by Peyton Banks
“She’s mine.”
“You don’t want her. Hell, you don’t even love her.”
“That’s a lie…”
“If you loved her, you wouldn’t have tried to sell her to your friends.”
“I never…”
“You told her to be extra nice to your friends and they would give her money. Thank God, all of you passed out before anyone could put their nasty hands on her. And thank God she remembered my number and called me before any of you woke up.”
“Extra nice doesn’t mean…”
“She pointed out where you told her they would touch her at, you sick fuck!” Criss’ voice shook as she yelled.
“There’s a special place in hell for people like you,” her granny said.
Scott rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m not like that no more. I’m clean. I’ve even moved back in with my parents. My mom is going to let me and Ashley move in with her.”
“You and your mother can kiss my ass. Shy stays here. Now get out of my house.”
“Listen here you…”
Criss cocked her gun.
“Okay. Okay. Damn it.” He started walking toward the front door. “This isn’t over.”
It never was. He’d found them again. Which meant, they had to move, again. Damn.
“Cristal, my mother wants her granddaughter. She’ll pay…”
“For the last time, my niece isn’t for sale. And your mother only wants her so that your stupid ass dad can win the minority vote in the mayoral election. Like you, she doesn’t care about Shy. But having a mixed kid present during photo ops would make your dad look good. It would make him look like he cared about the black community. Trust me, I know exactly why your mother suddenly wants you to bring Shy home to her. Tell your mother that I will never allow Shy to live with you or her. Now, get the fuck out my house and out of Shy’s life, Scott.”
Looking pissed off, he turned and stormed to the front door, only to face her as he stood in the doorway. “Can I have my gun?”
“You can have a bullet in the chest.”
“Stupid bitch,” he mumbled as he slammed the door.
Cristal rushed to the front door and locked it. She looked through the peephole and watched Scott get into his black truck. She didn’t turn away from the door until he sped off down the street.
She faced her granny. “I need to find Shy.”
“Take the gun with you. Just in case he’s makes the block and comes back.”
“Yes ma’am. My gun is locked in the hall closet. It’s not loaded.”
“I’ll get it. Go. It’s cold out there.”
Criss raced down the back hall, through the kitchen and out the back door. The neighbors’ dog barked from the other side of the fence as Criss raced to the alley behind her house then across the street to the church.
Yeah, the neighborhood they lived in wasn’t great and yeah, she didn’t like this plan she’d concocted. However, she’d rather have Shy hide out in a church than have her be taken by the monster who’d fathered her.
Though the neighborhood wasn’t good, the people respected the church and its grounds. No one squatted there or slang drugs near it. The community respected pastor Bailor. There was a shed behind the church where the pastor kept his landscaping supplies. There was where Criss found Shy, huddled up in the corner.
“Sweetie,” Criss called out.
“Auntie?”
“It’s me.”
Shy raced into her arms. Criss hugged her close. Tears dripped down both their cheeks.
“I got you baby girl. You’re safe.”
“It took me three minutes to get the lock picked.” Shy’s voice was muffled.
“What sweetie?” Criss leaned away from her niece, so she could hear her better.
Shy wiped her eyes. “During the drills, I was able to pick the lock in one minute or less.” She sniffed. “This time, it took me three minutes.”
“That’s okay sweetie.”
Shy shook her head. “It’s not. He could’ve gotten me. He could’ve taken me.”
“He didn’t. And that’s all that matters.”
Shy stared down at her hands. “I should’ve been able to get in the shed faster. My hands were shaking so bad. I couldn’t get the lock open.”
“I told you real life is different than drills. You got the lock open and you hid. That’s all that matters.”
Shy continued shaking her head. Criss pulled her niece close and hugged her tightly. This wasn’t the life her niece was supposed to have. Having drills to escape her father, picking locks, hiding on church grounds, this was no life for a ten-year-old.
No matter where they ran, Scott always found them. He always came for Shy. He didn’t even want her. He just wanted to use her to get back in his parents’ good graces. He was their only son.
She was their only granddaughter. They didn’t really care for her. The only thing they cared about was their family’s legacy. And the only thing Scott cared about was getting his trust fund back so he could waste it on drugs.
If he couldn’t get it back, he’d just go back to his original plan: trying to pimp out his daughter. Right now, Criss really wished her dad was able to return to the States. If he did, he’d be arrested. But Criss could surely use his help right now.
“Is he gone?” Shy whispered.
“He is.”
“Do we have to move again?”
Criss sighed. Shy had finally started to make friends at school. Normally, Shy kept to herself. At this school, she’d opened up a little. She talked more. She had two friends who she stayed up past her bedtime talking on the phone to.
That was what normal kids did. Criss really wanted Shy to have a normal life. She wanted to provide a stable home for her niece. She wanted her niece to make friends and excel at school. Right now, that wasn’t possible.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. But, yeah, we have to move again.”
Shy started crying harder. Damn, she wished her dad was around. One word, and he’d take care of her Scott problem for them. Problem was, her father was more of a monster than Scott was.
