Roxanne: From Addict to Hustler

by King Benjamin

  “Well, it hasn’t been months for me, thank God, so I’m gonna get his number and take my black ass home.”

  “I can have him follow you to make sure you make it home,” I suggested.

  “Girl, I’m good I only had one drink. Plus, I don’t want his thugged-out looking ass knowing where I live. But wait, are you trying to leave with both of them, ‘cause that’s not smart at all.”

  “Bam said they came in separate cars.”

  “Bam? I heard of him before. I can tell he’s a street dude. They both probably some street niggas, so just be careful.”

  We both checked our makeup in the mirror, before heading back out to the table where the fellas were still waiting. I tripped over my own feet a little as the drinks really began to kick in.

  “What’s up, baby, you ai’ight?

  “Yeah, I’m good. I think I killed that last drink a little too fast, though.”

  I glanced over at Kiesha, who had her phone out and she was exchanging numbers with pretty boy.

  “What’s his name?” I finally asked Bam.

  “Who, my manz? His name’s Calvin,” Bam replied.

  I wasn’t so sure they were both gangsta now. What kind of gangsta goes by the name Calvin, I thought. “You need to sit down for a minute? ‘Cause yo’ legs looked kinda wobbly and shit coming from the bathroom.”

  “No, I’m good, I’m good,” I assured him. “I just haven’t had anything to drink in a while.”

  “Okay. So, what’s up, you ready to dip up outta here?”

  I looked at Kiesha again and I could tell she was wrapping things up.

  “Yeah, I’m ready. Calvin, you gonna walk my girl to her car, right?” I asked.

  Calvin gave me a look as if to say, I got this. After that, we all headed for the exit. I saw a couple of familiar faces of hustlers I had turned tricked with or bought drugs from on my way out the door. Their crew went by the name of The Head Bussas. Bam spoke to them briefly and slapped fives with them before leaving.

  In the parking lot, we split into pairs and Bam whispered in my ear, “What that mouth like, baby?”

  “What?” I said, acting appalled, but really turned on.

  “You heard me, what that mouth like?” he repeated.

  “Hmph, I’ll let you be the judge of that,” I said, as he chirped the alarm on his black Denali. As soon as I was in the truck, I kicked off my heels, because they were killing my feet and I wanted to relax. When Bam got in, he turned the key in the ignition and the sounds came booming from the huge speakers in the rear. It was so loud, it scared the shit out me when it jumped on. He rudely left the music all the way up, so I couldn’t say anything to him until he pulled out of the parking spot. He pulled up on Kiesha, who had just backed out also, then he lowered the volume as his window rolled down.

  “You good, baby?” Bam asked.

  “Yeah, I’m good. Take care of my girl,” Kiesha said.

  “Aw shit, she in better hands than Allstate.”

  “I’m gonna call you in a little while, so answer the phone,” I yelled from the passenger side.

  “Bitch, I’m about to go to sleep,” Keisha said.

  “No, Kiesha. I’m gonna call in about an hour,” I said.

  I wanted to make sure I could get in the house if he decided to take me to a rinky-dink, short-stay motel or something.

  “Bye, have fun,” Kiesha said as she pulled off, and then Bam’s music went right back up. I wanted to protest, but then I thought, maybe we did enough talking in the club and now, he just wanted to be left alone while he drove and listened to his music. I glanced at him every so often as he bobbed his head and rapped to the lyrics like he wrote the song himself. I wonder did he know who I really was and was just playing it off. For some reason, I didn’t think it would matter to him. Bam seemed to not really give a fuck about much. He pulled into the DoubleTree Inn which was kind of a shocker. I was expecting something a little more low-budget and thuggish. He even walked like a gangsta in Gucci loafers. You could tell he was the kind of guy more comfortable in hoodies and Timbs.

  “You smoke weed?” Bam asked, as we entered the lobby.

  “All day, every day,” I replied.

  “Good. I’m tryna get high.”

  The elevator ride up was a quiet one, so I made my own conversation.

  “Where you know the Head Bussas from?” I inquired.

