Hardhearted

by Sherrod Tunstall

  King felt a firm hand on her thigh. She looked over at Blood, whose eyes were directly on Josie, but a smirk was on his face. King hadn’t forgotten about her promise to him, and her thoughts made her giggle. She turned her attention to Josie, who was killing a classic routine.

  As Josie was about to take another leap, everyone heard a voice sounding both male and feminine coming their way, shouting, “Stop! Stop it now!”

  The musicians stopped playing, and Josie stopped dancing. That was one of the seven deadly sins for a dancer. No matter what was going on—a loud noise or if you forget your step—you never stop dancing. Everyone looked at where the sound was coming from.

  “Come on, Jo-Jo, baby. Come on, you putting everyone to sleep,” the feminine voice said as he came into the great room and headed Josie’s way.

  The guy that walked in looked about the same age as Josie. He was light-skinned with big brown eyes, a nose ring, and a light mustache and beard. He also had a swimmer’s build that showed nicely in a tropical shirt, tan khaki shorts, and flip-flops. His hair was cut in a low fade. He walked up to Josie and kissed her cheek.

  King jumped up and lashed out at the boy. “Eh, what are you doing?”

  He knew his actions would piss off King, and he loved every last minute of it. He laughed.

  “Girl, Jo-Jo is boring the hell out of me and everyone else with this prissy white-man shit. Don’t y’all want a little more life in here?” He looked at the musicians and spoke in French. Within seconds, the musicians started to play some Reggae music.

  The boy screamed and started to dance. Many of the people watching had to admit he had some great dance moves. He grinded against Josie, and to everyone’s surprise, she started dancing wildly too. Everyone approved of the dancing . . . except for King.

  “Come on, everyone!” the boy yelled with excitement. “Get up and join the party!”

  Josie started to twerk and kicked off her ballet slippers. She was getting it in, and as she began to pop her booty, Swag rushed up behind her. At first, she was hesitant because she knew King didn’t approve. But it wasn’t long before she turned to face Swag and started grinding on him.

  Flames of fire shot from King’s ears. If she would’ve had a lighter right now, she’d burn the Palace down with everyone in it. How dare they disrespect me, she thought. But as everyone danced and seemed to have a good time, King kept her cool.

  “Get up and join the party!” the boy yelled again. He pulled Madam Lourd up from the sofa. “Come on, Granny. I know you still have some moves left in that old body of yours.”

  Madam Lourd got up from the sofa and looked him up and down. She hated the word “old.” It didn’t exist in her vocabulary. She asked Tyler to hold her cane and stepped on the floor to give the people a show.

  Most people thought Madam Lourd was such a classy, elegant lady who ruled with an iron fist. But she gave everyone second thoughts when she got on the floor because she would put many strippers to shame and out of work. She twerked and did splits in her couture evening gown and heels. Jaws dropped, and nearly everyone clapped and laughed until their stomachs hurt.

  “Back that ass up!” Tyler shouted and cheered on Madam Lourd. In his mind, if he were a big spender, he would be throwing dollars at her all night long.

  The boy looked over at Tyler and was immediately under his spell. He couldn’t believe Tyler was so damn fine. He wanted to do his own special dance with him . . . in his bedroom. He didn’t hesitate to mouth, “Hey, sexy.”

  Tyler brushed off his words and got up. He left Madam Lourd’s cane on his seat. He took her by the hand and danced with her.

  Not wanting to be outdone by Josie and Madam Lourd, Ivy pranced to the dance floor and started shaking her ass.

  “Shit, juvenile couldn’t even back this shit up.” Ivy rapped an old Trina song.

  King folded her arms and rolled her eyes. No man is going to want that ugly cellulite ass of yours. King just hated that this was happening in her presence.

  As Ivy danced, she looked over at Swag and Josie, who were freaking each other on the floor. She rolled her eyes and decided to show him what he was going to be missing. Ivy stood in front of Midnight, twisting her body. She clapped her ass in his face and watched the muscle in his pants grow. She also looked at King, who was pissed off even more. It didn’t bother her one bit, and she continued to seduce Midnight. He looked Ivy up and down and stroked his chin.