He was wanted by the FBI and a dozen other organizations. She couldn’t go to him for help. The only person she could depend on was herself. She would figure out a way to keep what was left of her family safe. Somehow.
As she held her niece close, she prayed for a way out of her predicament.
A few days later…
Cristal hated house hunting.
Moving wasn’t cheap. If she wanted to relocate her family again, she needed money. Lots of it. Why the hell did realtors need first month’s rent, deposit and last month’s rent? Who had that much money on them at one time? Geez.
Cristal tossed her cell phone down on her bed. She’d resume house searching next week. This weekend, she needed to focus on making money at Private Affairs. This past week’s paycheck had gone to installing an alarm system in their house.
No, they wouldn’t be living there much longer. However, while they were there, she needed to make sure they were safe. She was lucky Scott had broken into her house only a few minutes before she’d gotten home.
Even luckier he hadn’t had time to go upstairs and take Shy. Next time, she may not be so lucky. Which was why they needed an alarm system. They’d be eating grilled cheese sandwiches and off-brand chips for a few weeks because of the expensive ass system.
But, Criss was okay with that. Plus, Shy loved grilled cheese sandwiches. Criss was toying with the idea of keeping some of the money she made at the club. Con didn’t know exactly how much she made.
If she kept a little here and there, he’d never know. Plus, she’d be moving in a few weeks. Soon, she’d never have to see his face again. She doubted he’d look for her. Yeah, he’d be pissed, but he wouldn’t waste his time trying to find her.
Cristal stared down at the clothes on her bed. She couldn’t believe she’d let Angelina talk her into buying three outfits. Three outfits that barely fit. Thr
ee outfits that revealed more than they concealed.
She would be pissed to the highest level of pisstivity if she didn’t make more tips while wearing this trash. She needed to make enough to give Con his cut while keeping a little for herself.
She shuddered to think of what he’d do if he knew she was keeping some of the money for herself. Oh well. What Con didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Or her. Hopefully. Hands on her hips, she continued staring down at the clothes.
Angelina was wrong, this shit was not going to look good on her. Yeah, it fit. And yeah, it complimented her curves. Yet, it was too tight, too revealing, too… not her. It wasn’t her style.
Wearing this shit, she would feel self-conscious all night. Criss strode to her closet and began looking through her clothes. She’d feel better in her old stuff. Then again, her old stuff hadn’t gotten her much tips.
“Fucking shit!” She yelled out, frustrated.
“Swear jar,” a voice from down the hall screamed. Shy.
“Sorry,” Criss called out.
“One dollar,” Granny yelled from her own bedroom.
“Shit,” Criss whispered as she went to her purse and pulled out a dollar. She took the dollar to Shy’s room. The swear jar was on her niece’s dresser.
“A dollar,” Criss held up the money and made a dramatic show of putting it in the jar.
“Thank you. It was great doing business with you. Come again.”
“Whatever, demon-child. Have you counted it yet?”
“Yup. I have twenty-three dollars.”
“Almost enough to buy that paint set you want. Go girl.”
Shy looked down at the picture she was drawing. “I decided I don’t need a paint set.”
“What? When? Why?”
“Which question do you want me to answer?”
“Ashley Dawson!”
“Sorry. Um, I think I should use the money to help you get us a new place to stay.”
Shy’s words broke her heart. “Don’t worry about that.”
“But…”
“I got this.”
“But…”
“Shy!”
“Yes ma’am.”
“That money is going to your paint set. You got that?”
Shy nodded.
“Good. Now, I have to get ready for work.”
“Have fun.”
“I doubt it,” Criss mumbled as she returned to her bedroom to get dressed. “When I leave, make sure granny goes to bed.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Shy, do you want me to turn on the alarm system or do you want to do it?”
“I can do it. You’ll get a text telling you it’s set, right?”
“I will. I’ll wait on the porch until I get the text.”
“Thanks.”
“No problem, Shy-Pie.”
“You can’t call me that. I’m ten now.”
“Yeah, yeah, Shy-Pie.”
“Auntie!”
Laughing, Criss left her niece’s room to get dressed. She chose the skanky outfit that was less revealing. A black maxi dress that fit like a second skin. It had long sleeves and a thigh-high slit.
There was no purpose to the slit, considering the entire dress was see through. Thankfully, it came with a black skintight slip of a dress to be worn underneath it. The black slip of a dress dropped a few inches below her butt.
Shaking her head, she stared into her full-length mirror. She looked like a street walker. Criss debated over whether to straighten her hair or leave it curly. She decided on the wild curly look and light make-up.
She didn’t want to look too much like a hooker. After putting on her jewelry, she slipped on her house-shoes. She’d put on her heels after she arrived at the club. She kept her promise to Shy and waited on the porch until she got the text saying that her alarm system had been set.
When she arrived at the club, she entered through the back door. The door that suppliers used to make deliveries. Once inside, she rushed to the employee bathroom to look in the mirror.
Her boobs looked like they’d pop out of her bra if she took a deep breath. Frustrated, Criss closed her eyes and sighed. Why had she chosen to go along with Angelina’s plan? She wasn’t comfortable.
