Into the Lion’s Den

13

A nigga was real upset. I was physically drained, wet, and thirty minutes from any close hotels. After we got back in the car Honey’s ass was out cold. No more textin’ whoever. I made sure she had no room or energy to even think ’bout that bullshit. As I drove to a hotel I actually debated on lookin’ at her damn phone but figured it wasn’t even worth it. She ain’t give me a solid reason yet to doubt her, and if I looked it would make me feel like I was actually sweatin’ her a li’l and wasn’t even about to be on no shit like that.

I pulled my own phone out of the armrest. Eighteen mufuckin’ missed calls and all from Michelle. She even texted me 911 but then went on to cuss me out and say she ain’t need me in the next four texts followin’, only to end by askin’ if I would bring some cereal ’cause Trey ain’t have anything in the house for breakfast. I shook my head tryin’ to figure out what had her so fuckin’ riled up and looked at the clock. It was still early. I could have Honey checked in and situated by ten-fifteen and still have time to head by the club to make sure erebody was actin’ right before goin’ home to see what the hell had Michelle trippin’.

I pulled up outside the club and was happy the parkin’ lot was packed. I always had a spot reserved at the front, but Derrick’s ugly-ass Big Bird mobile was in it. He must have figured I was gonna be tied up all night. It was cool, he was my boy; if it had been anybody else I’d have had they shit towed to the junkyard or set up at the police station and sold at auction before they knew what the fuck happened. I always kept a change of clothes in my office so I went in through the back. I was lookin’ rough from my li’l excursion with Honey and really ain’t want none of the brothas to see me like this. I had a back door built onto my office. In my line of business you never wanna be trapped with no way out. Not too many niggas eva been in my office to know there even was a door. I had a fake wall that looked like the room ended, but if you walked up to it you would see a thirty-inch gap that served as a small hallway to my door. I didn’t use it often, but when I did best believe I made sure no one was around to see.

I couldn’t believe the closest spot I could find was so far in the damn back that it took me nearly five minutes to walk to the club. I was tempted to call Derrick and tell him to move his shit, but figured since he’d been lookin’ out I’d leave him be for once. I could hear Ludacris’s “How Low” basing outside the door as I slid my key into the lock. I loved when Diamond danced to that. Shiiiit, that bitch would make her ass jump with the music and I swear ere nigga, even yours truly, would just stare at her, mesmerized. I was glad Honey wasn’t workin’ tonight. I started to feel a renewed tightening in my pants and hoped Ms. Red showed up. She might actually get a full-blown “interview.” I was feelin’ lazy and tired of doin’ all the work. I wanted to be catered to for a change.

The door quietly opened to my office and I slid into the narrow walkway. God help a nigga, but if I ever got any bigger I would neva be able to use this shit. I started toward my office, but stopped when I heard talkin’ and smelled one of my cognac-preserved cigars bein’ fired up. I held my breath and listened.

“Nah, baby, I’m not upset. I told you I understand, remember? Give me about thirty minutes and I’ll meet you, okay?” After hearing Derrick’s hushed voice I moved in as usual. He was the only mufucka other than me and the contractors who knew that door was there, and he still jumped like he’d seen a ghost when I stepped in.

“Wow, nigga, you scared somebody gonna sneak up on you and take that ass or what?” I was all ready for his comeback, but Derrick really seemed flustered and jumped off the phone. If I was crazy I would actually say he was more surprised to see me than he shoulda been, but I pushed that thought to the side.

“What the fuck, you silent ninja now? Creepin’ up on mufuckas when they tryin’a relax or som’n, nigga?” Derrick dapped me up and stepped back. A grin spread across his face and I already knew he saw the wet stain on the front of my khakis from Honey’s downpour earlier.

“Don’t say nu’n to me, and I won’t ask what broad you was in here on the phone boo-lovin’ wit’, nigga. Shit, you pro’ly jumped ’cause you was tryin’a pull ya dick back in ya pants. I betta not find any damn stains up under my fuckin’ desk or it’s war, nigga.”

Derrick laughed and made his way to the office door. I went into my bathroom, opened my closet, and pulled out some fresh black slacks and a grey and white Dior button-down. I had the bathroom and closet put in ’round the same time I was messin’ with Dee.

Damn. There that girl was, runnin’ ’cross my mind again. There were some nights when I would pull her off the roster for the evening and lock her in here with me. I swear we fucked on ere piece of furniture and ere inch of carpet in this bitch! It was to the point where we would have to wait until the a.m. to leave or bear the shame of niggas and hoes watchin’ us walk out, clothes and hair tore the fuck up from the shit we did to each other. That’s when I’d decided a shower would be a pretty good idea. Even when meetin’s ran long or I had a late night, I could always freshen up.

It didn’t take me long to shower, and I winced when I wiped the mirror to shave and saw my reflection. Times like this made me wish I was a dark mufucka. God blessed me with this silky golden or “light bright” complexion, as Derrick liked to jokingly call it. The last thing I needed when I went home to Michelle was the bright red and purple bite marks on my shoulder. I turned and saw several red lines scratched across my back from Honey’s nails. My baby had a li’l fight in her. I was silently enjoying the thought of other things I might have to try with her while I came up with a reasonable explanation for Michelle.

I checked my phone: no missed calls and only one text from Honey that read, Is daddy comin’ back? Damn, this girl was insatiable. I’d left her in the hotel damn near sleep before the key hit the door and she woke up ready for round two. My thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the office door.

“Enter.” I figured Derrick had sent Annette or one of the other girls to come check on me, so imagine my surprise when I turned and saw li’l Ms. Red with the phat ass from earlier.

