“When you gonna come see me again, daddy?” She murmured as I pulled my shirt down over my head.
Raising an eyebrow and reachin’ into my pocket, I pulled out a couple hundred dollars and stuck it in her hand. “Soon.” I lied.
“Damn, thank you, daddy!” She threw her arms around me again, hugging me tightly, kissin’ on my neck and face. I smiled at her somewhat sourly, squeezed on her ass real quick then turned to leave.
“By the way,” she started, tossing the big tip I had given her on her nightstand like it was nothin’ when I was about to open her door. “Who is she? The girl you were thinking about while you were fucking my brains out?” I froze and thought about it, a red hand grippin’ the bronze door handle. “I don’t know... And neither does she.” The door closed behind me as I walked out.
“Well?” The tiefling Madame grinned and nodded up at me as I came into her view again. “Worth it?”
“Worth it,” I repeated, nodding back to her. “Worth every fuckin’ dollar. Girl’s a real dime piece.” I paused thoughtfully for a moment. “Less questions would be better though.”
Madame Pleasure cocked an eyebrow at me as I breezed passed her desk and started to descend the stairs. “Make sure you wash that off your face,” she said in her haughty, refined whore voice, “before going home to your... whoever. Come back soon, darling.”
After hittin’ the bathroom on the first floor of The Bards and the Bees and washing off the hybrid orc whore’s makeup and glitter and full lipstick kisses stamped over my face and neck, which wasn’t as easy as it sounds since the deep red lipstick blended in with my red skin tone, I left the brothel, slidin’ passed the tiefling doorman and heading out into the night. As I was walkin’ up the alley, back the way I had come from, a somewhat chunky elf in a bougie designer suit walked by me, ostensibly headin’ towards the whorehouse I had just recently came from. He looked vaguely familiar and as we walked by each other he looked over briefly and nodded to me, a nod which I returned.
I walked back over to my car and hopped in, noting that it was startin’ to look pretty fuckin’ worn down since I left California, shit, since the train heist really; fuckin’ Mustang was lookin’ like it had been through some shit and then some. As I drove on, my thoughts started drifting to everything that had happened the last couple of weeks, all of it happening so fast.
My finger flicked the radio on, as I needed everything I could to help me relax. Some human voice came on singing that hip hop that a lot of humans were going on about these days, some of which I liked, most of which I couldn't stand, but this human fool had somethin’ to his voice that made me stop by roiling train of thought and just listen: “I grew up on the crime side, the New York Times side. Staying alive was no jive. Had second hands, moms bounced on old men, so then we moved to Shaolin land. A young youth, yo rockin' the gold tooth. 'Lo goose only way, I begin to G off was drug loot... Cash rules everything around me...”
You're fucking right it does, black human rapper. A grin couldn't help but grow on my face, like tree roots spreading. I had a bulge in my pants, but not that kind—it was the money I’d taken from Mikey Delolo. My first fuckin’ piece of action in this city. I’d collected four grand from him already and would be collecting $750 per month. But of course, I’d just blown $700 of it right off the bat. With the bit I’d kept from the liquor store robbery, it brought me close to four large total again. And I still had a bit of the original money I’d brought. All in all, I had $5,000 to my name, give or take a beer. Still, that wouldn't last long.
I took in the city skyline, the City of Brotherly Love with it's bridge and shining river. No, five racks wouldn't last very long. And more than that, as I looked out at all the rising buildings, monuments to ambition and progress, I saw a future for myself. Mikey Delolo and his $750 per month would be just the beginning. Hell, with just a handful of rotten apples like Mikey, I’d be set. And why stop there... guys who really worked up the ranks in this thing of ours, well $750 a month was money they wiped their asses with. The things I could do with that kinda money, real money... The things I could buy for my two girls, hell, my shit-eating little goblin.
My two girls. I caught myself. Fuck, I had to confront it. These two broads, especially Tyzee, had their claws in me, and not just in my pants... but in my chest... in my heart. Something has to be done about it. A tower loomed out from the city as I drove. The logo was recognizable all over the states, bright white, glowing there amid the city lights. The Halus Corporation, helmed by Dalton Sentega. With so much money at its disposal it could buy half the country. Something has to be done about a lot of things.
And then there was Baron’s Street, and my cousin sitting there in our family house, brooding as he stared at the crowned statue of himself. The kobolds chanting about a dragon god coming to cleanse the world with fire, Big Fat Ton raising his little brood in a gangsterized playground, a hidden Drow boss of the entire city pulling strings from the shadows. And all of them after one thing.
“Cash rules everything around me. C.R.E.A.M. Get the money, dollar dollar bill ya’ll!”
You’re damn right, black human. You’re damn right.
From the Author
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Dungeons & Gangsters 2 Page 21
