PEARL TONGUE
A Dallas Diamonds Novel
Tyrone Bentley
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
PROLOGUE
PHASE ONE - CHILDHOOD
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
PHASE TWO - TEENAGER
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
PHASE THREE - ADULTHOOD
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
Teaser chapter
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
DAFINA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2017 by Tyrone Bentley
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Dafina and the Dafina logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-1-4967-1518-0
First Kensington Trade Paperback Printing: October 2017
eISBN-13: 978-1-4967-1520-3
eISBN-10: 1-4967-1520-9
First Kensington Electronic Edition: October 2017
PROLOGUE
“Up next to the stage is your all-time favorite performer here at Pearl Tongue. After a hiatus, she’s back, and as fine as ever. Get the big faces out, because anything else will not do. Please welcome the beautiful, talented, pole professional, Lotus.”
Aphtan’s heart beat ferociously in her chest as her lungs desperately begged for air. Her fingertips went numb as the long black trench coat she wore swept the marble floor underneath her now sweaty feet. Her butter-colored skin sparkled under the lights as her stomach thumped uncontrollably with mixed feelings.
“Fuck.” She took a triple shot of Ciroc to help calm her nerves. “You got this,” she told herself. “It’s like riding a bike. You got this.”
Aphtan slowly transformed into Lotus the closer she got to the door that led to the stage. The bass from the music boomed through her ears as a feeling of nostalgia took over her. She looked down at her red-bottomed heels as she leaned against the pale blue door that separated her from her past.
She couldn’t believe that she was about to strip again. It had been six long years since she had been inside Pearl Tongue, which had been her only home at one point in time. It had been all she knew when she was seventeen, and although she hated to admit it, it felt good to be back.
Aphtan leaned her back against the door as the crowd’s roars intensified in anticipation. Her straight, red-hair wig hung gorgeously over her shoulders as she signaled for the DJ to play her signature song. She smiled as the familiar tune filled the building and brought back into her mind bittersweet memories that she had tried to forget.
All she could think about was Scooter as she opened the door and walked through it, strobe lights flashing in her eyes. The crowd went crazy once they saw her. The love in the room made her feel good, but making enough money stained her brain like bleach mixing with colored clothes in a washing machine.
She put her finger in the air, telling the DJ to run it back and start the song over. The scratching of the turntable flushed away her thoughts as she focused on only the pole. She removed the trench coat, letting it fall to the ground, revealing her two-piece custom-made gear that she hadn’t worn in years and which complemented her small, well-built frame.
Money covered the stage seconds later. She knew she would give the crowd exactly what they came for. Aphtan grabbed the pole, swaying her body up and down against it as she made her ass cheeks clap to the beat. She released one hand’s grip, spun around slowly to build up speed with the other, and climbed the pole with ease until her head was at the very top, almost touching the ceiling.
She posed on the pole, using her upper body strength to change positions. Money kept flying onto the stage as the crowd’s cheers and praise competed with the volume of the music. Aphtan continued to make her ass cheeks clap as the door at the entrance of the club swung open wildly. A hint of worry stole over her face. Her eyes grew to the size of golf balls as Scooter and his crew walked in.
“Oh, shit,” the DJ spat into the microphone. “Y’all get ready. Here’s Lotus’s signature move.”
Aphtan watched them slowly. Her eyes met Scooter’s. Fear immediately came over her. She could see the hate in his eyes; the desire to take her life. She positioned her hands, then her legs as they split in the air. She never stopped looking at Scooter as she slid all the way to the ground into a split on the floor.
Scooter stared at her from across the room. He just stared; nothing else. Aphtan could feel his pulse beating in her ears from across the room, blocking out all other sounds except the breath that was raggedly moving in and out of her mouth at regular, gasping intervals. If she could hear it from all the way across the room, she imagined it was deafening in his own ears. Their eyes locked, so now it was apparent that she too was staring.
Aphtan could not take her eyes away from the other set of eyes across the room that were staring her down. Nothing else mattered. The connection had to be held. If it broke, she would die. He would die. Maybe both of them would. Aphtan had never felt so certain of anything else in her life. Aphtan discerned that Scooter could no longer control his hands; they were shaking in an odd trembling rhythm as the color drained from his face. Yet still he stared. He looked as if he was willing himself not to run, willing the connection to hold.
“There it goes.” The DJ spun around, tangling himself into his headset. “That’s the move that has been imitated by many, but only Lotus does it right. She is the one and only Lotus.”
Aphtan eased herself off the ground. Scooter and his crew were now in the front of the crowd. All she wanted to do was get away. She put two fingers in the air to let the DJ know to end the song. She ignored the crowd’s disappointment as they yelled for their money back while she gathered the bills from the ground.
