Brooklyn Brothel Read online

  “What do I owe the honor?” I finally asked her, lookin’ downward.

  “The honor? I’m here to work. Tony called, said he needed to make big money this week. So I’m here.”

  I quickly jerked my neck backwards. What the fuck did she just say? I asked myself. The sound of she and Tony talkin’ disgusted me. I rolled my eyes, opened my office door fully, allowin’ her to enter, then quickly turned my back. There was nothin’ left to do but rush ova to my desk where I felt most comfortable, with my drugs.

  “So, you saying Tony called you? I’m not really sure, why,” I added nastily.

  “I…”

  She tried to respond but I cut the bitch off… “Whatever,” I told’er.

  My fist banged against the desk shufflin’ the remainin’ coke a bit. I guess the drugs had me trippin’ ’cause jealously invaded my body. Sasha was on her game, so it wouldn’t have surprised me if Tony had bought the new diamond bracelet she now flaunted in my face. I tried to turn my attention elsewhere, switchin’ my focus to the loud, annoyin’ sound blarin’ from the phone. I picked it up, hit myself in the forehead, and slammed it onto the receiver. The fuckers had hung up on me!

  Next thing I knew, Sasha had invited herself to sit in the chair in front of my desk. Her grin screamed wicked! I wanted to throw a tantrum, curse her out, and kick her ass out the front door, but instead I grabbed a cigar to remind her of the symbolic reason why Betty smoked cigars. I wanted her to know I was gettin’ paid, a bonafide madam, and she-just a hoe.

  I lit my shit, blew out the match, and sent a gust of smoke in her direction purposely. While she sat waitin’ for me to make the next move, I simply stared her down and kept smokin’. Suddenly, crazy visions of her suckin’ Tony off in some lavish hotel infiltrated my mind. Then it switched to visions of Sasha and Tony at Betty’s, where he licked her like a temptin’ lollipop. I stopped abruptly, tried to clear my head from all the wild thoughts. I just couldn’t help myself. Sasha was bad news and I knew it. She sat twirlin’ that fuckin’ bracelet on purpose.

  “You fuckin’ Tony?” I finally blurted out.

  “What kinda question is that?”

  “The kinda question that needs to be answered!” I stood up hopin’ to challenge Sasha. “I wanna know if you kept in touch with Tony? And how? How did he manage to just call you outta the blue?”

  Sasha surprised me. She stood up, too.

  “I’ve always had his number, and he had mine.” Her hands moved onto her hips like she wanted to show me a thing or two. “He’s got all the girl’s phone numbers that used to work at Betty’s…and most of them have his.” She grinned wickedly. “What? You thought you were special?”

  “Fuck you, Sasha! And fuck Tony too!”

  “Oh, I have! Many times at Betty’s,” she smirked, “and at his spot in City Island.” She continued, “Oh…and let me not forget, at the house in Jersey.”

  Sasha coulda bought my soul for a buck. I felt extra small. His house? Where his soon to be ex-wife lived? I remained in a daze for nearly two minutes straight.

  “But let’s get this straight,” Sasha interrupted… “because I don’t want no bullshit to interfere with my money while I’m here. I’m here to work and don’t give a fuck about Tony. He’s a businessman, in case you didn’t get the memo. He owns a string of businesses, and this is just one. I happen to like his style,” she proudly proclaimed. “’cause I’m about business, too.” She pointed to herself makin’ her finger abruptly stop at her chest. “You’re not his number one. I know that for sure. You woulda been better off with me, where the Chardonnay never runs dry!” She ended with a confident frown.

  The bitch had hit my last nerve and her arrogance soared to a new level. I was positive Sasha would bring in money, more money for me to leave with once I decided to leave Brooklyn. So I figured I’d let the bitch stay. The last two days had been sweet as far as finances were concerned. The thought of the ten thousand we made in two days instantly put a smile on my face. The girls seemed to meet my quota’s each day, with Angel at the top of the list. She’d already proven to be a cash cow in just that short period of time. She’d pulled in big money for the brothel since she showed up and hadn’t given me any problems yet, so adding Sasha to the flock wouldn’t hurt.

  I held one side of my nostril and snorted like a hungry elephant, even though Sasha stared me down like I was crazy. After givin’ a quick exhale, I raised my head, then waved her off like I was swattin’ a fly. She moved slowly, unable to hide the fact that she was shocked by my behavior.

