by Kandee Reyna
“Not tonight.” I move to shut the door.
“For real? You bring that fat bitch up here before midnight, and then you’re done for the night? She wasn’t even here that long. Surely, she couldn’t have taken care of your needs. Let me help you finish.” Her tone changes with the last sentence. Seduction drips from her lips as she puts a hand out, reaching for my cock. Renee’s curves were perfection, only a fake ass bitch like Natalie would stoop to calling her fat.
“Come on, let me up. I’ll suck you ‘til you can’t see straight.”
My eyes move to her lips, they’re plump, and she’s not lying. She’s damn good at giving head, a fucking vacuum. Especially if she’s on it. The coke makes her hungry for dick. “No. You need to go.”
“Screw you, Lo! You’re just mad I made your new whore cry.” She shoots daggers with her eyes.
“What’d you just say, Nat?” I grab her wrist and pull her up the stairs and shut the door. I push her up against the wall holding her in place with my forearm across her chest, and my hand pressed on the wall beside her head. A smug smile spreads across her face. She thinks I’m about to fuck her. “You stay the fuck away from her.” I ground out, close to her face. “You ever see her in here again, you’ll turn and walk the other way, or I promise you, I’ll call your coke dealer and tell him you’re a fucking rat and give his hounds your address.”
Her eyes widen with fear and a small part of me feels like a dick for scaring her, but it passes quickly. “Get the fuck out.” I spit.
Without a word she leaves.
Chapter Six: Renee
I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my life, but that right there was by far the stupidest. One time, when I was thirteen, I walked out onto a small pond that had iced over while I was spending Christmas break with my aunt in Oklahoma. She’d warned me any ice wouldn’t be completely solid yet and to steer clear, but her warning fell on deaf ears. I thought since the pond was small, it would’ve been frozen all the way. I didn’t know it was thin ice until my feet broke through the layer and plunged me chest deep into the frigid water. The water was so cold my breath immediately left me, and I struggled to breathe, let alone move. I was stunned. The icy water so cold it burned; my skin prickled like someone was poking me with thousands of tiny needles. I thought for sure I was going to die, and it was the only thing I could think about—that, and trying to pull air into my lungs, and I would have, had my cousin not seen me and come to my rescue. That was stupid, but I think this tops it.
My foot reaches the bottom of the stairs and I’m about to step down but someone blocks my way. “Have fun up there? Bitch.” The lanky blonde in front of me is about 5’9 in killer stilettos. She’s in a tiny red dress that, I swear, probably shows her ass cheeks when she walks. Her make-up is perfect. She looks like she was once beautiful before she shot shit in her lips and spent too much time in a tanning bed. Her salon perfect waves flow down her shoulders onto her obviously fake boobs, and the neckline of her dress ends at her abdomen, showing off a belly button ring that has two chains dangling from it with stars at the end. She’s like a life size Barbie, if Barbie came dressed as a whore in stripper heels.
I should walk past the bitch and ignore her, but I can’t. Fuck that. I’m angry. I was basically pushed out the door after Lo, the asshole, fucked me up against a window. I’m pissed about the fact that I liked it even more, though. “Yes, Bitch.” I put emphasis on the name, “I did. He fucked me damn good. Told me my pussy was much better than any blonde whore he’d ever had.” I shoulder past her open mouth and spot Viv and Krys on the floor. One look at my face and they both make a beeline to me.
“Who we fuckin’ up?” Vivian yells over the beat without hesitation. God, I love her, but right now I need to get the hell out of here before I lose my shit. I refuse to cry over this fool.
“No one. I need an Uber. It’s time for me to go.”
Krysta is the first to protest, “What!? No! What happened to Mr. Hottie? Damn, he was dreamy.” She fans her face. “And you’re supposed to drive my car home, remember!”
“The dream’s over,” I snap and then instantly regret it when her face falls. “Sorry. He turned out to be an ass, and I just want to get out of here.” I tell her with a weak smile.
She nods her head, “Okay. Say no more.”
“Car’s on the way.” Viv says looking up from the app. “Let me go tell Manny we’re going.”
