Queen (Mistress & Master of Restraint) (4 page)

“Roman, I need a favor. Mom’s out of pain pills and if I were to guess
, this will be her last refill.” I pointedly look at him, silently saying that mom won’t last until the bottle is empty.

I don’t want to admit it out loud. I feel relief thinking th
at it would be easier when she’s gone, but I dread it too. I wouldn’t change a thing as long as she stayed with me, but she’s in pain and her suffering needs to end. I’m not that selfish.

“I don’t traffic that kind of thing, sweetheart. You know that. I’m sure your mom has a prescription for them.” He says to me in a so
othing voice and I can tell he’s placating me.

“I know,” I say and scrub a hand over my face. “I
t’s not that. I don’t have any money and she’s in horrific pain right now.”

I stomp my Mary-Jane on the ground in frustration. Roman’s laugh turns into a grin. He thinks I’m being cute and it pisses me off. This is life or death- I’m not asking him for a date.

“Are you saying you want to work for it?” He arches a perfect, black eyebrow at me in surprise.

“I’m willing to do anything I need to do to take her pain away,” I plead with him.

“You know I can’t put you on the streets to sell even if you changed your clothes. No one would buy from you. We all know the prissy Regina Regal that goes to Hillbrook and has a fancy scholarship. No fucking way would they buy anything from you, sweetheart.” He leans against the building and folds his arms over his chest bulging the muscles. It’s impressive, but I’m not impressed- well, maybe a little bit.

“I need two-hundred-sixty dollars for a refill. I will do anything you want to get it.” His eyebrow quirks up
again when I say that.

“Anything?”
I shake my head yes. “Follow me,” he says as he pushes from the wall and swaggers away.

I follow him behind the building
to a small door. He leads me down the steps and into the small basement apartment he rents. It’s the same size as mine, but the windows are at the ceiling and he has more furniture. Dealing pays better. He even has a television.

“This will be the most expensive blowjob I’ve ever had and probably the worst. But deflowering your mouth will be worth it. I’ve wanted those
ripe lips on my cock for years,” he says salaciously.

I flinch as he says blowjob. I
’ve never even kissed a guy. I’m thankful though because I thought he’d demand sex. I know how much the girls ask for on the street and it’s nothing in comparison to what I’m getting for a simple blowjob. I don’t want to do it. I wanted to do this with my first boyfriend, but it could be worse. Roman, although a lecherous dealer, has been my friend for a long time. And I will do anything to make my mother’s last moments peaceful.

I drop to my knees in front of Roman
and try to ignore how cold the linoleum is against my bare knees. A slash in the flooring is digging into my skin. My fingers fumble with the zipper at his fly. All of the sudden my fingers feel huge as they try for the tiny bit of metal holding back the bulge in his pants.

My eyes roll up to his just as I find purchase with the zipper. I slowly drag it down and my feelings turn from dread to anticipation. Right now I want to do this for some reason and I want to do it to Roman. I don’t want it to be the most expensive, worst blowjob he’s ever had. I want to do a good job like I do on everything. I want to suck him better than an
yone else has ever sucked him.

His hand draws my attention. He whips out a roll of money from his pocket and peels off
three bills. Around here that’s months’ worth of money, where I spend my days it’s a daily allowance.

“Keep the change,” he says as he hands me three-hundred bucks. I take the money with shaky hands and sh
ove it into the cup of my bra.

My fingers resume their fumbling
at the button on his jeans. Roman’s fingers surround my wrist, so softly I barely feel any pressure. He pulls me to my feet and my knees stick to the dirty linoleum. A popping noise sounds as they break free from the sticky floor. I feel disappointed for some reason as I stand before Roman.

“That’s because you’
re my friend. Don’t ever whore yourself out to anyone, do you understand me? After your mom passes I want you to reach for your dreams. You’re too good for this God forsaken life.” His eyes are filled with tears and I can’t stop mine from leaking out the corner of my eyes and falling down my cheeks. What have I become? I wanted to suck him off and it hadn’t crossed my mind that I was whoring myself out for money. What is wrong with me?
Roman reaches up and wipes my tears of shame away with his rough fingertips.

“Remember me someday when you’re a big-time computer whiz.” He kisses my forehead and pushes me outside. “Better run along, the pharmacy on sixty-eighth and Carmichael closes at five.”
He smiles at me sadly as he tucks his silky, black hair behind his ear.

I rush to the pharmacy and back as quickly as possible. I have to meet Ade’s driver at five outside of my building. I quickly prepare my Mom’s supper. She can barely hold anything down anymore. I bought some groceries with the leftover money Roman gave me after I paid for the
pills. I warm up some beef broth and fix her a grilled-cheese sandwich. I place it on a tray along with a cup of tea laced with honey and lemon, and bakery shortbread cookies.

“Here ya go, Mom.” I place the tray on her lap and hand her two pain pills and a glass of water.
One pill will no longer numb her pain away.

“What did you do to get this money?” She accuses me. I don’t answer her- it’s none of her damned business what I have
to do to make her comfortable.

“I’m going to Ade’
s house for dinner tonight. We’re studying after. Her driver is picking me up and taking me home, so don’t worry if I’m late.” I rub her bony thigh as I speak. It feels like massaging a stick through a blanket, but I can tell the contact makes her feel better. I try to ignore the sensation that leaves me queasy.

I sit with her while she slowly eats her meal and
we chat about everything that’s going on at school. This is our routine. We used to do it at our kitchen table, now we do it while she rests in bed.