Grabbing her trench coat, she put it on and walked quickly off the stage. She could feel Scooter’s eyes follow her every move. She opened the door and rushed through it. She paced to the dressing room. Her feet sped up with each second that passed. She ran to her locker while shock consumed her body. Her heart beat inside her throat as she gathered all of her belongings. All of the strippers looked on with wonder as beads of sweat formed all over her face.
Aphtan hadn’t thought Scooter would come for her that quickly. It had only been a few hours since he’d accused her of something she had not done. She thought for sure that she could make a quick few grand and be on her way, but as th
e door closed behind her in the locker room, she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She was caught, and there was nothing that she could say to save her life.
She turned around; the smell of his cologne confirmed that it was him before her eyes ever could. A loud ringing formed in her ears as he smiled at her. He winked at her, antagonizing her. A scarce stream of pee rushed out of Aphtan as Scooter removed the gun from his waist and pointed it at her.
“Ladies,” he yelled, getting the other dancers’ attention in the room. “May we have a moment?”
The dancers screamed as they ran like a herd of bulls at the raise of a red flag. The sight of Scooter meant something bad was about to go down, and they didn’t want any part of it. He walked over to Aphtan. Tears rushed down her face without a sound exiting her mouth. He rubbed the small dimple on her cheek while they glared into each other’s eyes. He pressed the gun into her chest as she closed her eyes, inviting her end.
“Why?” He pressed the gun as hard as he could into her bare flesh. “Why would you betray me? I gave you everything, Aphtan. I upgraded you. I took you out of this place.” He pointed around the room. “Still you betrayed me. I guess a bitch will always be a bitch.”
“I didn’t steal from you.” Aphtan shook her head.
“You don’t have to lie, my love.” He leaned over and kissed her.
“What do you want from me?” she screamed as she opened her eyes. “Stop playing with me. Kill me if you’re going to kill me.”
“Can I have a moment to remember you as you were?” He kissed her lips. “I do love you, despite this moment.”
“Then let me go,” she cried. “I’ll leave, and I won’t come back.”
“You know this game.” Scooter pulled the trigger and released a bullet into her chest. “I just can’t do that.”
As the sweat dripped down her forehead, she pleaded for her life. She pleaded, but her cries weren’t good enough. Before she’d even had a chance to pray, she’d heard the bullet scream out of the gun. The connection of metal and her skin was quick.
As the hard, cold, evil lump of metal penetrated her chest, she sighed. She sighed feelings of anger, anguish, and agony. She could feel the life being sucked out of her, and her eyes began to shut. Shut for good. Her life was over. And it didn’t even flash before her eyes. It was just gone. Finished. She was about to die.
Scooter caught her body as it was falling and went to the ground with her. He let her rest in his arms as blood gushed from her wound onto his freshly ironed button-up. She looked around the room, her eyes wide with fright; no, not fright, but wonder. Was she in the light? Could she see the light at the end of the tunnel?
Her skin turned a pale, opalescent color. Her hair stuck to her forehead. As he laid her head down slowly, she looked above her, at the dull roof. And before she closed her eyes, she smiled and took her last breath in the arms of the man she once loved.
PHASE ONE
CHILDHOOD
CHAPTER 1
“S-I-X.” Aphtan released the black-and-white dice from the palm of her hand, hoping to hit her number.
“You gon’ crap out,” Byron, a fifteen-year-old neighborhood hardhead, told her as sweat fell from his forehead while the dice bounced off the wall and onto the concrete pavement.
“Hell yeah.” Aphtan’s mysterious eyes sparkled from the essence of the Texas sun while she turned her baseball cap frontward. “Pay me, nigga,” she said as the dice equaled her number.
Most girls were off in packs, eyeing little boys, but that wasn’t what ten-year-old Aphtan Epps had in mind. She was the daughter of up-and-coming drug lord Lester “Boss” Epps, which made her rough exterior shine through with ease. She was a natural born hustler, and being raised by a gangster was nothing more than an enablement.
She wasn’t your average ten-year-old; she couldn’t afford to be growing up in Oakcliff, the slums of Dallas, Texas. Being in the slums would make her one of two things: hard or soft—and there was nothing marshmallow about her.
“You cheated, bitch.” Byron used the dark redbrick wall of a building to get up. “You can’t use the wall, my nigga, you cheated.”
“Stop bitching, nigga, and just pay me my bread.” Aphtan held out her yolk-colored hand.
“I ain’t paying you shit.” Byron smacked her hand down. “You can suck my dick.” He grabbed at his jeans.
“Nigga, that’s Boss’s daughter you talking to,” Peanut, another neighborhood hardhead, reminded Byron as he grabbed his arm.
“I don’t give a fuck whose daughter she is. Fuck this bitch and fuck that nigga Boss. That nigga ain’t anybody special. He sells just like the rest of our pops.”
