Heartless

by Al-Saadiq Banks

  41

  Philadelphia

  The Next Day

  They say when it rains, it pours, and right now Storm feels like she’s standing in the middle of a cyclone. She’s been living in the matrix the past few days with the series of events that have taken place. It’s back to back drama with no break in between. Her life is full of pandemonium at this point. She is in need of a few days away from all the turmoil. Maybe then she can get her mind right and think about her next move or two.

  Staying at her apartment is out of the question because she’s sure they will return. Last night she stayed at the Trump Hotel in New York, just to be out of Jersey. This morning she received a call from the Ethiopian Princess, the nickname she’s given the girl she met in Atlantic City. Beeba begged her to come to Philly to visit her.

  She wasn’t really for it with all that she has going on, but she figured the timing was perfect. Going to Philly is good for her now that she can’t stay at home. In addition, this will give her time to cut into the girl to see if there’s anyway she can add her to the team. Her husband seems to stay glued to her hip always, but she’s sure if she can get her away from him, just for a few minutes, she could work her magic.

  As Storm cruises through the Philadelphia, she gets a strange feeling. Even though she’s two hundred miles away from home, she feels like she belongs. The pulse of the city makes her feel quite comfortable. Of all the places that she’s ever visited, this seems to be a favorite for some strange reason.

  It’s not the beauty of the city because truly there isn’t much beauty that she’s seen so far. It’s the same old ran-down ghetto that she’s used to back at home, just with row homes. What attracts her to the city is the feeling of familiarity. Strangely she feels as if she knows her way around.

  This is her very first time here, yet she navigates through the city as if it’s her own. Some landmarks are memorable to her and even the names of streets. Riding through certain blocks, she experiences deja vu. It’s perplexing to her and mind boggling. She’s not sure if she’s visited here as a kid or not, but things just seem to stick out for her. It’s peculiar to her how certain blocks even give her a creepy feeling. The whole twenty minutes that she’s been in the city has been one staggering experience.

  She picks up her phone and dials. As she turns the corner she listens to it ring. “Beeba, I just turned onto Passyunk Avenue.”

  “Okay,” Beeba replies. “I’ll be standing right in front of the spot waiting for you. Keep coming down. You’ll see me. You’ll see a Porsche right in the front.”

  The chrome four-door Porsche Panamera stands out boldly. It’s the only car on the block. Storm admires the beauty, having never seen anything this sick. “I see you,” she says with her eyes still glued onto the car.

  “Okay,” Beeba replies before hanging up the call. She looks around wondering which direction Storm could be coming from. Storm is displeased immediately once she sees the woman’s husband getting out of the driver’s seat. She was hoping that the woman would be alone, even though that was a far-fetched idea.

  Storm honks the horn to catch their attention. Both of them are a bit surprised to see her riding in class. She was dressed down the day they met her, and both being super materialistic, they kind of judged a book by its cover. It’s a chance that they thought she was just some ordinary, young, naive, around-the-way girl that they could take advantage of. Now they are both reassessing.

  Storm parks, and before she gets out, she digs into her bag. She sifts through the stacks of money that she obtained in Ohio. With nowhere to stash it, that she trusts, she is forced to bring it with her. She slides her faithful little friend, the palm sized .45, out of the way until she finds her lipstick in the corner of her junky purse. She applies her lipstick and gets out.

  She creates a spectacle as she prances across the street like a supermodel. Today she has on her favorite and now, thanks to the police, her only fur coat. Had Toy not borrowed the coat a couple weeks ago, this too would have been in the custody of the police. The Russian Golden Sable full length is the most expensive animal in her zoo, as she refers to her fur collection. Mr. Antonelli bought it for her and spent forty-seven grand for it.

  The two materialistic label whores know the price of the seventy-thousand dollar coat so they charge it off as a fake. As they scrutinize her jewelry and the rest of her trinkets that thought vanishes from their mind. She now has them both stunned. They are questioning what they have stepped into.

  Beeba opens her arms to welcome Storm. Storm leans in for the hug and Beeba kisses her on the cheek. “Hey, Storm.” She looks into Storm’s eyes with that same flirtatious, seductive look that started it all.

  The man stands with open arms, awaiting her. She ignores the invitation and offers a fist bump in return, which offends him. He fist bumps her with a sneer.

  “Look at you, girl,” Beeba says, looking Storm up and down. “You look like a million bucks.”

  “So, do you,” she replies out of respect, but truly she’s not impressed in the least bit. She may think she’s killing it, but all Storm sees is a mixture of designer labels thrown together to look like class.

  “You ready?” Beeba asks as she grabs Storm’s hand and leads the way.

  Storm follows with very little trust. She unzips her purse for easy access to her gun, just in case. Beeba leads her to the doorway of the building that they are in front of. No sign, or canopy on the building, creates suspense.

  When Beeba invited her here to show her the city, she asked if she had anything in particular she wanted to do or see. Storm denied and left it up to her. She told her she’s a chameleon that can adapt to anything. At that point, Beeba knew exactly where she would take her.

