by Shay Hunter
“Girl, bye, you know his ass rude,” She responded. “I’m just teaching him some manners.”
At 6 foot 2 inches tall, Killer demanded your attention the moment he walked in the room. He had the darkest skin you ever could imagine and fine hair that ran down his back, which he kept braided. He was smooth but he was as ugly as a 50-year-old pussy. His left eye was dangerously close to shutting and he was massive. But there wasn’t a bitch in Skeezers outside of my girl Cupid who didn’t want him.
He could dress his ass off and had that Notorious B.I.G. shit going for him. And on everything, I adored him but mainly the secrets we shared.
The moment he came through the door he flashed a smile my way that would make my body warm. Bryson was in the hallway gawking at Cupid as always. But no matter what he did he would never be her type so he stopped trying. Instead he took to stalking her from a far.
Killer hugged Cupid first since she was closest to the door and gripped me up in a strong hug. The best thing about his fat self was how he held me. It was as if I melted into his flesh and I loved it. My nigga always smelled good but he was that way before I got into the picture. We live together so I buy him what I love him to wear but his cologne collection was official long before I met him.
“Damn, I love you girl,” he whispered in my ear causing my body to tremble. “You gonna make me eat that ass right here. How my bitch get finer with time?”
He’s showing off in front of her but I think it’s cute.
“Uh…you not gonna do that shit in front of me,” Cupid snapped. “I’m sick of seeing you niggas fucking around here.”
He released me and looked over at her. “Shut your big head ass up. You ain’t never see us fucking. Plus you wish you had a nigga eat your ass the way I do Sprinkles’.”
My bae loved making people jealous.
She tilted her head. “How you know I don’t get my ass ate?”
His posture stiffened a little and then he waived her off. “Shut yo ass up. If you were getting that ass ate proper you wouldn’t be so thirsty and in my business.” He paused. “Now stop starting shit with me. I got shit to do.”
We all laughed and he checked his diamond embedded watch that glistened perfectly against his chocolate skin. “So what’s up, Ms. Santana?” He said to me. “You ready to bounce or not?” He paused. “Because you know I have to pick my brother up to get his car.”
“Killer, I ain’t seen you in a week,” Kitten said. “You got any surprises for me?”
The moment I heard her voice I was blown. I forgot she was still in the room.
“I ain’t fucking with you today, Kitten,” Killer sighed. “So go ‘head with that shit. It’s a bad time.”
“Cut it out, Killer!” She giggled giving him a tap on the shoulder. “You know you got a few bucks on you!” She paused. “When Sprinkles not here you be all over me and now you treating me like a stranger.”
“I doubt that seriously,” I laughed.
Some bitches are too many things and Kitten is one of them.
“If I tell you to get out my face again you gonna have trouble.” His voice roared. “Start taking care of these girls around here and maybe you can get something from me. I’m sick of the dancers calling off.” He squinted. “Hold up, what happened to your face?”
“Nothing…I’m gone.” She ran out of my dressing room.
Killer didn’t fuck with Kitten and her crackish ways but he didn’t tolerate Marvin pounding on her either. She bounced before Killer went outside, pulled him out the car and beat him into oblivion.
“Hey, Killer…before I forget, where Scholar buy a new car from?” Cupid asked. “He just came home and already you put him on. Must be nice.”
“It ain’t nothing big. I think he copped it from the Mercedes dealership down the street.” He pulled his cell from his pocket and stuffed it back.
“Damn, he got a new car, Sprinkles got a new car, I gotta catch up.” She sighed. “Either that or get some better friends.”
“Bitch, please,” I joked.
“What she need to do is get a nigga who know how to treat her. Maybe then she won’t be so bitter.” He turned toward me. “Come on, Ms. Santana. Can’t wait much longer. Gotta make moves now.”
