”
A devilish grin flashed across his face as he stood there with his hands in his pockets. The stream of tears that I could no longer hold back fell slowly from my eyes, one after the other. My hand gripped the table I was leaning against. The pain in my heart was quickly transforming into anger as I pieced together what just happened to me, realizing that the man in front of me may have had a hand in setting it all up. He continued,
“See, it’s all about protection. The club’s top girls get the clubs top security. And you thought I was just talking about protection from these bitches? Oh, no, no, no, my dear. You see, all types of niggas come into this muthafuckin’ club with evil intentions. Niggas that are so fuckin’ narcissistic that they believe every bitch in the club wants them and when they reject them, they take offense to it. They then take the situation into their own hands as… I’m sure you just found out.”
“Wait, you knew about this shit?” I asked, rage beginning to bubble inside of me.
“Knew about it? I knew it would happen eventually… if you’re asking if I had a hand in it? Who’s to say? I mean, I’m not the only one in this club that was after you.”
He turned around and began pacing through the backroom. As soon as his attention was off of me, I grabbed an iron that was on an ironing board just to the left of me and smacked him across the head with it.
“Bitch, what the fuck?!”
He yelled as he fell to the ground, holding his head. I took the iron and smashed him across the face with it, splitting open his forehead as blood flew back into my face. He held his hands up, protecting himself against the blows as I hit him repeatedly. He screamed for help at the top of his lungs as some of the women and a security guard rushed to the back. I swung the iron at the guard as he ducked and grabbed me, tackling me to the ground not too far from where Don laid on the ground.
“That muthafucka’ had me raped! Get the fuck off me!”
I screamed at the top of my lungs as Don Wallace withered on the ground in a growing pool of his own blood. The girls that ran in covered their mouths holding in vomit, as they looked at the blood spilling from Don’s forehead. The guard yelled for someone to call the police as tears fell down my face while I screamed,
“He got me raped! Fuck him! I hope he dies! I hope he dies right there on that fucking ground!”
I spit in Don’s direction as he covered his forehead, rolling around in his own blood. I wanted him to die and feel as much pain as he could before he did. I wanted him to feel helpless. I wanted him to feel the life draining slowly from his body as he laid there, not able to do anything about it but accept it. I wanted him to feel what it was like to be raped.
Chapter 7
They put me in a small room at the police station. I sat there stone-faced, still in shock over everything that just happened to me. They didn’t know that I had been raped. They didn’t even ask me. They just came to the club, looked at what I did to Don and put me in cuffs. Next thing I knew I was here in this room, alone. All I could see was the face of my attacker flashing in and out of my mind like a nightmare. A detect
ive finally came in the room. He was tall, slim with a thin goatee that connected to his beard. His bushy eyebrows made it look as if he pushed them in the opposite direction of where they were supposed to go. He had a bad case of acne on both of his cheeks. It could have been from shaving, but I didn’t look at him long enough to tell. He sat down just across from me.
“So, Miss… Lyric Sutton? I am Detective Spencer. How are you doing?”
I didn’t respond.
“You don’t want to talk?”
I looked away from him, staring at the wall just to his left. He sighed, sitting the pen and paper down on the table in front of him. He crossed his arms over his chest and folded his leg one over the other.
“Miss Sutton, please don’t make this difficult. I just want to get your side of the story. I mean, because the other side? They’re talking, and they are not modest about it.”
I turned to look at him giving off a cold, hard stare. His acne was not from shaving. I turned back towards the wall.
“Miss Sutton, this is what it is. You have beaten Don Wallace to the point that his forehead was split open. Right now, you’re going to be charged with assault and possibly attempted murder. Now, you can either tell me your side of the story or you can leave it as is and get whatever is coming to you.”
I remained silent as tears bubbled in my eyes. I couldn’t decide which emotion to act on as I sat in my seat, replaying my rape over and over. He huffed and stood up, preparing to go out of the room. Right when he reached the door, I let it out,
“He had me raped! I was taken to a back room and raped!”
He stopped and turned back towards me. “What do you mean you were raped? You were raped by Don?” He sat back down in his seat with kind eyes as he pulled his chair closer to me. “Miss Sutton, please. Who raped you?”
I wiped the tears from my eyes. “I… I was dancing for one of the men in the club. He… asked for a lap dance, you know? So I took him to the back where we normally do the dances. I saw him hand some money to the security guard. I didn’t think twice about it because I’m new. I’ve only been working there for about a week. Well, I start dancing for him and next thing I know, he pulled his dick out and forced himself inside of me. I told him to stop, I yelled for help, but nobody came. Not the security guard. Nobody.”
Queen of the City Page 5