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Authors: Treasure Hernandez

Working Girls (13 page)

BOOK: Working Girls
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Chapter Eighteen
H
alleigh's eyes darted frantically around the room as she tried to gather her bearings. She felt like she was dying. Her body hurt so badly, and no matter what she did, nothing eased the pain. She couldn't believe that her life had gotten so bad in such a short period of time, and she was ashamed of herself for losing control. All of those years she'd watched her mother's condition deteriorate because of drugs. Now she was following in her footsteps. What would Malek think if he saw her now?
Halleigh's body shook violently as the draft in the room sent cold shivers up her spine. She was freezing, and nothing she did could warm her body. She broke out in constant cold sweats as she squirmed and wrapped herself with the covers on the bed. The slightest touch hurt her skin, and she felt like the sun was burning out her eyes every time she attempted to open them.
She'd been trying to kick her habit for weeks, and it just didn't seem to be working. The only time she could ever seem to pull herself together was when Tasha warned her that Manolo might be dropping by. Of course, Tasha always told him that Halleigh was with a john, but how much longer would that little stunt of theirs work before he started getting suspicious?
Just last week, when Manolo dropped by the hotel to check things out, Tasha was sure her little plan was about to be discovered. It was the motel keeper who almost made the plan backfire. The skinny, gray-haired man, his skin the color of coffee with a hint of cream, said to Manolo when he saw him entering the motel and heading over to the elevators, “Business picking up, I see.”
Manolo simply nodded. He wasn't into talking about his business with strangers. As far as he was concerned, old dude could have recently been bought by the feds to try to trap him, or something. But on second thought, Manolo knew that if anything was in the works, his hired cop, Troy, would have tipped him off. After all, that's why Troy got his pick of the litter of free pussy from the Manolo Mamis, plus a little green on the side.
Right before the elevator door opened to welcome Manolo's presence, the motel keeper added, “Yeah, when your girl came down a few weeks ago and added another room to your already-set block of five, I knew things must be picking up for you.”
Manolo had already gotten inside the elevator and the doors were about to close, but hearing the man's last comment, he held his hand out, stopping the doors. “What did you say?” Manolo inquired. “Another room?”
“Well, yeah,” the clerk said with a tone and expression on his face that said maybe he had spoken on something that he shouldn't have. “You, uh, have the six rooms now, right?”
When Manolo's facial expression clearly showed that he knew nothing about adding another room to their block of five, the clerk tried to clean things up. After all, he didn't want to mess up his money by spilling the beans on something he shouldn't have. “Maybe I made a mistake.”
“Nah,” Manolo said. “You don't look like the type of fella who makes mistakes. But just to be sure, why don't you double-check your records?”
“Uh, well, uh, yes, sir,” the man stammered as he shuffled through some paperwork and receipts. After resting on one piece of paper in particular, he held it up and said, “You're right. I didn't make a mistake. Six rooms as of last month.”
Fire shot out of Manolo's nostrils as he snatched the paper from the man and read the receipt that showed Tasha had been paying for an extra room. What the fuck is going on, and why is my money being spent on shit without my prior consent?
He had agreed with Tasha as far as paying for the rooms twenty-four/seven, but she hadn't said anything about adding an extra room to the block. Tasha, he was sure, never made mistakes. That's why she held the rank with him that she did. So he was almost one hundred percent certain that this wasn't an oversight on her part, but deliberate deception instead. But why? Why would Tasha decide to play him after all these years? Not once was the money ever short. She'd never beat him for one red cent, and now here she was trying to do something extra on the side without his knowledge. He expected this type of thing from Mimi, but not Tasha.
Is she trying to start up her own thing on the side, steal my business?
If she was, she wouldn't have been the first. The madam Manolo had before Tasha tried to pull that exact same stunt. All the while she was supposed to be minding the Manolo Mami business, she was minding her own on the side, forming a prostitution ring so that once she slipped out from under Manolo, she would already have her own thing set up.
Of course, that didn't sit too well with Manolo, and unfortunately for her—but fortunate for Tasha—the woman went missing right on time for Tasha to take her spot in Manolo's ring. But if Tasha called herself doing the same thing, who would he get to replace her when she went missing?
With the paper in hand, Manolo turned back toward the elevator with every intention of going to confront Tasha with this newfound information. But as he stood there waiting on the elevator, he had a second thought. He wouldn't outright confront her just yet. Instead, he would test her and watch her, to see if anything seemed out of the ordinary with her. He didn't want to believe that Tasha would try to double-cross him. Hell, even Tina Turner stuck it out with Ike, and Manolo treated Tasha way better than Ike treated Tina. But if he'd learned anything about putting his trust in someone, it was not to—no exceptions.
Manolo simply folded the paper, placed it in his pocket and got on the elevator, heading up to check in with Tasha, to make sure it was business as usual. And for her sake, it better be.