“Alright, boy,” I said. “I’m coming. I know you didn’t want to walk in here anyway.” I focused on Cupid who looked a little mad. Killer did come down hard on her about finding a dude but she needed to hear the truth from a man. “Walk us outside, Cupid.”
She jumped up and the moment we walked in the front of the club I saw Marvin gesture for Killer to give him some dap. Why didn’t this dude just leave? I knew right away that this wouldn’t end well.
Killer looked in Marvin’s eyes, gritted and bumped him so hard he fell to the ground. Instead of approaching Killer he stepped to Kitten who was next to him, already in tears. “So you been telling this nigga my business again?”
“No, Marvin!” Kitten pleaded. Her hands were protecting her face. “I didn’t say a thing.”
I was stunned, I knew Marvin beat Kitten but I never thought he’d do it in front of the club and Killer, knowing what he would do to him. Marvin’s ashy black hands gripped her hair like he was trying to pull it from the roots.
The fright on Kitten’s face was major and he was far from done. Enraged he came down on her face with a closed fist and knocked her to the floor.
Things were already on a hundred and then Killer came out running up to him with a loaded hammer.
“BAE, NO!” I ran over toward him trying to stop the worse from happening.
Again.
CHAPTER THREE
CUPID
The club was crowded tonight and we had a lot of new faces on the scene. I hated new bitches because they stayed in my way. Killer and Levine loved to threaten us with new girls. Basically saying if we didn’t perform at our highest we could be replaced. Killer could talk that shit if he wanted but I knew I wasn’t replaceable.
I still couldn’t get over how he would’ve almost killed Marvin if Sprinkles didn’t remind him there were witnesses outside. Man…Shit gets crazy at Skeezers for real. There was something about this club that spelled trouble and yet I didn’t want to dance anywhere else.
Sprinkles was doing her thing on stage and I was in the group dressing room getting myself together when Orange Pop, a light skin new chick, walked over to me. “Hey, Cupid, what you do when you got your period?” She stood in front of me.
“Bitch, get out of my face.”
“I’m serious. I just came on.”
“If you on your period you dance,” I pulled up my G-string. The question was so dumb I thought she was playing. If chicks stayed home every time they got their period they’d stay broke.
“But how?” I looked up at her and she was fidgety.
I shook my head. I hated new girls and green ones most of all. “Normally I would send you on your way but I feel like charity tonight. You cut the string off the tampon and you push it up in your pussy. That’s how.” I paused. “Now do you bleed heavy?”
“No.” She said holding her ugly black sequin outfit. “Not on my second day anyway.”
I shrugged. “Then you should be good. But there once was a bitch who tried to use that process and she had so much blood oozing from her pussy they had to shut down the club for a week to clean the stage.” I paused. “The shit looked like a crime scene.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh…it’s not that bad at all. But thank you, Cupid. I’ll do what you suggested.”
She stood in the middle of the floor staring at me. “Go! What you waiting on?”
She walked away like I just cursed her out. I know she didn’t think I would slide it in for her. I was already being too nice with my information.
I was putting the last of my makeup on when I heard her scream. “Help!”
I jumped up and ran over to her. “What the fuck is wrong?” My heart was beating fast and I didn’t know why.
She
was sitting on the bench and there was blood everywhere. Her legs were open and she was holding small hair cutting scissors soaked in blood. “I cut myself! I cut myself!”
As bad as I wanted to leave and go do my thing on the floor I was curious. “I’m not understanding how that is even possible.” I put my hands on the sides of my face.
She opened her legs wider and her pussy lip was hanging off. “See…” She was trembling.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. A piece of her vagina lip was sitting on the floor by her foot. “Girl, what did you do?”
“I was trying to cut the string.” She cried. “Like you said.”
I put my hand on my forehead before it dropped at my side. “You don’t suppose to do it while it’s inside of you! You do it before!”
“I didn’t know,” She cried.