  “What are you waiting for, handsome?” Ivy said. “You’re not just going to sit there and not dance with me, are you?” She reached out for his hand.

  “Shit, what the hell,” Midnight said, smiling. He joined Ivy on the floor, and they partied their hearts out.

  King and Blood were the only ones still sitting and looking like two sourpusses. Blood kept a straight look on his face, but in the back of his mind, he wanted to take King by the hand and have fun like everyone else. He wanted to dance the night away with her. Sometimes, he wished that King would lighten up and have a little fun in life. Everything was always business or sex with her, as far as Blood was concerned.

  King was getting frustrated with all the Jamaican music and her guests grinding on each other, especially Swag and Josie. To her, that was the ultimate disrespect and betrayal, all wrapped in one.

  Her thoughts were interrupted when the boy got in her face. “Come on, sis! Stop being such a sourpuss and join the party.” He looked over at Blood. “You too, Plasma. I mean, Blood.” He laughed as he turned around and twerked in their faces.

  King turned her focus from Josie and Swag to the light-skinned dude. She wanted to kick him in his face, but before she could, she heard Madam Lourd coughing hard and clutching her chest. Everyone stopped dancing and focused on her. The musicians, however, kept playing their instruments.

  King immediately got up from the sofa and helped Tyler get her to the sofa. Madam Lourd continued to cough and choke.

  “Damn, ma’am, are you okay?” Tyler asked, holding her hand.

  King gave her a napkin, but she couldn’t think straight because of the loud music. She didn’t know what came over her. She looked at the musicians and screamed. “Stop playing that damn jungle mu . . . sic!”

  They immediately stopped playing, and everyone stood there, shocked.

  King’s focus was back on Madam Lourd, whose coughing and choking started to calm down a little.

  “Grandmother, are you okay?” King rubbed her shoulder.

  The last thing King wanted was for Madam Lourd to die on her. To her, Madam Lourd was the one person who gave nothing but the unconditional love that her mother hadn’t give her. Madam Lourd looked at King and fanned herself with the napkin. Within a few seconds, she started coughing again. King patted her on the back. “Grandmother, please tell me you’re okay.” She continued to rub her back.

  Swag watched the two of them. He loved this side of King, caring for others.

  Madam Lourd looked at King as her breathing returned to normal. She nodded as she smiled at her.

  “Yes, baby doll. I’m fine.” She slightly coughed again. “I’m fine. I keep forgetting I’m not that young sexy island girl I once was.” Madam Lourd started to take deep breaths in and out.

  “Are you sure? Do you want Blood to go get the doctor for you?” King was still worried. She always had the doctor on speed dial, just in case something was wrong with the family or her workers.

  “No, no, no!” Madam Lourd shouted. “I’m . . . I’m tired. I’m very tired. I need my rest. I’m going to retire to my room for my beauty rest.”

  Madam Lourd tried to get up from the sofa, and King assisted her. She looked over at Blood and motioned for him to come their way.

  “Blood, dear, please take Madam to her quarters for the evening.”

  “Of course, Boss,” Blood said, winking at King to let her know he didn’t forget her promise.

  Madam Lourd held her arms out for Blood. “Take me, Zaddy.” She put the biggest Kool-Aid smile on her fa
ce.

  Everyone laughed.

  Blood swept her off her feet and exited the great room. After they left, things started to calm down a little. But something came over King. She appeared possessed by a demon. She walked up to the boy and slapped the dog shit out of him. He fell to the floor and held his cheek.

  “What in the hell was that for?” he asked. He kept touching his face and felt wetness on his lips.

  King wished she had a switchblade or anything sharp to slice up his face. She started to stomp his face with her heel, but Ivy pulled her back from him.

  King looked at Ivy like she had just lost her mind.

  “Look, Mother, this doesn’t concern you—”

  Ivy pointed her finger in her daughter’s face. “Look, chica, you may rule all of Costa Rica, but at the end of the day, I’m still your mother, and you won’t ever disrespect me or your brother, Santana!” Ivy pointed at Santana, who was getting off the ground.