  “Whatchu mean, where I know ‘em from? That’s my crew, where you know ‘em from?”

  “Your crew? You mean—”

  “Yeah that’s right, I’m the boss man. The head nigga in charge. And I heard about how you used to fuck around too,” he added.

  I knew my secret wouldn’t stay a secret for too long. Toledo was too small and I had done too much. Bam probably knew who I was before he said a word to me.

  “Yeah, well, not anymore.”

  We stepped out of the elevator as a couple stepped in.

  “You ain’t my bitch, so I don’t give a fuck what you do after tonight,” Bam explained.

  Bam didn’t have much respect for me, but he had wait until now to reveal that fact. It was ruining my mood fast. I figured he slept with a different random chick every night and tonight I was it, but I wasn’t feeling his attitude.

  “Listen dude, you don’t gotta be so fucking mean about it. Clearly we are both here because we wanna be,” I said, then I stopped walking and waited for his response.

  “You right, my bad. And I hope you stay clean, on some real shit.”

  “Thank you. I plan to.”

  I started walking again, but we were already at the front door of our room.

  “But if you do happen to fall off, make sure you come break bread with the crew, you know where we at,” Bam said, teasing me.

  “Fuck you,” I said, right before I punched him in the arm as we entered the room. I found the remote and turned on the television. Bam sat down on the bed and tossed me a fat sack of exotic weed. It smelled like the same weed Kiesha smoked. After I rolled the blunt, I went to freshen up. I stared in the mirror, just in awe of my life for a minute. Here I was, in a hotel room with a gang leader and a boss, who still wanted to sleep with me even after he knew who I was. It felt good to know someone like him wanted me, even if only for one night. Thank God for my looks, I thought, staring into my captivating blue eyes.

  “Let’s go have some fun,” I whispered.

  When I emerged from the bathroom, I was amped and completely naked. Feeling the power of my sexuality, I approached Bam, feeling aggressive. He choked on the blunt and watched my every move as I dropped to the floor right between his legs. I unzipped his jeans.

  “Aw shit, here we go!” I heard him say.

  He took one more hit of the weed, sat the blunt in the ashtray and fell back on to the pillows as I reached for his thick, heavy rod. He was packing quite a sausage, but I knew I could handle it. I played with his dick head, circling it with my tongue. I teased and tickled it before taking in a small portion of his manhood. As soon as his dick felt the warmth of my mouth, it stood at full attention. I began to stroke it with my right hand and kissing it softly.

  I nibbled at it a little longer then allowed him to enter my mouth, this time a little farther than before. He reached for the back of my head feeling eager, but I pulled back, still wanting control of the moment. I eyeballed his stiff rod, applied a little spit, and then took it all in my mouth. I could fell his legs stiffen as I went to work. He wrapped my hair around his fist, making sure I didn’t pull back again. I’ve truly missed giving blow jobs, I thought, as I got into a deep rhythm. With his pole nearing my tonsils, I did the one trick I always did with my tongue to get guys to come faster. Not long after, Bam released my hair and pulled back, signaling for me to get up.

  As I stood up so did he and then he began to tear off his jeans. He pulled out a Magnum and slid it on, as I propped myself up in the bed on all fours. My excitement level continued to rise as I glanced back at his gang tattoos and musc
ular build. Bam wasted no time plowing into me from behind, with his hands around my waist, manhandling my small frame. He was surprised by the tightness of my pussy, as he eased in and out until he could fit his whole shaft inside me. I tried throwing my back into it, but his dick took control of me. He had complete control of my body and all I could do was bury my face in the pillow, muffling my screams. He pounded me into an orgasm in record time. I enjoyed every single stroke until he finally climaxed, and I crashed down on the bed as he continued to drill me down to the last drop of nut. I couldn’t speak for him, but he was one fuck I would never forget.