“Hey, big sexy, you asked and here I am.”

She spoke slowly with a sensual and kinda deep voice that reminded me of Toni Braxton. It automatically made me wonder if I could make it go higher. I didn’t respond. I raised an eyebrow and watched her walk toward me. She wasn’t shy, she wasn’t awkward. Damn, I had to admit this was a drastic difference from Michelle’s familiarity and Honey’s innocence.

“I guess you already know who I am, and what I do?” I asked every girl this question. A bitch couldn’t fuck with me if she couldn’t understand or accept that I was surrounded by ass and titties nearly all day every day. She narrowed her grey-green eyes and shook her head yes, seductively pullin’ the straps to her dress down her shoulders. I pretended not to pay her any mind, but was in all actuality studyin’ her every move. There was somethin’ ’bout her that seemed familiar. I tried but couldn’t place her face with anyone I’d fucked with or interviewed lately.

This wasn’t new to me. When you have what I had, you get used to women who are willin’ to do whateva the fuck it takes to get your affection, attention, or in other words, your paper. I knew this bitch was no different than all the others and I wasn’t finished testin’ her yet. I was surrounded by pussy, I sold pussy, I owned pussy, so when it came to stickin’ my dick in it—believe it or not, I did get selective. I walked over to my desk and sat behind it. I always kept a bottle of Remy or Henny for rough nights. I poured myself a glass and watched Ms. Red finish undressing.

I can’t lie. She was bad. I looked at a lot of bodies and it’s rare that I saw any without any work done or that were minus the tell-tale signs from havin’ kids. Her body was fuckin’ perfect. Her breasts were full and slightly pointed upward, and I loved bitches with full hips and thighs, and she had it all. I felt myself gettin’ excited as I pictured her spread out on my desk, but I squelched that shit; she ain’t passed all the test yet. Daddy dick ain’t for erebody.

“Come over here. I need to ask you somethin’.” I took a sip from my glass and felt the cognac heat up my throat and chest, and warm my stomach. Ms. Red walked around the side of the desk slowly, eyes focused on mine. Like a huntress. There was no shyness, no nothin’.

“So what type of shit are you into?” I asked. I was eye level with firm, erect nipples and did my damnedest to avoid lowering my gaze toward the soft curve of her waist and bare, perfectly waxed pussy. She didn’t even blink and answered me in that same sultry tone.

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m into you right now and I think you should get undressed so you can get into me.”

If I were a weaker nigga with a green-eyed model-lookin’ beauty standing in front of me naked, this conversation would have never been happenin’, but somethin’ jus’ ain’t seem right with shorty. I couldn’t put my finger on it. I took another sip from my glass.

“You don’t look like you’d have a problem gettin’ any nigga on the street, what makes me such an exception that you in here ready to throw down an ain’t even asked my name?” Exactly what I thought. The bitch ain’t even have the nerve to answer me. When a nigga knows, a nigga knows. I knew exactly why she was here. I explained to her, “I been doin’ this shit for a while and it’s almost like when someone walks into a store and the salesman knows exactly what they’re lookin for.” I reached into my desk and pulled out what I liked to call “pick your poison.” I had everything from cigarettes on up to heroin and coke stashed in a small mahogany box in my desk.

I undid the twenty-four-karat gold clasps on the mahogany case in which I kept every drug addict’s dream. There was an almost immediate change in her demeanor. The calmness was gone, and a sheen of sweat formed on her forehead and upper lip. Damn, this nigga was good. This ho wasn’t nothin’ but a damn fiend. Before I could even get the box completely open, she reached across me and grabbed a Baggie that held a few crack rocks and a pipe. I didn’t bother stoppin’ her. Why waste the energy fightin’ her for a li’l crack? She wasn’t going to do much with that pipe hypnotizin’ her. I’d just let the boys come in and drag her ass out. No point gettin’ my hands dirty behind some crack ho.

I reached under my desk and hit my “nigga, get in here” button. Yep, just like the ones they use at banks to signal a robbery. Michelle had given me that idea. If niggas ever tried to rob me or get stupid, that was Derrick and Big Baby’s cue to get their asses in here. It was rigged to a red light outside my office door. Ms. Red sat cross-legged on the floor right in front of my desk, lightin’ up like she was the only one in the room.

I sat back and waited for my boys to come get her. After a few minutes, I hit the button again. Normally, they would have responded within a few seconds. I kept a .45 in my left-hand desk drawer as well as in the end table closest to the bathroom. I looked at ol’ girl, but could tell she really wasn’t gonna be any more of a threat. She was sittin’ on the floor butt-ass naked, eyes rollin’ back in her head.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Derrick’s number, no answer. I was makin’ my way to the door when I tripped over her clothes. My foot hit somethin’ harder than a dress or a shoe and I bent down and was in complete shock as I picked up a pearl-handled handgun. It was loaded and everything. I stuffed it in my pocket and rushed out into the club.

I saw Derrick before he saw me and noticed the nigga was steady glancin’ at his cell, yet he ain’t answer when I’d just hit his ass. Big Baby was nowhere to be seen so I started to make my way over to Derrick.

I made my way through the maze of bodies. Dancers were tryin’ to make small talk, niggas tryin’ to dap me up. No one was gettin’ outta my way fast enough. I bumped into Annette, declined a drink or whatever the fuck she was tryin’ to offer me, and looked back up to see Derrick approachin’ me.

“Nigga! You ain’t see me hittin’ you? My office. Now!”

I didn’t wait to see if he was followin’ me or not. I marched my ass back to where I’d left ol’ girl. We walked in and I was stupefied; the bitch was gone along with my damn goodie box.