Working Girls Page 10

  Tasha pulled away from Halleigh and put her hands on her shoulders. “Listen, stay here. I’ll be back in a while. Do not leave this room, Hal. If the phone rings, just answer it and direct the traffic to the other girls. You got that?”

  Halleigh nodded.

  “Good. I’ll be back,” Tasha said as she exited the room.

  After Tasha closed the door behind her, she stood there with her back against it, still holding the knob. She exhaled. Because Halleigh was a genuinely good person, Tasha’s heart ached for her. Tasha knew that she was partly to blame for Halleigh’s disposition. Being the madam of the house, it was her job to make the girls feel as if they had nowhere else to go. The situation with Halleigh had gone too far, however, with her resorting to heroin as an escape, just like Loita.

  I have to find Malek for her.

  Tasha knew there was a possibility that Manolo would harm Halleigh if he ever found out that she reunited with Malek, but she knew for sure that drugs would kill her. Tasha couldn’t just sit back and watch her girl send herself into an early grave. So she had a job to do. She had made a promise that she intended to keep.

  And so she released the doorknob and began her trek in search of Malek.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tasha pulled her car up to Joe’s home on Coldwater and turned off her ignition. She was down with Sweets, Manolo, and the South Side, but she was also well known throughout the entire city. She and Joe had enjoyed some mind-blowing nights together a couple years ago, and she was confident that she was safe on his side of town.

  She stared up at his four-bedroom home and butterflies entered her stomach. She wasn’t afraid of Jamaica Joe, but she was afraid of what Manolo would do to her if he ever found out that she was in the presence of his enemy.

  She pulled down the sun visor and looked at herself in the mirror attached to it. She checked her M•A•C makeup to make sure her shit was tight, and then she stepped out of the car, gracing the cold Flint streets with her Jimmy Choo stilettos. Most hoes in Flint didn’t even know what the hell Jimmy Choo was. It was more like, “Jimmy who?”

  These whack chicks probably thinking it’s a new Chinese joint or something, no-class-having-ass bitches, Tasha thought arrogantly as she adjusted the strap on her shoe and then made her way to Joe’s front porch.

  Tasha was a top-notch ho, and she knew it. And so did everybody who knew her. She kept up with all the latest fashions. If she’d been born in a big city, her dreams of becoming a model might have been realistic, but in a small city like Flint, it just wasn’t happening. As she walked up to Joe’s, she quickly caught the attention of the group of men posted around his back entryway. They lusted blatantly, commenting on her five-foot–nine-inch stature, slim waist, and wide hips. Her calf muscles were defined from years of walking up and down Flint’s tracks, and her perky C cups set her figure off just right. Tasha was damn near perfect.

  The only thing she didn’t like about herself were the scars on her back, left by the last john she’d serviced. The psycho had almost taken her life when he became upset that he had to pay extra money for some extra acts that Tasha had performed for him. He ended up pulling a box cutter on her, eventually getting the extra acts he wanted, cutting her and taking them by force. She fought back with every ounce of strength she had in her, ignoring the burning stings from the blade. She was lucky to leave with her life, and after the incident, she convinced Manolo to put her on as the madam of the house.

  Tasha adjusted her bra strap and licked her lips. She didn’t mind at all the slick comments that Joe’s associates made as she stood before them. She was used to lame niggas spitting whack lines to get down. Little did they know, if they started talking the right amount of money, they could have her. Broke niggas don’t never want to put their money where their mouth is.

  She came right out and said, “I’m looking for Malek. Does anybody know where I can find him?” She stood at the bottom of the porch steps, glancing from one dude to the next, waiting on a reply.

  One of the guys said, “Damn, this li’l mu’fucka got bad bitches like you checking for him?”

  Tasha ignored the comment.

  One of the other men tapped lightly on the door and yelled through the screen, “Yo, Joe, tell Malek he got a bad bitch looking for him out here.”

  Jamaica Joe came to the screen and peered out. He instantly recognized Tasha. “Aw shit, Tash! Come on in,” he stated, happy to see her.

  As soon as she walked through the door, he embraced her. He looked over his shoulders and nodded for his guys to go check out shit, to make sure she didn’t bring anybody else with her who might be trying to set him up.

  “How you been doing, Joe?” Tasha tried to pull away from Joe’s embrace, but was unable to, as he caressed her like a long-lost friend, feeling her up. “Look, Joe, you can stop it with the body search. I ain’t got nothin’ on me. I ain’t come bringing no shit. I’m just looking for somebody, one of your homeboys, all right?”