  Chapter 13

  As soon as we were done, Bam was in a rush to leave. I didn’t mind because we had both gotten what we’d came for. I felt so relaxed and worry-free as we cruised with 50 Cent’s “Wangsta” blasting through the speakers. I could feel the bass thumping at my chest and Bam only turned the music down once to clarify my direction. As we turned on my street, Bam immediately hit the brakes and we both sat in a stiff state of shock for a moment, staring at the number of police cars flooding Kiesha’s block. Whatever had happened it appeared that Kiesha was involved, because the police were at her house. Bam slammed in reverse as I zeroed in on the officers standing on Kiesha’s front porch.

  “Stop the car!” I yelled out. “Let me out, let me out!”

  Bam stopped for me, and I quickly unlocked the door and shoved it open. I jumped out and began running towards Kiesha’s house. My mind quickly overloaded with the worse possibilities. All of a sudden, I saw the front door open and Kiesha was being led out of the house by two officers and she was in handcuffs. I ran as hard and fast as I could, but as soon as I got close to the house, I was grabbed by officers on the scene. Kiesha saw me and started crying uncontrollably.

  “Roxanne, I’m scared!” she called out.

  “Kiesha, what happened?” I shouted back, as I began to struggle with officers trying to break free.

  “I killed somebody,” I heard Kiesha say, before she was ushered into the back of the squad car.

  “Oh, my God! What happened?” I asked the only female officer on the scene.

  “We don’t know yet. Is this your friend?” she asked.

  “Yes, she is. Oh, my God, please tell me what’s going on?” I reached out, squeezing her arm, hoping she’d have some compassion.

  “We really don’t have all the facts right now. There was a shooting near downtown and your friend is the one that called and reported the shooting and agreed to surrender at home.”

  I looked into the backseat of the patrol car and Kiesha was staring at me, still crying.

  “I’m coming to get you out,” I yelled, right before the car pulled away from the curb.

  “Do you live here?” the female officer asked.

  “Yes.”

  “The best thing you can do is wait for her to call. She’ll be allowed a phone call after she is processed.”

  Another officer came over and handed me Kiesha’s spare house keys, saying she had instructed him to pass them along. As soon as I took the keys, I broke down right there on the sidewalk in a wailing fit. I didn’t think Kiesha was coming back home and I was terrified.

  “How the fuck could this happen?” I cried out. The lady officer lifted me to my feet and encouraged me to go inside and wait by the phone. I eventually went inside, but I stood in the front door, wiping tears away and watching the police pile into their vehicles and leave. It was just another day on the job for them, but for me, it was one the worse nights of my life. How could a night that was going so good end so badly? Kiesha was all I really had and without her, I didn’t believe I could function drug free. I wondered was the dude, Calvin, involved because he was supposed to make sure she got home safe. I reached of my cell phone to call Bam, but then I remembered he didn’t give me a number. I tried calling my mom, but she didn’t answer. I just needed someone to talk to, but the only friend I had in the world had just been hauled off to jail for murder. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, so I began to pace the floor trying not to think about what I usually did when I felt like this. I could hear the voices in my head, telling me, just go get high and you can deal with this shit tomorrow or the next day. I began to pull my hair with both hands, hoping that would help shut my mind off.

  I wound up in the kitchen literally beating my head up against the refrigerator door, which didn’t help at all. My craving for drugs was strong and quickly increasing simply out of the need to not sit in the house and go crazy. I grabbed my cell phone and tried to call my mom again, praying she would answer. She didn’t. I looked on the coffee table and noticed the keys to the Escalade were still there. The Escalade was parked right outside in the driveway. It took me all of two seconds to make a decision.

  “Fuck it,” I said, as I grabbed the keys and dashed out the door.

  I didn’t even take the time to lock up the house properly. I was in a rush to get in the truck and start it up before I changed my mind. I looked at the time on the dashboard and it was 4:00 a.m. I knew the hustle didn’t stop, so I wouldn’t have a problem trying to score this late. I didn’t know exactly where I was going when I pulled out of the driveway, but I’d find drugs once I bent a few corners. From nowhere, Bam’s voice popped into my head. “If you fall off, make sure you break bread with the team.” I had twenty dollars left to my name and I knew The Head Bussas had a spot that ran twenty-four seven. I made a U-turn and headed towards the spot.