“Fuck who?” Aphtan held her hand up to her ear.
“Fuck you and your pops, bitch.” Byron grinned.
Aphtan balled up her fist and, without thinking, punched Byron in his nose. They fell to the floor as blood gushed out of Byron’s nose and onto Aphtan’s crisp white t-shirt. Byron forced himself on top of her. He punched her like she was a boy off the street. Aphtan fought back, and they went blow for blow.
“You want to act like a nigga, then I’ll treat you like one,” Byron yelled at her as he wrapped his hands around her throat, choking her with all of his strength.
“Get off of her,” Peanut said.
Aphtan’s face quickly started to change colors. Before Byron could react to what Peanut had told him, the butt of a pistol busted him in the back of his head, causing him to release Aphtan’s throat. The pungent hit caused his vision to grow blurry. He fell over on his side with his hand holding his head, which poured blood profusely.
Aphtan caught her breath and opened her eyes to see a skinny boy with the skin tone of rich caramel hovering over her holding a nine-millimeter. His eyes looked as though they had pain behind them, and she could tell he was a dope boy simply by his appearance. His gear, his stance, and the way he carried himself gave it away. His presence reminded her of her father’s, which intrigued her.
“You okay?” The boy reached his hand down to help her up.
“I’m cool.” Aphtan grabbed his hand as she got up off the ground.
“You stupid motherfucker,” Byron yelled as he stood up. “I’ll kill you.”
“Nigga, go home before you get something hot put inside of you.” The boy pushed Aphtan out of the way.
“Byron, that’s that nigga named Scooter we been hearing about.” Peanut pulled Byron by the shirt. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”
“Hell naw.” Byron looked into Scooter’s eyes. “I should handle this little nigga.”
It was as if Scooter was repenting for his sins, from how tight his grip was on the gun. The smell of gunpowder lingered as his finger pressed the trigger. The sun’s blaze made the bullet shine like a kaleidoscope as it was ejected from the gun and entered Byron’s chest, killing him instantly.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Scooter yelled at a shaking Peanut, whose eyes were glued to Byron’s lifeless body as it now joined the cracks of the warm concrete ground.
Aphtan looked at Byron and then at Scooter. All she wanted was for Byron to pay for choking her out. She didn’t want him to lose his life. Despite her dismay, she walked over to Byron’s body and checked through his pockets to get the money that she’d won from the dice game. She took everything in his pocket, feeling no remorse for him whatsoever. Her father’s blood that ran through her veins wouldn’t allow her to.
“You should have just given me my motherfucking bread.” Aphtan kicked Byron’s corpse. “Bitch ass nigga had the nerve to choke me? Fuck you.” She spit on him.
“Let me take you home.” Scooter grabbed Aphtan by the arm and forced her body to walk.
“How you know which building I live in?” Aphtan pulled away from Scooter’s grip.
“I work for Boss, and he told me to keep an eye on you.” Scooter put his hands in his pockets before he walked off.
“How old are you?” She caught up to him.
&n
bsp; “Older than you,” he answered dryly.
“I know that, but how old are you, though?”
“Seventeen.”
“Seventeen and you’re already ruthless like that?” she asked in an impressed tone.
“It’s not a choice. It ain’t like I got shit else going for my life. I got to eat, sweetheart.” Scooter’s eyes pierced hers. “This is your building, right?” he asked as they approached a building with the letter “Q” written on the front of it.
“Yes.” Aphtan took her baseball cap off, revealing her long, sandy brown hair. “Thanks for walking me home.”
“No need to thank me.” Scooter turned around and paced off slowly. “It’s business.”
The crisp summer air blew in her face as she watched Scooter disappear into the creases of the buildings. She had never felt anything for any boy in her life, but from the way her stomach fluttered, she knew that she had developed her first crush. She smiled at the thought of them being together one day as she made her way into the building.
There was one family in each of the four apartments in every project building, except for the building Aphtan and her family stayed in. Boss used the bottom two apartments for distribution of his product. One of the bottom apartments was for pickups and the one next to it was for deliveries. The one at the top was for growing his product, and the one next to that one was the one they called home.
Aphtan entered the building, and the smell of freshly burned Mary Jane let her know that she was home. She eased up the staircase with her baseball cap in her hand, which ached from the fight that she’d had earlier. She pulled her house key out of her pocket in order to enter the door to her home, but the voices from across the hall stopped her in her tracks.
She recognized the voices; and with the hunger to know the way of the streets, eavesdropping had become one of her favorite pastimes. Her father wouldn’t tell her anything. She got her information by ear hustling. She tiptoed over to the slightly cracked door and listened to the meeting that Boss was holding with his workers.
Pearl Tongue Page 1