“No! Y’all stay. I just think it was too soon for me to go out.” The lie feels bitter on my tongue, and I know I can only pretend to be beat up over Jeff a little bit longer, “The night’s still young, stay. Enjoy your night, and you,” I point to Krys, “Go get you that bartender’s phone number and leave your car here. We’ll get in the in morning.” I kiss both their cheeks and head out into the night.
Monday morning snuck up on me. I spent all day yesterday nursing a hangover. When I got back from Haze, I sank into a bathtub so full of bubbles it looked like a two-year-old ran it and I drank wine straight from the bottle. Classy, I know. Two bottles later, I was still fucked up over my night with Lo, but at least I was drunk. Calling him by his name feels ridiculous. It would probably be better if he hadn’t told me his name, so the fuck could be just as impersonal as he obviously wanted it to be.
I avoided Krysta all day. She ended up in the bed of the sexy bartender and didn’t get home until after noon. I pretended I was asleep until she went to nap off her night, then sat up folding laundry and watching trash T.V. and slipped back to bed before she woke. I didn’t want to face her, but I know she’ll be between me and coffee this morning and I’m not ready for that. Not yet. Too many questions I don’t want to answer. Too many questions I don’t have the answer to, so I stay in bed until the last possible minute.
I finally drag my ass out of bed, dress and shower in my room, throwing on my favorite jean shorts and a gray V-neck shirt. It’s light and fits loosely, perfect for the summer heat. Grabbing my favorite maroon, knit cardigan from the hook on the back of the door I step out of my room to the sound of Krysta in the kitchen. I know there’s no way I’m avoiding her now.
“Morning, chickee, coffee’s brewed already. Those two bottles in the trash tell me why you didn’t get out of bed yesterday, but they don’t tell the story of why you drank them, or why you avoided me.” Her eyes bore into mine, and I look away to grab a mug from the cabinet.
“I know. I let Lo, that was the guys name, take me up to his private room Saturday.” I pause waiting for her to react. This could go two ways. She’s either going to scold me for being stupid or commend me on landing a guy who can afford the VIP.
“You what!?” Okay, so scold. Cool.
“I know. It was the stupidest thing I have ever done. Not only because he fucked me sideways and then basically dismissed me before his dick went limp, but because I’m letting it get to me.” I raise my eyes to look at her. “It was amazing.” I swoon, making myself sick, and I stomp my foot like I’m three.
“It must have been, that’s usually my MO, not yours,” She eyes me. “Are you gonna be okay? He just said, ‘get out’ when you were finished? You should have socked him!”
“Not exactly, but as soon as we finished things shifted. It was just… in the air. He turned to stone. I knew it was time for me to go, and honestly, staying would have made shit super awkward. How was the bartender?” I try for a change of subject.
“Damn.” She was speechless. A feat for Krysta.
“The bartender?” I try again.
“Eh, you know. I come, they come. I leave, they stay.” She looks down at her shirt and wipes away an imaginary piece of lint, shrugging her shoulders. Nerves. Something about the bartender… got to her. I’ll be damned. “But, damn.” She says again.
“Exactly. I let it mind-fuck me all day yesterday. However today, I’m getting my shit together. I can’t do this. Especially not over someone who didn’t even give me his phone number or thank me for bending over for him.”
/> Krys smiles, “But, was it good?” She reinforces, trying to get more out of me.
“So. Fucking. Good.” I say pouring my coffee and dropping an equal amount of vanilla creamer into it. Flames flick in my stomach and my insides clench just thinking about it. “We were hot and heavy and then, slam. I could feel the room ice over and he wouldn’t even make eye contact with me. I mean, he wasn’t exactly an open book sharing his life story before we fucked, but he just shut down as soon as he pulled out.”
“Damn.”
“You already said that.” I watch her over the rim of my cup.
“I know, but… Damn.”
“Then, on my way down the stairs some bitch stopped me. She knew what I’d been up there doing and tried to stake claim like she owned him or something; maybe she does for all I know, but I wasn’t in the mood and called her a whore. Told her he fucked me good and said it was way better than anything she ever gave him.” I smirk and take another sip of the liquid that’s starting to make me feel alive.
Krysta bursts out laughing, “No you didn’t!”
