Trap House (20 page)

Earl, who had just driven for over twenty-seven hours straight, followed orders without
complaint.

* * *

Pony was enjoying the back of Diva’s throat so much that he almost ignored his vibrating phone.
“Oh shit!” he exclaimed, startling Diva off the wood. “Tell me something good, big homie,” Pony
said as he eased Diva’s head back down.

“Eighteen for a whole one,” P.I.G. said warmly, “and it’s that glass.”

“That glass? Eighteen?” Pony repeated, enthused. He made a nice lick off the couple ounces of
whipped dope, but his customers were grumbling.

“Come on,” P.I.G. said urgently.

Diva knew coke talk when she heard it and worked her neck a little harder.

“I’m coming!” Pony yelled to both P.I.G. and Diva.

CHAPTER 17

T
iffany re-counted her stash and could not believe the tally. Even smoking a quarter of an
ounce a day, she still managed to squirrel away $10,000. Her freak show propelled her to
the top spot at the club. It was beyond belief that men paid so much for her to get herself off. She
was now the headliner, the position once held by her housemate.

The spotlight wasn’t the only thing Tiffany stole from Wanda. Mike now took her home three or
four nights a week, while Wanda got none. Oddly enough, Wanda didn’t trip. However, her behavior
became more erratic by the day as her cocaine consumption grew to Blast-like proportions.

Tiffany had set a goal to move once she reached ten stacks. Now that she had achieved it, it was
time to bounce.

Mike had been promising to let her move in with him, but Tiffany couldn’t wait on him. After
she put her money back in the shoebox that doubled as a safe, she set out to Mike’s.

I wonder what this “big favor” is
, Tiffany mused to herself, mocking Mike’s voice. He had
called and told her to drop everything and rush over, and that was exactly what she did, speeding
to get there.

She was now head-over-heels in love with Mike, and she knew he felt the same. He just never
said it, though he was always talking to her about “us” and “our future.”

“Yeah, he love you, girl,” she told her reflection in the elevator as it took her upwards. When
she arrived at his floor, she glided down the hallway and rang the bell.

“Damn, you made it quick,” Mike said in astonishment. He pulled the door open wide and
ushered her inside.

“I told you I’m here for you whenever you need me,” Tiffany told him, meaning every syllable.
“So what’s this big favor?” she asked as they sank onto the plush leather sofa.

For a response, Mike leaned back and pulled out his semi-erect penis.

“My, that IS a big favor!” Tiffany chuckled as she stood to undress.

“Uh huh,” Mike said, pulling her back down. He gently caressed her neck, guiding her head
down toward his growing erection.

“Nooo, babeeey. I told you I don’t do that,” Tiffany cooed. She had refused to go down on
him, no matter how many times he made her cum with his tongue. The firm grip on her neck told
her refusing wasn’t an option anymore. “I don’t even know how to do it,” she said, kissing the
throbbing head. Finding it nowhere near as repulsive as she thought it would be, she kissed it some
more.

“Mmmm, baby. I love you so much,” Mike said, causing her lips to spread. When they did, he
pushed his way inside.

Tiffany had witnessed countless blow jobs at P.I.G.’s and the club, so she mimicked what she
saw. She was soon working her head and hands like an old pro.

Mike slid a hand under her miniskirt and pushed a finger past her panties. They both moaned
loudly as they pleased each other. A few minutes later, they came together. When Mike exploded
in her mouth, he held her head in place, forcing her to take every drop. When he relaxed his grip,
Tiffany took off for the bathroom like she had been shot out of a cannon.

Mike slumped back on the sofa as Tiffany spat, rinsed, gargled, brushed, rinsed, and spat some
more. Five minutes later, she emerged, pouting with her arms folded across her chest.

“So that…was your big favor?” Tiffany asked with far more attitude than she felt.

“Actually, that is a part of it,” Mike replied, pulling her down next to him. “I have a very important
client on the way, and I need to impress him. This is the break we need,” he said urgently.

“What do you need me to do?” Tiffany asked, eager to please.

“Exactly what you did just now,” he responded. “Fuck him, suck him, whatever he wants.”

The doorbell rang just as Tiffany opened her mouth to protest.

“Whatever he wants!” Mike said again before opening the door.

The visitor was a handsome light-skinned guy about Mike’s size and age. The two men greeted
each other warmly with the standard pound and man-hug.

“Tiffany, meet John. John, Tiffany,” Mike said by way of introduction.

“Hey, John,” Tiffany said shyly as John came over to shake her hand.

“Hey, yourself, cutie,” John said eagerly as he took her small hand into his. “Damn, Mike. You
said she was fine, but damn!” John exclaimed.

“Well, if you two will excuse me, I got a quick errand to run. Tiff, keep John comfortable till I
get back,” Mike said on his way out the door.