  Joe eased up and released her. He knew Tasha was good peoples, but with some of the shit going down lately, he could never be too sure. For all he knew, Manolo and Sweets had sent her to catch a nigga slippin’ again.

  “All right. You good, ma.” He looked her up and down. “And still lookin’ good too. By the way, how’s that chump nigga treating you? You still running the Manolo Mamis, right?”

  “I’m good, Joe.”

  “Yeah, that’s what your mouth say. I don’t know why you still in that game anyway. You know if you ever need something—”

  “I’m good,” she answered again.

  Joe and Tasha had a nice little rapport going on between them. They always had, despite the beef between the two rival gangs. Joe had tried to pull her from underneath Manolo plenty of times, but Tasha wasn’t trying to be the atomic bomb in a war that was already explosive enough. She knew the game, and she knew her place. Loyalty was important to her, even though she did enjoy spending time with Joe.

  “Okay, okay. You killing me, though, coming to my spot, looking for my boy.” Joe placed a hand on his heart, as if he’d been shot there.

  His charming smile made Tasha laugh. “Come on now,” she said. “You know me better than that. I need to talk to your boy about my girl Halleigh.”

  Before Jamaica Joe could respond, Malek walked into the room.

  “Speak of the devil,” Joe said.

  Tasha stared up at the tall, handsome young boy who stood before her. He was far from a boy, though. The nineteen-year-old was nice, with a body that had Tasha’s eyes wandering. Damn, this is why Hal’s head is so gone off of him. Tasha had to admit, with his charming features, she could see how Halleigh could fall in love with him.

  “What about Halleigh?” Malek asked. Hearing her name had piqued his interest.

  Tasha could sense the concern and anxiety in his voice and thought that it might be easier than she expected to hook them up. “She needs you,” Tasha said simply. “Your girl is on some other shit right now. I don’t want to put her business out like that, so I’m just gon’ say it’s bad. You’re the only person she talks about. She is going crazy without you,” Tasha stated in a serious tone. “Maybe you can talk some sense into her, ’cause as of now, she ain’t trying to hear me.”

  Jamaica Joe interjected, “I know y’all ain’t talking about that little trick from the party. Manolo’s ho.”

  Tasha nodded, never taking her eyes off Malek.

  “Yo, fuck that shit right now.” Jamaica Joe put his hand on Malek’s shoulder. The last thing he wanted was for Malek’s head to be far gone on some broad while they had bigger things to tend to. He needed his soldier focused on the real business at hand—catching Sweets and his crew slipping.

  Jamaica Joe had seen how fucked up Malek was after Halleigh chose Manolo over him the night of the party. His pain was evident from the look in his eyes, but as far as Joe was concerned, his business took priority over Malek’s business with some high school girlfriend.
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  “That’s Manolo’s pussy, man,” Joe said to Malek then turned his attention to Tasha. “She straight ho’ed my boy for that nigga. She deserves to be where she’s at.”

  Tasha yelled when she saw Malek’s expression turn cold. “Joe, it’s not like that. You know how Manolo can get in these girls’ heads. He told her that he would kill her and Malek.”

  “Nah. He can touch her, but this nigga right here can’t be touched.” Joe patted Malek on the shoulder, letting him know he had his back.

  “Malek?” Tasha asked, her voice pleading with him to help Halleigh.

  Jamaica Joe stared intently at him to see what his decision would be. He’d already made it clear that there was no riding the fence anymore. Malek had to choose. He was either North or South.

  The light of hope Tasha had initially seen in Malek was now dimming. “Just come see her,” Tasha said. “Please . . . that’s all I’m asking.”

  Malek hesitated. The thought of Halleigh being in trouble bothered him, but he couldn’t get past the fact that she’d put another nigga before him.

  Joe got in his ear. “What’s it gonna be, homie, North or South?” His tone was laced with a discreet warning that Malek better make the right choice or he might not even make it out of that house alive to go talk to Halleigh.

  Malek looked up at Joe, even though he was replying to Tasha, and said, “I don’t fuck with no South Side bitch.” Then he walked away.

  A smirk appeared on Joe’s face. He nodded his head, pleased that Malek had made the right decision—money over bitches—and watched his boy walk away.

  “Joe?” Tasha said as she looked his way for help.

  Joe shrugged. I know this ho don’t think I’ma talk my boy into choosing her crew over mine.

  “Come on, Joe. Go talk to him.”

  “He a grown-ass man. That’s his business.”

  “Yeah, but this is a matter of life and death. You have no idea how far gone this chick is. I ain’t asking him to disregard his loyalty to you. I just want him to have one lousy gotdamn conversation with her. A conversation that could possibly save her life.”