“Oh, I sure did. She didn’t eveknow what to say, just stood there with her jaw hanging down to her fake boobs.” I grimace, “She probably climbed the stairs to have a turn after I left.” That doesn’t sit well with me. I feel territorial— over something that isn’t even fucking mine.
“Who cares? What a jerk! We should go back this weekend. Give him a mind fuck, if he was there last night he’s liable to be there again.” She smiles deviously. Krysta knows how to work a man. She has the ability to make them come crawling, but she never helps them up from their knees. Always walks the other way. Usually men have commitment issues, but Krysta’s the “hit-it-and-quit-it type.” She’s the one who throws a lot of guys for a loop when she walks away after a night of hot sex and never calls.
“I don’t want to ever see him again. He owns the club, so there’s not even the slightest chance he wouldn’t be there.” Though, he’d probably be up in his lofty tower, fucking another bitch and wouldn’t even notice me, if I did return. The thought pisses me off and makes me want to cry in the same gut-wrenching swing. Revenge courses through my veins, and I consider what Krysta says. It would be good to give him a taste of his own medicine, I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes.
“He OWNS the club!?” Krysta shouts. “Holy shit, girl. I know that guy, well, not like know, know him. I’ve heard of him though. Vivian’s heard about him through Manny and my dad’s done business with him before, though I’m not sure for what.” She flicks her wrist dismissively. “He owns half the night clubs within a twenty-mile radius of downtown and various other businesses, including strip clubs. Dude’s fucking loaded.” Her eyes go serious, “Manny says he’s a broody motherfucker though, and is friends with his gangster brother. Always in a shit mood, barking out orders… and that he pulls chicks from the club up to his room, has women that come in every night just hoping they’ll get picked. Says they usually go up later in the night though and leave at last call.” There’s worry in her eyes, but fire in mine. “Maybe you should stay away. I don’t know, Ree.” Her voice is high pitched and whiney.
The look on my face tells her all she needs to know, and she huffs knowing she’s not going to talk me out of what she started. “So, I should call Viv and tell her we’re going out this weekend?”
The devilish smile is still on my face. “Yeah, you should call up Viv and tell her we’re going out again this weekend.” I repeat with finality, “Can I borrow your red dress?”
“Yes, you can borrow my red dress,” She answers, still unsure if this is a good idea. “What am I gonna do with you, baby girl?”
“Love me, and help me look hot on Friday? And give me lots of tequila?”
“Fine. I’ll love you, help you, and give you alcohol poisoning on Friday… but you’ve got to be careful.” Her eyes are serious.
Krysta is hardly ever serious, so I aim to appease her, making a crossing motion over my chest with my hand. “Cross my heart. Come on, we’re gonna be late for Chem.”
Friday comes just as fast as Monday and I’m thankful for the light load of homework I have, and for my last class being canceled. I’m cross legged on the floor surrounded by art history books and my laptop when I hear the buzzer at the door. Walking over I press the intercom, “Yes?”
“I have a package for Miss Renee Moran.” Weird. I didn’t order anything but who am I to deny a delivery? Especially one I didn’t pay for? Maybe my dad sent me something.
“Okay, come on up.” I buzz the delivery guy through.
A knock sounds at the door and I pull it open. A man well dressed in a suit stands on the other side. He’s tall with sandy brown hair in a military cut, serious honey colored eyes, and muscles that bulge beneath his suit. “You don’t look like any delivery guy I’ve ever seen before,” He smirks and holds out a package.
“For you.”
“Um, thanks… I guess.”
“Have a good afternoon.” He says, pivoting to leave without a second glimpse in my direction.
I step out and start to ask who it’s from, but let it go and shut the door. I’m sure whoever it is will sign their name. The package is no bigger than the palm of my hand, but beautifully wrapped in a powdery blue paper that refracts the light and is tied with a silky white bow. I unravel the flawlessly tied bow and rip into the paper to find a small, white jewelry box. What the hell is going on? Gripping the box, I open it and find the prettiest tennis bracelet I’ve ever seen, with a folded-up piece of paper sitting on top. It’s rose gold, with leaf-shaped diamonds that form tiny “v’s” nestling into each other all the way around. With shaky hands I lift the bracelet and set it on the kitchen counter. It looks too fancy to be in my kitchen, let alone on my wrist.