  ****

  When I arrived at the house I knew so well, all was quiet and there were no cars out front, but I knew they were there because they lived there. Where else would they be at four in the morning? I felt bad about being there as I got out, looking at the house that had declined even more since I’d seen it last. There was plywood nailed over the windows and the stairs looked dangerous. I grabbed the rail, carefully scaling up the side of the steps that had the least amount of damage. I got that nervous feeling in my stomach that reminded me I wasn’t supposed to be here. I ignored my stomach and knocked hard on the door hoping to see a familiar face. Someone opened the peephole.

  “What the hell?” I heard a voice say.

  “It’s Roxanne!” I announced.

  A few seconds later, the door sprang open and Big Phil was standing there, looking happy and surprised to see me at the same time.

  “Where you been, girl?”

  “Rehab,” I said, stepping in as my craving for drugs increased with every minute that passed.

  He burst out laughing at my tragic failure. “Yeah, when you’re finished can I get some dope?” I badgered him.

  “Hell yeah, you done woke me up out of my sleep, your ass better have some money for some dope,” he warned.

  “I was glad to see some of the same familiar faces. Phil and his brother, Mo Mo, were still running the spot. Mo Mo was asleep on the couch and he didn’t look like he was getting up any time soon. There was Uncle Buddy laid out on three steel back wooden chairs, forced together to make a bed. His feet were the worse I’ve ever seen on a human. They were hard, grey and crusty, and the foul stench lit up the whole room. In that moment, though, nothing bothered me because I was right where I wanted to be; right where all my problems disappeared momentarily… the crack house. I gave Phil my last twenty dollars and he slid me two dimes.

  “Whose truck you driving?” he wanted to know.

  “You remember my best friend, Kiesha?”

  “Oh yeah, I thought that was Kiesha’s truck. She gon’ whoop yo’ ass when she finds out you took her truck to the crack house.”

  “Whatever, can I get something to smoke with? I been clean for a minute, so I don’t have shit,” I explained.

  “You look like you been clean too. You been in rehab for real, huh?” Phil noticed as he took in my clean and sober glow that wasn’t about to last much longer.

  “Basically yeah,” I replied.

  “Well, here, you can use Unk’s joint,” he said, handing me a straight shooter to smoke
with. “He ain’t gon’ mind, but if you wake him up, you know you gon’ have to share.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  I took my rocks and my utensils and wandered off into the kitchen away from the hustlers. They hated the scent of crack smoke, so I always went far away before I lit up. I checked the pipe to see what condition it was in, then I placed my two rocks on the kitchen table. I took my thumbnail and split one in half, then loaded one half into the stem. I had completely forgotten about Kiesha by this point. It was just me and my master blaster. I flicked the lighter and a feeling of guilt and disappointment in myself lasted all of two seconds, then the rush hit me. It was the closest thing to the feeling I felt the very first time I got high. I was in la-la land and all was well again, but it only lasted a couple minutes. I knew once it left it wasn’t coming back, but I still sat there until the sun came up, chasing that feeling.

  Here I was, right back at it. I knew Phil was happy to see me, ‘cause he kept coming in the kitchen to check on me, asking if I was okay. Once hustlers saw me back out there, they’d all be trying to reel me in again and make me a loyal customer to them. I wasn’t smoking as fast as I used to, but I still ran through the two rocks I had in less than two hours. Now that I was open, I couldn’t stop, because then I would only start to feel bad about what I’d done. I had to keep going.

  “Can I get some credit, Phil?” I called out from the kitchen.

  Phil strolled in with a sack of rocks in his hand. He placed one rocks on the table in front of me.

  “This one on me,” he said.

  I looked at Phil with his big scruffy beard and his ball cap tilted to the left. Phil was one of those hustlers who always thought he was slicker than he really was. For instance, he didn’t think I was smart enough to know that the gift he’d just given me was a bait rock. It was meant to keep my craving going, while pretending to be looking out for me. It was his first step at trying to purchase my consumer loyalty, by keeping me dependent on him for drugs. It didn’t matter to me, though. I’d been here many times before. As long as I could get high, that was all that mattered.