If she wasn’t comfortable, she wasn’t going to be able to give a good performance. And if she didn’t give a good performance, she wouldn’t make any tips. She needed her tips, especially if she wanted to move.
She didn’t have much money left in her savings account. Her day job was barely covering the bills. Criss opened her eyes and stared into the mirror. It was official, she sucked at being an adult.
And to think, in high school, she’d been in a rush to grow up. Growing up was bullshit. Adulting was bullshit. She couldn’t rewind time. All she could do was move forward. Criss took a deep breath.
You got this, she told herself. You’re sexy. Just as sexy as the smaller females who work here. Plus, you’re classy. And you can sing and dance. There’s no reason you shouldn’t be able to capture these guys attention and make them give you their money.
Ugh, when she said it like that, she sounded like a street walker. Criss was startled when the bathroom door burst open.
“I thought I saw you come in here,” Angelina told her. “Look at you.”
Criss could feel her cheeks heating as Angelina walked around her, staring her up and down.
“Oh my gosh, Criss, this looks so hot on you.”
Criss rubbed her hands over her dress. “You don’t think it’s too tight?”
“It’s supposed to be.”
“My breasts look like they’re going to say hello to the world at any moment.”
“They’re supposed to look like that.”
“Seriously, Lina, I’m scared I’m going to have a wardrobe malfunction.”
“That may get you more tips.”
“Lina!”
“Okay, okay. Shimmy for me and we’ll see what happens.”
Good idea. Criss began shimmying.
“No problem there. Now jump up and down.”
“In these heels?” If she’d known she’d have to jump up and down, she would’ve left her house-shoes on, instead of putting them in her locker.
“Small jumps.”
Criss did as she was told. Her breasts jiggled a little, but didn’t reveal themselves.
“Those babies aren’t going anywhere,” Lina told her. “You’re good.”
Criss turned and faced the mirror again. “I just don’t feel like myself.”
Lina’s stepped up behind her. Peering into the mirror, her friend told her, “You’re too confident to be feeling like this. You’re a bad bitch, no matter what you wear.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you feeling insecure? Usually, you’re so confident.”
“I’m still confident. I just feel…” What did she feel? “I feel… I don’t know.”
“Shy?”
“I’m not a shy chick.”
“Then what is it?”
“I feel… It’s just that, these men come here for the strippers. Clearly, I’m no stripper. And I look nothing like the girls they pay to see. I feel like they’ll look at me, dressed like this, and…”
“And what?”
“And…”
“Spit it out, bitch.”
“Alright, bitch. Geez. I feel like they’ll look at me and think I’m trying too hard. They’ll find my style laughable. I don’t want to be laughed at, ridiculed. I don’t want the other females to look at me and think I’m a joke.”
Lina rolled her eyes. “First of all, fuck them hoes. When have you ever cared about what they think of you? Second of all, must I remind you again that all pussy is pink.”
“Yeah, yeah. I remember. If it grew on trees, men would fuck trees.”
“That’s right. Men have a one-track mind when they come in here. We sell sex here. No, there’s no prostitution, thankfully. But we sell the idea of sex. All of our drinks have sexy na
mes. Everyone here dresses sexy. Even the body guards exude sex appeal. Sex sells. And you’re looking very sexy in that outfit. If you don’t make over one hundred tonight, I’ll give you all my tips.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. That’s how much faith I have in you. But you can’t go out there looking scared, Cristal.”
Cristal pouted. “I know.”
“You have to be the normal bad ass you always are. You know the people here call you the Ice Queen, because of that resting bitch face of yours. Tonight, you need to utilize that. Don’t be friendly with the patrons. Be respectful, but not friendly. Make them hungry, but don’t feed them. Tease them. Reel them in, get that cash, then drop them.”
“But won’t that make them not want to tip the next time they’re here?”
“No. It’ll make them seek you out the next time they’re here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Try it. And if it doesn’t work, we’ll figure out a plan B. But I really think this plan is going to work. Look at you. Girl, you’ve got curves for days. Some women pay thousands for curves like that.”
A small smile crept over Criss’ face. “I do feel kind of exotic. That’s why I left my curls wild.”
“I love them.”
“Me too. You’re right Angelina. I look good.”
“And you don’t look trashy.”
“Damn straight. I got this.”
“Damn right you do. Now go out there and make me proud.”
Criss turned around and saluted Lina.
“Forget that. Give me a hug.” Lina pulled her in and hugged her tightly. “Your breasts feel like pillows.”
Criss burst out laughing. “Let me go, pervert.”
Laughing, Lina released her. “If anyone gives you a hard time, come get me.”
“Lina, you can’t fight.”
“Yes, the hell I can. And I can shoot.”
“So, can I. Trust me, I’ll be fine.”
“Alright. I’ve got to go get the other bartenders’ set up. I’ll bring you over a drink to help you relax, okay.”
Criss nodded then watched Lina leave the bathroom. Criss stared into the mirror again. Lina was right, she did look good. Why was she allowing old insecurities to surface tonight? She was no longer the girl who hated the skin she was in.