  Everyone was stunned at the words Ivy spoke to King.

  King looked at Santana, who was straightening his clothes. She loved her brother, but she hated him because he was a reminder of something she could never forgive her mother for a long time. And every time she looked at Santana, all she could think of was the past that messed her up for years.

  “But, Mother!” King shouted.

  “No buts. He is still your brother, and no matter how much you hate him, you don’t have to harm him.” Ivy gave King a stern look like she were 7 years old.

  King looked at Santana. “I wish Ivy would’ve aborted your ass cause you ain’t nothing but a damn mistake, you faggot ass!”

  Ivy slapped King, whose jaw dropped wide open.

  “Don’t you ever, ever disrespect Santana!”

  King shot her mother an evil glare. Ivy walked over to Santana and embraced him. He kissed her on the cheek, then looked at everyone with a smile on his face.

  “I’m still pretty! And by the way, everyone, my name is Santana. Santana Costello at your service.” He bowed and winked at Tyler, who ignored him again.

  King felt jealous of the affection her mother gave to Santana. She was so pissed off at the events that happened this evening. First, it was Josie doing that ratchet dancing thanks to her brother, and then Madam Lourd had scared her to death. She took a deep breath, threw her head back, and stormed out of the room.

  Chapter 15

  The Secret

  When Blood and Madam Lourd got to her quarters on the other side of the Palace, Blood opened the door to her room, which was incredibly gorgeous. The colors of the room were silver and red velvet—from the walls to the furniture. She had pictures of old Hollywood stars in the golden age of Hollywood. Also, she had a collection of expensive wigs in her closet. She also had a vanity table with bright white lights surrounding it.

  Blood put her on the edge of her eighteenth-century bed. Once she was settled, Madam Lourd opened up her nightstand drawer, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. She took two puffs and blew out the smoke. She crossed her legs and leaned back a little on the bed.

  Blood couldn’t believe this woman who almost coughed her guts out was now having a cigarette. He just shook his head. That’s Madam Lourd.

  Madam Lourd started to cough.

  Blood was worried. “Madam, are you okay? Do you want me to call the doctor?”

  She waved him off. “No, no, darling. I’m fine. Like I told King, all I need is my beauty sleep. Now sashay away.”

  Blood took a deep breath. “Okay, but no more cigarettes for tonight,” he removed the cigarette from her hand, “or your nightly dose of scotch.” He puffed on the cigarette before putting it out.

  Madam Lourd rolled her eyes.

  “You want some warm milk and a sleeping pill?” he asked.

  “Boy, I’m old, not dead yet. Now, get out!”

  Blood smiled and nodded. He leaned in to kiss her. “Good night, Sophia.”

  She smiled. “Night, boy. King is waiting for you.”

  He laughed as he walked toward the door. But before he left, Madam Lourd yelled out, “Blake!”

  Blood knew whenever she called him by his government name, something was always up. He turned around, thinking she changed her mind about calling her doctor. He went to the bed and sat beside her.

  “Yes, madam? Do you need the doctor to come by? Do you want King or Ivy?” Before he could shout for either woman, Madam Lourd touched Blood’s arm.

  “No, no, darling. Like I said earlier, I’m fine. All I need is my beauty rest.” She laughed while licking her lips. “All I wanted to tell you was dick King down good.” She rubbed on the dick print lining on his slacks. “Mmm . . . firm.”

  Blood was shocked. He shook his head and laughed as he got up from the bed. He was ready for King, and after he took his mind off her, his focus was back on Madam Lourd.

  “Anything else you need before I head out?”

  Madam Lourd uncrossed her legs. She was aroused after feeling on Blood’s penis. At that moment, she needed her own bedtime snack—some sweet chocolate.

  “Oh, could you tell that fine-ass Midnight to be in my boudoir in two hours. I’m in the mood now for a Hershey’s bar with almonds. Mmm . . .”