  After a few taps on the odd-looking door, it opens. A bouncer stands behind the door, and once he recognizes Beeba’s husband, Jay, he pulls the door open wider. This tells Storm they must be regulars here.

  “Welcome to Pleasure Garden,” the bouncer says to Storm with a smile, recognizing this is her first time here.

  Once they are inside Storm looks around curiously. They walk down the long and narrow, dimly lit hallway. At the end of the hall, they enter a large space. The bar with the stripper pole makes her think it is just a typical strip joint. She laughs that this is where they chose to bring her.

  There is also a buffet inside. Tables and booths fill the other side of the room. She’s surprised to see couples spread throughout. They are the only Blacks in the whole spot. She wonders what kind of strip bar this is with no stripper on the pole.

  A look of confusion crosses her face as she sets eyes on couples making out in different areas of the bar. Porn is on every flat screen posted on the wall. Some of the customers have obviously gotten caught up in the heat of the moment because a few women are dancing in the middle of the room topless, boobs exposed.

  “You good?” Beeba asks, trying to feel Storm out.

  Storm shrugs nonchalantly. “I’m always good.” She doesn’t want them to see her lack of comfort confuse her with a square bitch. She laughs to herself again, thinking of how slick they must think they are. She’s sure all of this was Beeba’s husband’s idea, but she will play along with their little game.

  The man takes the lead and heads in the direction of the bar. He pulls the seat out for Storm first, then his wife. How disrespectful, Storm thinks to herself. They both take their seats and he orders for him and his wife. He looks to Storm. “Last time, you wouldn’t let me get a drink for you. Tonight, I’m not taking no for an answer,” he says with a bright smile.

  Storm flashes a fake smile back at him. “Virgin daiquiri.”

  “Awl, come on, live a little,” he says.

  “I don’t drink,” she lies. The truth of the matter is she will never drink among strangers. Plus, in a place like this she doesn’t trust anyone. The last thing she needs is for someone t
o slip a Mickey in her drink.

  “Come on! Lighten up,” Beeba says. “Embrace yourself,” she says sexily.

  “I’m embraced. A virgin daiquiri.”

  The bartender brings the drinks back, and as Jay is about to pay, Storm interjects. “Please, let me,” she says as she digs into her pocket and grabs her credit card. She feels by paying for the drinks she takes control.

  “No, I can’t,” the man insists.

  Storm hands the bartender her American Express card. “It’s too late. You already did.” She smiles.

  In less than a minute, the bartender comes back with a displeasing look. “I’m sorry. That card didn’t work for whatever reason. Do you have another?”

  Storm sinks in embarrassment. “Didn’t work?”

  The bartender doesn’t humor her one bit. “Do you have another card?”

  This is impossible, she thinks to herself. This card has a twenty-five thousand dollar limit on it and the total balance gets paid every month by Mr. Antonelli. “Try it again. There is more than enough money on it,” she says proudly.

  “I already tried it three times,” the bartender says, shutting her down.

  “Don’t worry. I got it,” Beeba’s husband says while digging into his wallet.

  “No, don’t worry,” Storm says digging into her purse. She pulls a hefty stack out of the purse and makes sure they see it. She peels off a few twenties and hands it over the counter. “Keep the change. I’m sorry for the inconvenience. I will call them in the morning.” She wonders what the problem could be with the card, but she tries to show no sign of concern on her face. This doesn’t sit well with her at all.

  42

  Hours Later

  After a few drinks, Beeba and her husband have gotten loose with their mouths and have started telling all of their business. Beeba, who is twenty-six, has been married to Jay for four years. He, basically, caught her straight off the boat from Ethiopia. A naive foreigner who won over using his money and American Charm.

  Jay was a professional football player with the San Francisco 49ers before he got injured. Now he’s a businessman with a few restaurants and a host of real estate property. Beeba is a housewife with no income, which allows him to control her with his money. It was also confirmed that they are swingers.

  Once they were good and tipsy, they took Storm on a grand tour of the rest of the club, which was very interesting, to say the least. They took her to the members only, private section of the club, where they showed her many rooms with couples and even groups of people having sex in them. Some were discreet and had the doors closed, but you could peek inside the window. In other rooms people are having sex with no shame as the doors were wide open.

  It wasn’t long before Beeba and Jay began going at each other like two horny dogs right in front of her. They put on a show for her to watch. She sat back, cool and calm, as if this was normal for her. They even had a bag of tricks that was bought from the novelty shop downstairs. From motion lotions to vibrating dildos, the couple displayed how each toy worked. It wasn’t long before Jay took his shot. Storm watched as he whispered to Beeba to invite her into their little game.

  They both were pleased that she agreed to join in. She could sense that he was more enthusiastic about it than Beeba was. Storm is sure that he expected to see his wife and herself indulge in some girl-on-girl activity. The strap-on that he bought was evidence he believed she would submit. Neither of them expected she would use his own weapon against him.

  Beeba is bent over the Jacuzzi, doggy style while her husband is hunched over behind her. He attempts to please his wife, hitting her with close and fast rabbit strokes. He’s highly distracted by Storm who stands behind him, equipped with a strap on, wailing on him with no mercy. He denied at first, but Storm told them she was willing to play only if they played by her rules first. He gave in with no resistance when she presented her rules to him. He expected that he and his wife would turn her out; instead, she’s flipped him.