Tasha had just returned from trickin' with a john when Manolo entered the hotel room. “Oh shit!” she exclaimed.
“What's the matter, baby girl? Did I scare you?” Manolo walked over to her, grabbed her by the back of her hair, and stared her in the eyes.
She tried her best not to tremble. “What?” she asked Manolo, wondering why he was just standing there looking down at her like she'd stolen something from him.
Manolo didn't speak. He just tightened his grip and then proceeded to ram his tongue down her throat.
Tasha wanted to throw up. Manolo's touch used to reassure her of her role in his life, but now it only sickened her. Besides, if he only knew what she'd just done with that tongue of hers, he'd reconsider sticking his in her mouth.
After tonguing Tasha down for a few seconds, Manolo pulled her away from him and stared in her eyes again.
“What, Daddy? What is it?”
Manolo just stood there searching her eyes. Usually, if someone was deceiving him, their eyes were a dead giveaway, but when he looked at Tasha, he saw the same thing that he always saw in her eyes—loyalty. “Nothing,” Manolo finally replied. “I just missed you, is all.”
Tasha relaxed a little. For a minute there, she was afraid that Manolo might have heard something about her from the street. But she showed no fear as she maintained her composure. “I missed you too.” Tasha pulled away from Manolo and headed toward the bathroom.
“Where you going?” Manolo looked her up and down. He noticed that she was a little bit more dressed up than usual.
“Uh, just to the bathroom. I just got back from walking to the store. I didn't know you were stopping by.”
“Well, aren't you a little overdressed for the store?”
“You know when I step out I always gotta do it right. After all, I'm a walking advertisement for the Manolo Mamis. Niggas see me, and like stray little puppies, they wanna follow me home. And home is where the money is,” Tasha said, thinking quick on her feet.
She walked back over toward Manolo and said seductively, “Anyway, like I was saying, I didn't know you were stopping by. Otherwise, I wouldn't have gotten myself all sweaty and stuff down there. I would have kept it crisp for you.” She ran her fingers across Manolo's lips. “You know, with me running this spot twenty-four hours now, I never get to see you as often, and a girl has needs too, Daddy. And I know you ain't gon' leave me hanging. You gotta hit me off with a little something because God knows when I'll get the chance to be alone with you again.”
Manolo closed his eyes and moaned as Tasha cupped his manhood and began to massage it.
“Oh shit, baby. You know Daddy wouldn't do you like that.”
“Good.” Tasha backed away from him slowly and sensually toward the bathroom. “Then you stay right there. Promise me you won't leave me, Daddy,” Tasha begged.
“Promise.” Manolo watched her disappear behind the bathroom door. “Mm-mm-mm,” he said to himself. He began to undress, and reasonable doubt regarding Tasha's loyalty to him slowly began to vacate his mind. Maybe business was booming, and she had to get an extra room and just didn't worry about telling me, since it's not going to be a regular thing. Yeah, that's probably it.
Manolo lay down on the bed, caressing his manhood and waiting on Daddy's favorite little girl to come please him. Hell, even if she's up to no good after all, I don't see no reason why I can't get one last fuck-and-suck before I see to it that she or anyone who decides to jump camp with her, like Toni Braxton said, never breathes again.
Chapter Nineteen
A
s Halleigh lay there in pain, she didn't know what to do. “God, help me,” she moaned, grabbing her stomach. She lifted herself up and tried to crawl out of the hotel bed, but ended up landing on her knees beside the bed. She remained in that spot as if her knees were magnetized to the floor.
A few weeks ago, after convincing Manolo to allow the girls to run business twenty-four/seven in the motel, Tasha had gone down and paid the clerk for an extra room to house Halleigh. She didn't want any of the other girls getting wind that Halleigh wasn't putting in any work at all. That alone would've given them cause to run back and start complaining to Manolo. So Tasha just got Halleigh her own room, away from the ones where the other girls tricked, so that she could get better.
Tasha even used her own money to pay for the room. In all the years she'd dealt with Manolo, she'd never burned him when it came to “the ends.” And even though she was starting to hate the ground he walked on, she still wasn't about to start spending his money without his say. That would have sent up a red flag. Then what excuse would she have given him? Instead, she turned an extra trick when she could, just to cover the cost of the additional room she'd added to their tab.
“God help me!” Halleigh cried out once again, gripping her stomach in agony. That's when the irony of it all hit. She was exactly where God probably wanted her to be in order for Him to get her to call out to Him: on her knees.
In all of the mess she had been in since the night of the rape, she had not once gone to God and asked Him for help. She went to Malek, Mimi, Manolo. And, regretfully, she'd gone to Scratch. But not once did she just go to the one who was in charge of everything and ask Him to show her the right way to go about life.