“Girrrrl! This is too much for me. Let me go get Kitten.” I grabbed my bag and rushed out of the dressing room but when I didn’t see Kitten in her office I hit the floor. It wasn’t my problem so why was I on the hunt for help? That green chick wasn’t about to make me miss my paper over a cut up cooch.
I came outside just as white girl Ohio was getting off. Doing a little dance, I removed my cleaner from my bag, sprayed it and wiped down the pole. Some bitches didn’t care but I wasn‘t about to put my box on the same slide as everybody else.
Chicks have gotten syphilis, herpes and some more from that pole.
When I was done I glanced around for my regulars. I had a few there but it wasn’t heavy money. So I moved my body like a snake and waited to catch some big bait. It didn’t take me long to see my victim. His eyes were on me so hard I thought he would eat me alive. And then I realized it was Scholar, Killer’s brother.
Don’t get me wrong; Scholar never did anything to me because I never met him. I just heard about him like I did Mo and how she was killed here. His rep alone made me fear him but damn was he sexy. When I saw a stack of bills appear in his hand, psychopath or not, I made my way over to the stage nearest him.
On all fours, I moved my hips and lowered my waist so my pussy opened and like magic, bills larger than a dollar fell all over my body. “You fine as shit, girl. And that pussy pretty.”
I knew how a pink pussy looked against dark skin so he was telling the truth.
I would love Orange Pop to walk out here to see what he says about her cooch.
“Thanks, cutie.” I wiggled my ass cheeks. “Glad you’re enjoying the view.”
“ I am.” He inhaled deeply. “And you smell good too.”
“You like that?” I asked popping my pussy some more so that it fanned in his face.
“Love it.”
As he continued to bless me strippers who were working the floor looked at me with hate. They could kiss my ass because I was on one and didn’t care who knew.
“Hey, beautiful, get off the stage,” he said in a deep voice, before gripping his dick. “I don’t like reading my letters in front of other people.”
“Reading your letters?” I said.
He winked.
Didn’t know what he meant but I liked his style so I was game. After my set I met him in a private VIP in the back of the club. He was finer now than he was out there and for some reason I found him interesting. Didn’t he know about Killer and me? Or was I that much of a secret Killer didn’t even tell his brother?
“What something pretty as you doing up there?” He asked as I gave him a lap dance. “I spotted your ass across the room.”
My mission was to take every dollar in his pocket so I was focused. “Working…what else?”
He tapped my ass. “Stop moving and turn around and look at me.”
Damn…and he’s bossy.
I positioned my body so that I was staring into his eyes. “What you doing up there? You could be anywhere you want so I gotta know how it happened for you.”
I hated that fucking question. If I wasn’t up there he wouldn’t be entertained and I hated when men questioned me about my career of choice. I was a stripper and he was a George. We went together like bread on a sandwich. “Because I love it.”
He laughed. “You love it huh?”
“Yeah, what did you expect me to say? That I’m going to school or trying to save up for a house?” I shook my head. “Nah, I’m here because I love how the pole makes me feel. I’m here because I love the attention men give me. And I’m here for this money. Good enough reasons?”
He tapped my ass again. “Then why you not dancing now? Come get this money.”
I giggled and moved around on his lap. “Say no more.”
“I like you…you straight up. Most chicks beat around the bush so it’s refreshing.” He paused and looked into my eyes like he was trying to read me. “What made you get like that?”
He had a New York Nigga swag that I liked and it was refreshing. Most men spent hours in the VIP trying to convince me to let them put the tip in my mouth or pussy. But he allowed me to run the show and it made me more comfortable. I could be here all night if the money continued to flow.
“I don’t know,” I shrugged. “Just tired of pretending to be something I’m not. I’m a stripper and I love it so I just own up to it.”
He nodded. “What else is there to you? That I don’t know?”
“I’m paid to dance not tell stories,” I winked. “I can make it happen but it’s gonna cost you a little more.”