  She hasn’t even given them a glimpse of her body. The bottom of the long dress she holds gripped in one hand, the other hand on Jay’s shoulder, ramming him. Her panties, underneath the strap-on are soaked with her own juices. So disgusted with it all that she doesn’t even notice.

  Beeba looks over her and her husband’s shoulder into Storm’s eyes. Never has she imagined anything of the sort, but the sense of dominance that Storm portrays turns her on, intensely. Eventually, Jay gives up on trying to please his wife and just takes the abuse that Storm is dishing out. One would never know that Storm is disgusted by the whole act as she’s doing it so well. To see a man willing to give up his manhood like this confirms how weak some men can be, moreover how they will do anything for a woman. The thought of this infuriates her and she takes out her rage on him.

  She pounds on him like a mad drummer while he screams at the top of his lungs like a shameless porn star. His screaming can be heard throughout the whole floor, she is sure. As much as she hates it, the torturing has her cumming uncontrollably. The more he screams, the more her pussy sprays. Puddles of her juices cover the floor, her feet and her Jimmy Choos, that she still has on.

  A couple peek in the room through the window and enjoy the show without Storm knowing. Beeba, feeling neglected by her husband, slides her body from under his. She crawls into a corner and watches in a fetal position as the man of her life is manhandled like a little bitch. For the first time ever, she sees her big, strong superhero as a mere weakling who has been crushed. He’s been broken down by a twenty-three-year-old, hundred and forty pound young woman, and from the looks and sounds of it, he loves it… Man-down.

  The initial thought of it aroused her, but now that the heat of the moment is over, she’s bothered by the sight of it. It’s weird to her to see her husband in this position and haunting to see him enjoying it. As much as she would like to blame it on the liquor, she can’t. With the way he’s howling, she isn’t sure if he’s in pain, or if his howls are of enjoyment. Either way, she’s disgusted right now. The sight has her ready to throw up. The tears drip slowly down her face.

  This act can be equated to the days of slavery when the slave-masters would beat the men in front of their wives and children to reduce their masculinity. Seeing the head of their household broken down into submission would make them lose respect for the man and make them gain even more respect for their master. As Storm wails on him and she sees the hurt in Beeba’s eyes, she realizes that she has taken away the power he had over her. There’s no doubt in her mind that she now has the juice.

  * * *

  One hour later, Storm sits in her car, still parked in front of the spot. Standing at her door, blocking her so she can’t pull off are Beeba and Jay. “Why take that long drive tonight when you don’t have to?” Beeba asks with desperation.

  Jay stands to the side letting his wife do the begging. He hasn’t said much and seems to be heavy in thought. He’s staring into space, looking crushed and broken down in spirit. Storm knows he’s pissed with himself because of what he allowed her to do. The worse part of it all is her reneging on her end of the deal.

  She never gave him what he originally wanted which was the girl-on-girl activity. When it was over, he stood there with a look in his eyes that said he had been played like a cheap whore. His cocky demeanor no longer reveals itself. He hasn’t been able to look her in the eyes since.

  “I got an early morning appointment,” Storm says as she looks at her watch. “Nine o’clock meeting,” she lies.

  Jay stands in despair. “You can sleep at our house. Get a couple hours of rest and leave early,” he suggests with desperation. Storm realizes his persistence has everything to do with him wanting to even the scales. She’s sure he feels like a sucker because he’s given up his manhood to her for nothing in return.

  Storm gets a kick out of watching him squirm. He was suave, debonair and arrogan
t when they originally met and now this. Storm is sure this is routine for them, looking for young girls to turn out. Judging by how they are acting right now, this must be the first time the tables have been turned and flipped on them.

  Storm starts the ignition and their faces sadden more. They realize it’s over. Storm turns the wheel to the left and inches up a little. “Excuse me, y’all.”

  Jay nudges Beeba to beg a little more. “Please, Storm. Why you can’t just stay?”

  Storm is now getting irked with them. “I already told y’all. Now excuse me.”

  Beeba backs away, giving her room to move. “Beeba, call me,” she says, overlooking the man.

  Just as she pulls out of the parking space, Jay speaks again. “Storm.” Storm looks to him with frustration on her face. “This all stays between us, right?” he asks. His eyes are filled with defeat.

  “I don’t know… does it?” she asks with sarcasm. She cruises off. “Beeba, don’t forget… call me,” she says before speeding up the block.

  Jay watches as the owner of his manhood speeds up the block. Beeba looks at her husband in a total different light. Once the car is out of sight, Jay attempts to stand up like the man his wife once knew. What he doesn’t know is she will never be able to see him as that man again.

  As she looks at him, the words of her deceased father echo in her mind: “A man that bends is a man that will break.” She hears this loud and clear in her head. It’s as if her father is speaking to her from the heavens while watching over her. She heard him say this so many times as a kid that she can never forget it. Her husband has been broken.