  “Go to the top of the stairs and take any open bed!” I ordered.

  “Where?”

  “You’ll figure it out,” I told her. “Just get the hell outta my face!” I pointed to the door without even lookin’ her way, and neva even considered doin’ anything more. Sasha wasn’t even worthy of my gettin’ up from my desk or screamin’ for Cinnamon. I had three more lines of coke to finish before I dealt with any bitches for the day. Besides, it was too early, I’d convinced myself.

  I could tell Sasha was pissed, but didn’t give a fuck. She stormed off and I rushed behind her to lock my damn door. All kinds of shit ran through my mind as I made my way back toward my desk. But before I could sit down, my eyes darted toward the street. A few cars whisked by but the black Escalade with the deep tint caught my attention. I blinked, hopin’ like hell I was hallucinatin’. As soon as I got a clear view, it became obvious what was going down. My eyes bulged while I contemplated my next move.

  They looked Italian, mob like, none like I’d neva seen before. I counted four from where I stood, and prayed there were no more. They were all dressed in sweat gear, jeans, and casual attire, dressed as if they’d showed up to handle some dirty deeds. The tallest of them all reminded me of Gino in the face. His hair was cut like a bowl and he walked with a ruthless swagger. My mind raced. Why were they here? Was I ’bout to get another ass whippin’? Or were they comin’ to get free pussy from my girls? Then it dawned on me, maybe they were comin’ to collect money? Tony had already warned me.

  Luckily, Cinnamon had already moved my portion of the money to the kitchen. She’d convinced me against my will to put the money inside the large bottom portion of an imported vase, where she said the girls would neva find it. So my cash was safe as far I was concerned. If Tony couldn’t handle his business, it would be his shit that got taken, not mine.

  I dropped low to the floor hopin’ none of them hadn’t seen me through the window. The first guy who walked with a quick stride, had already reached the stairs and the othas strolled quickly behind. Once I’d stooped as low as my cracking knees would allow, I jetted ova to the safe and pulled out the 9mm. It was the only thing that would save me if things got ugly.

  A part of me wanted to shout Cinnamon’s name, partially to warn her about the visitors outside, yet more importantly to instruct her not to answer the door. I stayed low, runnin’ rampant throughout the house. I could hear the office phone ringin’, yet it neva even registered that it was a phone.

  Before long, I heard Cinnamon at the top of stairs rushin’ to answer the ringin’ doorbell. While she hummed an unknown tune, I whisked like an FBI agent from one room to another tryin’ to check out the best location to hide. I ended up behind the hall closet in the foyer which had given me the most discreet view of the front door. I kept hissin’ tryna catch Cinnamon before she made it half way down the staircase. She finally heard me, stopped in her tracks, and gave me a weird stare. I shot her a crazy hiss and placed my forefinger ova my lips lettin’ her know not to talk. Her face showed me that she thought it was strange by the way I kept swattin’ her back up the stairs with my hand. I could tell she thought I was high by the way she smacked her lips, and turned with an attitude to head back up the stairs. She shook her head givin’ me a pitiful stare and disappeared to the top level just as the frightenin’ sounds increased outside the front door.

  The first knock sent me into a frenzy. Then knock after knock
, the thumpin’ became more and more persistent. But I neva flinched. It was important to be a trooper. After all, wasn’t I in charge of the house? I questioned myself. My body sat nervously behind the door, outta sight, yet in position for the perfect view to the front door. I watched and waited as three of the men talked to each otha in muffled voices and shook the door knob profusely. My heart thumped, but I neva moved, prayin’ that they wouldn’t be able to get in.

  Before I could blink, the noise of the shakin’ knob grew louder. They were determined to get inside. I wasn’t sure if they were using a credit card, a jimmy, or whatever the fuck, but they were tryin’ their damness to get into my spot. I counted to myself, then prayed, then counted again. Then the phone started ringin’ like crazy, almost as if the caller knew I was in the house. My eyes darted from the direction of the ringin’ phone back to the door. Then from the door to my office. I snapped back. I knew I had to put the sounds of the phone outta my mind and concentrate on the shakin’ door. My breathing deepened. Then my head titled backward in anguish just about the same time that the front door flung open.