He dug into his pocket and put the stack of money in my purse, full of fifties and twenties. A few bills dropped to the floor but I didn’t want to look thirsty by jumping up and stuffing them in my bag. I almost fell out when I saw the stack but I wanted to pretend this type of thing happened all the time. “Thanks, now what do you want to hear?”
He laughed and I noticed his teeth were chalk white. For a nigga just getting out of jail he came together quick. “Tell me why you don’t have a nigga?”
So he really didn’t know about me.
“Nobody’s claiming me I guess.” I shrugged. “Plus being in a relationship is overrated.”
“Somebody’s claiming your fine ass. I’m not trying to even hear that shit.” He said. “I think—”
Before he finished the curtain door came flying open and Killer appeared, his large body taking up most of the room. “Scholar, we gotta bounce—” He frowned when he saw me on his lap. “Hold up, what the fuck you doing here with my brother, Cupid?”
I got up. “Excuse me?” I frowned, bending down to get my money that had fallen on the floor. “What it look like I’m doing, nigga? I’m working.”
Scholar shook his head and laughed. “I knew she was too fine to be by herself.” He walked out leaving us alone.
Now I was really scared.
Killer moved so close to me I couldn’t get around him. “You want me to break your neck?” His breaths were heavy and blowing in my face.
“What I want now is for you to get out of my way.”
“Bitch, I’m not playing with you!”
“Yeah, whatever.” I put my hand in his face and he almost bent my fingers back. I never knew he could get like this. He just beat someone down outside of the club for smacking around Kitten. So I should’ve known. But that was a dude.
“Why are you coming at me like this when you know what I do for a living, Killer?”
“The only thing you do for a living is fuck with me. All this other shit is recreation.” He pointed his finger in my face lowered it and stuck it inside my pussy. When he pulled it out he said, “Now open your mouth.”
“Killer, I’m not about to—”
“Open your fucking mouth!”
I did and sucked all of my cream off.
“You taste that? That’s me mixed with you and if it taste any different in the future because you fucking my brother, or any other nigga, we gonna have problems. Have I made myself clear?”
CHAPTER FOUR
JAMESON “KILLER” FLOYD
“You sure ‘bout this nigga?” Scholar asked
his brother as he sat in his car. “Because one wrong move and I’m going back inside. To be honest, I don’t know if I have ten more in me.”
“You sound scared these days,” Killer said as they sat outside of his four hundred thousand dollar town home in Washington DC.
Scholar passed him the blunt after releasing clouds of smoke into the air. “It ain’t about being scared. I just got home and I want it to stay that way. At least for a little while.”
“And you know nobody wants you home more than me, bruh. Been fighting since they put you under for that last corpse. But we have to make more money than we doing now. So that means trusting new niggas and taking extra risks.”
Scholar nodded. “You right, man.” He paused. “Now what’s up with that fine ass shawty at the club?”
His eyebrows rose. “Who, Cupid?”
Scholar laughed. “Whomever you rushed in on me with, nigga. You know who I’m talking about. Don’t get amnesia all of a sudden.”
He winked. “Oh, that ain’t nothing but one of my buttercups. She good though.”
“She’s more than that based on how you was lunching. Back in the day we met bitches that I had the first part of the week with and you had the second.” He paused. “So if she ain’t nothing but a buttercup let me get at that for a day or two. You know a nigga fresh out. Need to dip my pole in something sweet.”
Killer laughed. “Aight, aight, she ain’t no Sprinkles but she’s legit with me. And I like to keep all my toys in my box if you know what I’m saying.” He paused. “I can get you something else so don’t worry about it.”
Scholar laughed harder and Killer realized how much he missed hearing his brother’s voice. Yeah he was a sadistic killer who would go the extra mile to hide a body, even if it meant eating it. But he was also family.
“You love wifing two bitches at the same damn time. All your life.”
Killer looked him dead in the eyes. “Ain’t but one wife.” He pointed at his face. “Cupid just one of my regulars and keeps things fresh.”