I clean up after supper and tell my mother goodnight. I run down the three fl
ights of steps knowing that I’ll be late. I burst out the front door slamming it against the outside wall. I avoid the rebound. A black Town Car idles at the curb with Roman interrogating the driver.

“Miss Regal,” the kind man in his late
forties says to me. I’ve rode around with him for the past four years. I’ve never met the Whittenhower family, but their driver I know well.

“Hello, Albert. Sorry to make you drive all the way over here
just to pick me up. Adelaide always gets what she wants- you know that better than anyone.” We share a conspiratorial smile.
“Here,” I say to Roman as I hand him four sandwiches and a few shortbreads. He stares at me in amazement.

I can tell that he thought I should be angry at him for what he did to me in his apartment. I know he was trying to teach me a lesson on how easily we can stoop to get what we need. I understand why he sells drugs to survive. I don’t judge. I always thought myself above it al
l, though. I was wrong, even I’m willing to whore myself out to survive. He knocked me off my pedestal and showed me the error of my ways with kindness. I can’t be angry at him for it. 

“I seem
to have extra this evening after my good fortune. Thanks, Roman, Mom is sleeping peacefully because of you. I will never forget your act of kindness,” I vow.

I kiss him on the cheek in thanks and he jolts as if I’ve electrocuted him. He flashes me a goofy grin that I haven’t seen grace his face since he was a small boy. I kiss him on the other cheek from the pleasure of seeing the real Roman filter through his tough image.
I allow a brief touch of his shiny hair. I’ve always wanted to know what it felt like. His hair has always fascinated me because it is so unlike my wiry mass. It is even softer than I imagined.

“This is your future, Sweetheart,” he says with the sweep of his hand towards the expensive car. “Don’t let anyone take that from you- anyone.”

I give him a shy smile as Albert helps me into the car. The door cuts off my sight of his face. By the time the driver moves, Roman is already walking away.  I can tell by his movements that he’s eating my sandwiches. I smile to myself and enjoy the smooth ride.

Chapter Three

One of the wooden double-doors to the imposing stone mansion flies open and makes me jump. The brightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen peek out at me. The small towheaded boy smiles until a dimple dents his tiny cheek.

“Are
n’t you the cutest thing I have ever seen?” I smile down at him. It’s unavoidable when you look at him. He’s like sunshine.

“My name is Daniel
Whittenhower, just like my Dad. Everyone calls me Whitt,” he smiles.

The tiny hand is held out for a shake.
He’s a polite little boy. I shake his hand and he tightens his grip on me. He’s strong too, but not as strong as a six-foot tall woman. I smile when he pouts for not getting a reaction out of me.

“
My name’s Regina Regal,” I say just as formally as the miniature man.

“Do you have a nickname?” His
voice pitches with excitement.

“No one ha
s ever given me one.” I shrug.

“Ca
n I call you Queen from now on?” He asks and tugs on my hand pulling me inside. I give him a confused look in return.

“Both your names mean Queen. I just learned about how Regina means queen in some language. I can’t remember which.”
He scrunches his eyes together just as Ade does when she’s concentrating or confused. He looks at me so seriously that I know he isn’t joking.

“How do you know this stuff already? I thought you were
only five,” I say to Whitt. Ade talks about him all the time. She thinks he’s annoying. This is one more thing I will disagree with her on. He’s a lovely boy.

“Doesn’t everyone learn this stuff?” He looks at me as if I’m from another planet. I guess
I am- planet reality. I forgot for a moment that they have their own community and don’t venture out to learn about anything else.

“Okay, from now on my nickname is
officially Queen,” I say to the boy. He smiles widely showing off his set of dimples and a missing front tooth. His eyes shine conspiratorially at me and as cute as it is, it kind of creeps me out. What does he know that I need to know?

He grabs my hand tighter and pulls. He do
esn’t speak, but by the way he’s yanking on my hand I guess he’s going to show me instead. 

Whitt tugs me along a
museum-quality furnished hallway. I missed the foyer and now the hall because the tiny man is pulling me briskly towards somewhere. He abruptly stops next to a slightly open door and I nearly collide with him.

He puts a finger to his lips and smiles showing his dimple. His eyes glow
with a devious light as we eavesdrop on his family.

A chill runs through my body and I break out with goosebumps. I’m swept over by a premonition. I don’t like the feeling of t
his house.

Whitt gazes up at me
pleading me to listen. My hand finds the mahogany-paneled wall and my fingers tighten over the molding. I have to hold myself in place or I’d run from Whittenhower Estates. The small, but strong, hand grips tighter, either for support or he’s making sure I don’t make a run for it.

“Grant
, you have to do something about Cora. You can’t divorce her. That would be too much of a spectacle.” An older gentleman says in concern. I look to Whitt to see if he will tell me who’s speaking. He mouths
My Father
.

“We got the results back th
is morning. It’s bad news. She’s completely barren.” A sad, soft voice says. The sound flashes through my body and reverberates down my arm to Whitt’s tiny hand. He smiles up at me like I pulled a neat trick- creepy. I don’t look to Whitt to figure out who’s speaking. I know who Grant is from Ade talking of him constantly with an affection that is borderline hero-worship. He’s Ade’s older brother who just turned twenty-three.  Who also failed to place an order with “Daddy” on his marital choices- Fucking weirdoes.

“W
e will come up with something, Son. You’re my last hope. Even at five I know what my namesake will grow up to be. The signs are obvious. Your sisters are women, so they cannot carry on the Whittenhower name. It’s up to you.”
I look to Whitt to see if he caught that his father was putting him down. He catches my eye and shrugs his sloping shoulders.