As Halleigh began to call out to God with her last breath, it seemed, she only hoped it wasn't too late. But figuring that she didn't have anything to lose since she had given up everything, right down to her soul, she began to pray. Hopefully she could convince God to talk to Satan and order him to give her back her soul.
Halleigh folded her hands and leaned over the bed. Every movement ached her healing bones. For all of those days in that hotel room with the television on, she remembered hearing some televangelist speak about the power of prayer, but had never partaken in it herself. She was willing to try anything now to take the pain away, though. Since all else failed, perhaps prayer wouldn't.
The pressure on her knees was too much to take. She fell down on her side and began to cry. She figured that she didn't have to be on her knees in order for God to hear her, so she let the tears come as she put her hands up to her face.
God, please help me. I know that you shouldn't, and I am probably not worth saving, but haven't I suffered enough? You blessed my life when You brought Malek into it. Before him, I didn't know love. I would have never imagined knowing another person better than I know myself. You already know how my mother gets down, so I don't have to go into that whole situation, and I'm not looking for a pity party, because I know that I did this to myself. Life just hurts so bad, God. It hurts. Malek doesn't want me anymore. He won't even see me. He was my everything, God, my reason for breathing. What did I do to deserve losing him?
I don't know if I can handle life without him. That's why I'm lying here on this floor with a drug-infested body. I poisoned myself trying to soothe my heart, shooting dope, free-basing. I did whatever I had to do to forget about Malek and the life I'm living. I'm killing myself slowly, but I know that I'm wrong. But I can't fix it by myself. It hurts so bad. My body hurts all day. It feels like I can't breathe.
I'm begging You, God, to take this burden away from me. I can't handle it. I'm not strong enough. I know I've never come to You before. I don't go to church every Sunday like some of the other people who call on You might, but I do believe that You can save me. If I am Your child, why does my life hurt so badly? Why me? Please save me from this because I don't think I'm strong enough to do this without Your support. I don't want to do this to myself anymore. I'm dying.
Halleigh became too weak to even think. Her prayer stopped short as her eyes became too heavy for her to keep them open. Her arms fell to her sides as she just lay there.
Tasha entered the hotel room and saw Halleigh sprawled out on the floor near the bed. “Oh God!” She dropped her purse and ran over to Halleigh. “God, please don't let her be dead. Please don't let her be dead.”
Tasha made it over to Halleigh, got on her knees, and grabbed her wrist to check for a pulse. She then placed her ear against Halleigh's nose, trying to see if she could feel any life coming out of her, something she'd seen on television before.
Halleigh coughed.
“Oh Jesus!” Tasha said with a sigh of relief. “Hal, why are you laying out on the floor like this?” Tasha sat beside her on the floor and rubbed her hair softly.
Halleigh opened her eyes and replied, “No, Tasha, don't touch me. It hurts.” She was too fatigued to even cry. Tears just drained from her eyes and rolled down the side of her face. “It just hurts so bad,” she whispered.
“I know, I know, Hal. I'm so sorry for this. I know that this ain't for you. This isn't for anybody. You don't deserve this. I don't deserve this. I'm going to get us out of here. Just let me come up with a plan. I just need to think of a way to get us away from Manolo safely. Just hang in there. Give me time. I swear, I'm going to find a way out.”
“I thought you said there is no way out,” Halleigh replied, feeding Tasha's own words back to her.
“I'll find a way, Halleigh. I'll find a way,” Tasha muttered as she tried to think of a possible escape plan for them. She pulled a cover and two pillows off the bed and lay right beside Halleigh. She snuggled close to her, wrapped her arms around her, and let the tears fall without shame.
It had been so long since she had cried. She'd trained herself not to be emotional from the day she turned her first trick. She didn't want anyone to think she was weak or that she could be easily manipulated, so she told herself that crying was a sure way to lose control over her own life. Now she felt weak, trapped underneath Manolo's selfish reign, and all she really felt like doing was crying.
As Tasha lay next to Halleigh, she cried for all of the times that she'd let strange men have her body. For all of the souls of the girls she'd helped Manolo lure in. For her parents, whom she knew she'd hurt when she started tricking. And for Loita. When Loita died, she didn't even cry then, so she was crying for her now too.
She released her entire life's heartache while she lay next to Halleigh, and she felt a closeness with her now more than ever before. Tasha knew that it was time for her to get strong—on her own. She didn't want to feel powerful by preying on the weakness of others, but she wanted to empower both herself and Halleigh so that they could live the life that they deserved.
God surely must have taken these two women to the bottom this day, to a point where they both realized that they had nowhere to go to and no one to go to but Him. It seemed that prayer was moving in Tasha's heart that day as well, because she asked God for the strength she needed to get them out of their current situation, and to give her a better direction in life.
BOOK: Working Girls
10.68Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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