Remembering the note, I open it up. It’s on a piece of clean, white stationary with the name Milo Turner stamped at the bottom right corner with his phone number. Holy shit, he sent me a bracelet. I’m not even sure how to feel about this. How the fuck did he even get my address, let alone my last name? His hand writing is all caps, small and well formed. It looks like a man wrote it, but it’s also neat and easy to read.
Renee,
Thank you for Saturday.
Please accept this present. it’s almost as lovely as you.
What the actual fuck? My sex jolts. He thinks I’m lovely? Ugh. Well snap out of it, bitch. He fucked you and dismissed you like a worn-out teacher on the last day before summer vacation, he couldn’t wait for the bell to ring. This guy has fucking nerve, I’ll give him that… he also has an incredible dick, he can have that too. I squeeze my thighs together seeking relief from thoughts of his fingers working circles around my clit while he slammed into me from behind. It was provocative and satisfying the way he knew what my body craved. His hard cock had pounded into me mercilessly and I felt it for hours after I left.
The sound of a key in the door handle has me coming back to the present. Krysta walks into the door and drops her bag on the floor.
“Swear to God Mr. Henderson is trying to kill me.” She moans, kicking her bag and slamming the door. “I can’t go tonight. I have to get this test turned in. He’s being such a dick.”
“Krys, that test was due yesterday.” I look at her in disbelief.
“I know,” she whines, “and I tried to talk him in to giving me until Monday, but he wouldn’t go for it. I have to get it in by midnight tonight, or I’m fucked, and I have to explain to my parents why I’m such a screw up.” She falls back onto the couch, her hair fanning out just as dramatically with the fall as her.
“No, don’t do this to me.” I mimic her whiny tone, “Look what someone had delivered a few minutes ago.” That piques her interest and she immediately stands and walks over.
“Oh, goodie! I love presents.”
“Well, hold on to your panties, then.” I pull the bracelet from the box and hold it out on my finger.
“Holy fucking shit, Ree! That’s an 11,00
0 dollar bracelet!” She snatches it from my hand.
My ears ring, “Come again?”
“You heard me! Where the hell did you get that thing?”
“Lo.” I say his name cautiously.
“He came here?” She looks around like he’d leave a trail of evidence behind him.
“No, he had it delivered. With a note.” I pass the folded paper to her. She scans it with her eyes, flipping it over looking for more.
“That’s it? That’s all he said?” I nod, and she lets out a sigh. “Damn Ree.” Her tone is flat.
“Oh, Lord. Not this again.” I tease.
“I mean it. Maybe you should just stay home with me tonight? I’ll finish fast and we can order in.”
“No, I’m going. I’ll have Viv with me. It’ll be fine. Come on, help me get ready before you get started.”
She points a finger at me, “Okay, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. This is a bad idea, especially for an innocent like you.” She smacks my ass as we head down the hall.
“I’m not so innocent anymore after last Saturday.” I joke, but I don’t feel it when I laugh. Milo has fucked with my head. I have no idea what I’m doing going back to the club tonight. He’s the type of man that could break me. Shatter my heart into a million pieces that could never be put back together the same, leaving me with deep fissures, like a china vase glued back together. Whole, but always broken. I study the bracelet as I place it on my vanity. The thing cost more than my car. I can’t accept it, and I’ll have to return it. Yes, a big ‘fuck you’ to Mr. I’ll-fuck-you-and-dismiss-you.
Chapter Seven: Lo
I’ve been on the phone all day with buyers. Starting up businesses, especially clubs, and selling them can be shady business when you have mobsters offering millions for a club when it should go for half their bottom line. Their negotiators are damn fucking good too, but I would never sell my shit to them. I’d rather keep them and hire out management; stay on as a silent partner to ensure they never stray. Muddying up the area with the Russians bullshit is the last thing this city needs. Too many college chicks walking these streets to throw in some gangsters with no morals. They’d have them turning tricks before they could make it to class on Monday. I lean back in my leather office chair and put my feet up on the desk. My home office is silent minus the tick of the wall clock telling me it’s already after nine. I wonder if she liked my gift?