  I thought for sure I’d had a heart attack when my body jumped without my permission from my hidin’ spot. I stood wide-eyed, like an easy target in the middle of the foyer. It was sad to say that a Madam had the deer caught in headlights look. My hands were behind my back with my finger on the muthufuckin trigger. I felt like Rambo as the thought of killin’ them all bounced around in my head. I’d been to jail once and neva planned on going back, but the drugs had me thinkin’ my plans had changed.

  “What the fuck you got behind your back?” the tallest guy shouted.

  He pointed at me, tippin’ his boys off to the position of my hands. I figured they all knew what was up from my suspicious stance. I eyed them all standin’ in a cluster just a few feet away from the front door.

  “Who are you?” I replied. “And what do you want?” I pretended to be calm, while focusin’ on the tallest guy. It seemed like he was the one in charge. His no-nonsense expression combined with the otha three men lookin’ to him for answers assured me my assumption was correct.

  “I ask the questions,” he responded, takin’ a step toward me. “I’ll give you one more fuckin’ shot! What’s behind your back?”

  The smallest guy with a long, nasty scar just below his chin took a step in my direction, too.

  I thought to myself, oh shit! Then breathed again. I gripped the gun tighter as I felt the perspiration from my hands increase. Next thing I knew, a guy with ten pounds of gold around his neck, and super starched jeans gave me a sharp warnin’.

  “fuckin’ moulie, put your hands where we can see them! Now!” he shouted.

  “The bitch wanna be a ganster, Raul,” the shorter guy yelled out.

  “Why the fuck you say my name? Asshole!”

  Even though I had them arguin’ and knew at least one of their names, I gave’em what he wanted. I took the gun from behind my back in two quick seconds and pointed.

  “I’ll give you to three,” I warned. My voice was deep, strong, and lacked any tremble. “If you fuckers aren’t outta here, I’m shootin’!”

  The room fell silent. My heart thumped. Then, outta the blue, it sounded. Gunfire. Pop! Pop! Pop!

  Chapter 19

  Thirty seconds of complete silence had passed, and I still found myself in the middle of the floor, frozen-my gun taken, snatched from my grip. Tony’s goons or the unknown members of his Mafia family had me right where they wanted me. I was surrounded, held captive. Any way I tried to run, they were just two arm lengths away. Unfortunately for me, one guy was directly up on me. I still wasn’t sure what the fuck they wanted. Somehow they’d managed to take my gun, after I had shot into thin air by mistake; and had one of their own pressed into my side. I was certain it had claimed bodies. Strangely, the coldness of the weapon had me drippin’ with sweat. Surely, their bullets would rip right through me if I decided to make a move. The gun couldn’t be seen ’cause my eyes were glued straight ahead to the wall… but it felt hard and heavy, and scared me to death.

  I wasn’t sure whether to raise my hands above my head as a sign of surrender, or keep them lowered and close to my side. Nothing seemed very clear to me… not even why they were at the house. What was I bein’ held at gunpoint for? I’d done nothin’. The men were talkin’ back and forth to each otha as if they had no clue how to handle me.

  “Call it in,” the head guy uttered.

  Call in what? I wondered. But then my attention became focused on the chainsaw tattoo embedded in the tall guy’s neck.

  They started pickin’ up cell phones and dialin’ out. I kept feelin’ like I was caught up in some Mafia movie shit. Then, I heard the guy with all the gold around his neck call the short guy with the scar, Paulie. All of a sudden they got to fussin’ again about droppin’ names. For me, I needed the name of the tall guy who I perceived to be in charge. He seemed to be the one who could make the nightmare stop, and tell me what they were after. I couldn’t get his attention with my stare because his face was all bawled up at the guy who was name droppin’. It surprised me how red he turned.

  “You still saying fuckin’ names? You lil’ fuck!” he shouted toward his boy. “Why the fuck would you call out names? That’s it! No more talking!”

  The guy with the gold was obviously low on the totem pole. Stupid, too. He said nothin’ and looked as if he’d been embarrassed many times before. I remained dumb-founded just scannin’ the room, notin’ every detail.

  He then shrugged his shoulders toward the quiet guy with the rounded obese shape and bald-head who was holdin’ the gun to my side. He neva said much but his body odor said it all. It was a sickenin’ smell and matched his filthy appearance. Besides the fact that he towered ova me, only his sloppy size kept me from kickin’ him in the nuts, and takin’ a chance on a break-away.