  “But, Sophia, are you sure you need dick right now? I don’t want you to hurt yourself. If King finds—”

  “Look, dear, forget about King. I’m horny as hell, and I ain’t too old to get my freak on. Now, do what I told you to do. I want Midnight in my bed in two hours. Now get!”

  Blood nodded. “As you wish, Madam Lourd. Good night.”

  “Night, darling.”

  Blood left the room.

  Madam Lourd took a deep breath. “Thought the big stud would never leave.”

  She got up and sat at the vanity mirror while looking at her face that was beat to perfection. She reached for some face wipes to wipe off all her makeup. Once her face was completely bare, she was back to the woman that looked her real age, instead of looking like a film goddess in her 40s. Now she was ready to face her next disappointment, besides losing her beauty. She took off her wig and placed it on the table. She faced herself again, not only looking at her bare foot but also at her partially bald head. Seeing the old woman she really was, Madam Lourd broke out crying. Her dramatic tears were broken when she started coughing hard again. She got a Kleenex and held it over her mouth. When she stopped, she saw blood on the Kleenex. “Damn this stage three breast cancer!”

  She wanted to break the vanity mirror but decided not to. She was diagnosed with breast cancer by her doctor six years ago. She did what she was supposed to do. She went to chemotherapy daily and took her medicine. It caused her to lose a lot of weight and made her once thick, curly hair fall out. This made her keep up her appearances so no one would worry. Hell, she was still a boss, even though King had taken her position. In her mind, she was in charge of the girls.

  When the doctor told her that he would have to remove both her breasts because the chemo wasn’t working, Madam Lourd declined. She had already lost a lot of weight and her trademark West Indian hair. But when it came to her Dolly Parton-sized breasts, that was the last straw for Madam Lourd.

  Madam remembered the exact words her doctor told her about putting herself at considerable risk for not getting the surgery. Just thinking about the ordeal pissed her off. She got up and went to her bathroom.

  She slipped off her gown and was adamant that cancer wasn’t going to keep her down. As she looked in the mirror, you could see that her breasts were now deformed and red from the disease spreading. To her, if she were going to die today or tomorrow, she was going with all God gave her to work with. Her mind was made up. It was her time to go, and she was going to be remembered as being a boss and a celebrated escort.

  She kept thinking about the doctor she’d paid very well to prescribe her the best pain relief medicine money could buy. It was against the doctor’s practice, but with the money Madam Lourd paid, he couldn’t refuse. He had prescribed her methadone s
hots to kill some of the pain. He ordered them every month for her, and Madam Lourd kept him on the payroll. If she needed anything, he’d be there no matter what. Her doctor was putting everything on the line for just one patient. He was putting his license, his practice, family, and reputation in jeopardy for one old lady. Shit, the money Madam Lourd was paying him was enough to feed a small country. Plus, adding a little bonus to sweeten the deal by sending him tail from women or men he could bang anytime for free. Madam Lourd knew the doctor was a happily married man with three adult children. But in her world, all men needed a different variety from time to time. She knew the doctor couldn’t pass up free punany. He was a frequent customer at the Palace and never slept with the same woman twice.

  Madam Lourd laughed at the thought of her greedy doctor having his cake and eating it too. Men. Then a sharp pain went through her chest.

  “Oh—”

  She held her chest while trying to keep her balance. The last thing she wanted to do was fall and break a bone, knowing her body was so fragile. She didn’t want Ivy, King, or anyone else to find her on the floor. She didn’t want anyone to find out about her diagnosis. One thing she’d learned in the escort business was never to show fear or weakness. She knew if King ever found out, the first thing she’d do was curse her out. Then fire her doctor and ruin whatever he loved. King would hire the best doctors in the world to keep her alive, and as crazy as King’s ass was, she’d hire a voodoo witch doctor to put a spell on her to make her live forever.

  She laughed about the idea and tried to ignore her unbearable pain. It was now going down to her stomach, making her want to vomit. She rushed over to the toilet and poured her guts out. She hated being this way some days and nights and wished the pain would all go away, or she’d just die. She stayed on her knees for a moment facedown in the toilet, waiting for more to come out. But nothing did, so she finally flushed the toilet.