The door closed before Tiffany had a chance to say anything. Now she was all alone with a
stranger. She hoped John didn’t know what was expected of her.
Maybe I can just kick it with him,
flirt a little till my man come home.

Her hopes were soon dashed as John began to undress.

Not knowing what else to do, Tiffany undressed and let the stranger have his way with her. To
cope with it mentally, Tiffany pretended to be someone else. She was freaking John every which
way but loose. In the hour they were alone, she had done everything sexually that she’d done in her
life. If pleasing him was pleasing Mike, then Mike should have been thoroughly pleased, because
John was spent.

When Tiffany returned from rinsing her mouth out again, John was fully dressed. “Thanks,
babe,” John exclaimed, extending his hand. “That was great.”

Tiffany thought it odd to shake hands after all they had done, but she didn’t want to be rude.
When she took his hand, it was full of cash. She looked at him in confusion but said nothing.

John thanked her again and then disappeared through the door.

Tiffany was still standing there holding the cash when Mike returned minutes later.

“How’d it go?” Mike asked enthusiastically.

“Okay, I guess,” Tiffany replied, still confused as to what just happened. “He gave me money,”
she said, showing Mike the wad of bills.

“Great! Go buy yourself something nice,” he replied. He watched with delight as Tiffany put
the money in her purse, having officially turned her first trick. It would, however, be the last time
she kept the money. “Okay. Well, I got some things to do, so I’ll see you at the club later,” Mike
said dismissively.

Tiffany got the hint that it was time to go, so she did.

As soon as the door closed behind her, Mike whipped out his cell phone and dialed. “John
pleased,” Mike said with a chuckle as his friend Will answered.

“Ooh wee! Nigga, you got a goldmine. Shawty is all that,” Will exclaimed.

“Oh, I know it! Got them old niggas lined up at $2,500 a pop,” Mike gushed.

“Shit! I got off cheap for that $500 I gave her.” Will laughed.

“Yeah, especially since it was my $500,” Mike said, joining the laughter.

CHAPTER 18

W
anda knew her life was spiraling out of control but was powerless to stop it. She had no
brakes, and rock bottom was rushing toward her at 100 miles an hour. The rage inside
her boiled as she thought about her situation. The young girl she had taken in to help out had, in
turn, helped herself to her job and her man. Lately, Mike had been acting as if he hardly knew
her. She’d lost her headliner spot at the club and was reduced to just being one of the dancers. As
the featured performer, Tiffany was pulling in thousands; Wanda, on the other hand, only brought
home hundreds.

Tiffany was now paying all the bills because Wanda smoked away every penny she earned. She
couldn’t give a fuck about a light bill or the cable. To make matters worse, the little ingrate was
even talking about moving out.

A plot took shape in Wanda’s head as she drained the last bit of smoke from her pipe. Before
even exhaling, she sprang into action. She began tossing pillows off the sofa and scattering items
haphazardly around the room. Wanda unhooked the TV and DVD player and placed them by the
door. She then tossed her own room and placed the valuables by the front door as well.

Having no idea when Tiffany might return, Wanda moved quickly in her room. She made a
beeline to the closet and the brand-new Coogi tube dress Tiffany just got. “Gotcha!” Wanda said
to the dress as she plucked it from the stuffed closet. Of course the dress was too small for her, but
she still didn’t want Tiffany to have it. Tiffany had made a big show of the dress when she brought
it home, making sure to show Wanda the $1,500 price tag and let her know that Mike’s money had
paid for it.

Her anger grew as she came across item after item in the closet with tags still attached. She
couldn’t wear any of it, but Tiffany wasn’t going to either if she had anything to say about it.

She couldn’t help but admire Tiffany’s taste in shoes as she dumped them from their boxes.
Wanda had to do a double-take as thousands of dollars fell out of one of the boxes. The thought of
how much dope she could buy caused Wanda to fart loudly. She was laughing and farting as she
stuffed the money in Tiffany’s new Prada purse.

She quickly loaded her car with the stolen loot and pulled off. If she’d taken a right instead of
a left, she would have passed Tiffany heading home. Since left was P.I.G.’s direction, she missed
her.

* * *

Tiffany always felt a little dirty after taking a client, so after the three men she’d serviced that
day, she felt absolutely filthy. She had her heart set on a hot bath and a blast, and not necessarily
in that order.

A sinking feeling came over her as she pulled into the driveway and saw the front door ajar.
“Oh, what now!?” she said aloud, wondering what kind of stunt Wanda had cooked up. Every day
it was something. “Hello?” Tiffany called out cautiously as she pushed open the front door.

She was gripped instantly by panic when she saw the ransacked room. She ran on shaky legs
to check her room and more specifically, her stash. Despite all the clutter, Tiffany’s eyes were
immediately drawn to the shoebox that had once contained her stash. Her legs came out from under
her, causing her to sink to the floor. All her money was gone. All she could do was weep, so that
was what she did.