  While he kept me hostage, still in the middle of the floor, I remained wide-eyed with my ears opened tryna take in as much as I could, and contemplatin’ when to make a move.

  Paulie started shoutin’ back and forth askin’, “Did someone call the girl?” I kept thinkin’ what girl…Who were they talkin’ about?

  Paulie paced the floor, wiped his sweaty forehead with a hankerchief, then made a few phone calls. Ironically, the phone rang in the office again just as I watched him make his calls. I ignored the ringin’ sound and kept my focus on Paulie. He continuously talked about the girl to the otha guys. They neva came out with a name, but ranted on for several minutes, passin’ the blame until the solution to their problem walked into the room. When the sound of Cinnamon’s foot hit the bottom step, I swiveled my neck slightly, in slow motion to catch a glimpse of her from the corner of my eye. For once, she had a solemn look spread across her face.

  I couldn’t put it all together, but she seemed to have no fear. She wasn’t smilin’, upbeat, or behavin’ like the Cinnamon I knew, yet she moved comfortably as if she knew the men wouldn’t bother her. I could see a black duffle bag thrown across her shoulder, and a plastic bag in her hand. I was so used to callin’ out her name when I needed her that my reflexes wanted to yell out to her. When she stopped just three feet behind me, Paulie asked her somethin’ that I missed, then approached her.

  He dabbed at his forehead again. “What took you so long,” he asked. “Tony said he talked to you thirty minutes ago.”

  The anticipation had me hyped. I couldn’t wait to hear her response. To my disappointment, she didn’t answer, simply passed him the plastic bag.

  “What the fuck you looking so sad for?” Paulie asked, while openin’ the bag.

  “That’s not important. I did my part.” She frowned.

  “Yeah. And you got paid for it, too,” he chuckled. “Did you hear us fuckin’ calling you?”

  “That’s not important either. I answered didn’t I?”

  There was a slight pause. Nobody said anything. Then, I heard Cinnamon’s heels again.

  “The girls are
locked in the great room upstairs. They have no idea you’re even here,” she ended. “But I’m sure as time goes by, they’ll think it’s strange if Co-Co doesn’t show her face upstairs.”

  Cinnamon passed off what looked to be a key and took a few steps forward attemptin’ to walk pass me. I could no longer resist. “Cinnamon!” I called out.

  She stopped to the side of me, turned, and looked in my direction. Her head tilted toward her chin. I just couldn’t get her to look me in the eye. When I noticed her teary eyes and guilt ridden face, my focus switched to her duffle bag, then the cell phone in her hand. It was at that point, I knew she was leavin’. She didn’t seem surprised that the men had me surrounded, nor that there was a gun jabbed in my side. My face tightened as I spoke to her. “So you gonna leave me like this!” I shouted as hurt filled my body.

  She clicked her heels and walked toward the door neva even lookin’ back. Here I was, obviously in danger and my girl was walkin’ out on me. I knew the bitch wasn’t even gonna call the police.

  “What the fuck?” I screamed, then stomped my foot onto the hardwood floor.

  “What was I supposed to do Co-Co?” she stopped, and turned to say. “Tony gave me this gig! And they…!” she pointed toward Paulie, “gave me a chance to make a little extra money. I gotta get back to my daughter, Co-Co,” she pleaded. “I swear I needed the money.” Her palms were extended outward. “I never meant to hurt you. You know that, right?”

  I shook my head back and forth. “Cinnamon, you told me you didn’t have any kids.”

  “I told you a lot of things,” she admitted.

  “Fuck you, Cinnamon!” was all I could blurt out. I wanted to let the tears flow but couldn’t show any weakness.

  Cinnamon opened the front door and left. Of all people, why her? Only she had the power to hurt me. She was like a sister, my road dog, my right hand, the only one I’d let slip into my personal life. I’d learned the hard way a long time ago, people couldn’t be trusted. Nobody. I knew it all along, but poured my heart and soul into someone who pretended to be my friend. I eyed Cinnamon all the way to the front door thinkin’ about all the things I’d done and said around her. I thought about all the secrets I’d told her, and most importantly, things we’d discussed about Tony. Even when the sound of the door shuttin’ should’ve erased her from my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder what was in the plastic bag she’d handed off to Paulie.