  Joe simply shrugged again and then kissed Tasha on the cheek, letting her know it was still good between them.

  Tasha sighed and threw her hands up in despair. She stormed out of the house. It was the first time in a long time that she felt like crying. What do I tell this girl? I can’t just walk in there and say, “He don’t want your ass no more.”

  Tasha drove slowly back to the hotel, trying to decide if she should lie to Halleigh and say that she couldn’t find Malek but would keep trying. Perhaps that would buy her some time.

  When Tasha got back to the hotel, she wasn’t even in the room more than a few seconds before Halleigh jumped up, eager to find out if she’d tracked down Malek.

  “Hey, Tash,” Halleigh said excitedly. She kept peering behind Tasha, hoping Malek would walk through the door. “Where is he? What did he say?”

  Tasha shook her head, but she was unable to form the words.

  “Well, come on, tell me. Since when have you ever been at a loss for words?” Halleigh said, trying to keep the mood light. Tasha’s mood was a sure sign that her attempt was unsuccessful. “You didn’t find him, did you?”

  At that moment, Tasha could have easily lied to Halleigh. She could have been persistent and kept going back at Malek until he gave in and talked to Halleigh; even if she had to throw some pussy at him just to get him to do it. But instead, the truth prevailed. “No, I found him.”

  There was a pregnant silence.

  “And?” Halleigh finally said.

  Tasha looked up with her saddened eyes.

  “And he’s not coming, is he?”

  Before Tasha could even speak, Halleigh’s excitement had turned to complete despair. She could only imagine what Malek said to Tasha. “He doesn’t love me anymore.” Halleigh fell weakly to her knees.

  The sound that erupted from her body was enough to bring Tasha to tears as she fell to the floor with her friend and held her tightly. Despite what Halleigh thought, Tasha really did care about her; although at first, when Mimi brought her to the house to become a Manolo Mami, Tasha had a hint of jealousy in her bones for the young girl. She saw something in Halleigh, that “it” factor people sometimes talked about, and she didn’t want “it” to take her place. But once Tasha realized that Halleigh wasn’t a threat and that her only mission in life was to reunite with her boyfriend, Tasha quickly killed the jealous voice in her head. Now she had nothing but love for the young doe who had gotten herself caught in headlights.

  “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” Tasha repeated over and over in her attempt to comfort Halleigh.

  Her words fell on deaf ears, though. Halleigh couldn’t stop the pain she was feeling. She just sat on the floor hopelessly and cried enough tears to cleanse the entire city.

  Tasha stroked Halleigh’s hair and thought about her next move.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Tasha, I don’t know about y’all living at the hotel. That would be double the cost just for the rooms. Instead of paying for the rooms for a couple of hours, I would be paying full price,” Manolo said, skepticism in his voice.

  “Come on, Daddy. Think about it. We are missing out on so much money. By us being here at the hotel twenty-four hours, we could make twice as much money. It’s a win-win situation,” Tasha said convincingly as she talked into the phone in her hotel room. She hoped that Manolo would fall for the little trick she had up her sleeve, because she knew that she would need time to get Halleigh back right. If Manolo saw her in the state she was in, his method of detox would probably be another two weeks in the basement.

  Manolo listened closely on the other end of the phone, while one of the girls filed his fingernails for him. Fortunately for Tasha, the more she talked, the more he began to see things her way. The mention of making more money had him game.

  “All right, Tasha, but if the cash flow don’t double up, I’ma take it out on that ass, hear me?” Manolo said sternly.

  “Yeah, Daddy, I hear you. I’ma make you proud.” With that, Tasha hung up the phone and focused her attention over to her bed. She knew the other girls weren’t going to take too kindly to the new arrangement she’d just made with Manolo, but if she had to sacrifice their time and happiness to save one, then her mind was made up: she was going to do it.

  Tasha knew that she had bought herself some time. She wanted to keep Manolo away from Halleigh for as long as possible, until she got better. Seeing her would be a dead giveaway. He would easily see that Halleigh was fiending for one of two things: either dope or Malek. And neither one would please him.

  Now that Tasha had taken care of phase one of the plan with Manolo, it was time to take care of phase two with Halleigh. She went into one of the dominatrix bags that the girls sometimes used on their customers. She then made her way over to Halleigh, who was coming out of a dope coma.

  “Let me go, you crazy bitch!” Halleigh yelled as she tried to avoid being handcuffed to the bed. She was too weak to stand a chance against Tasha.

  “Look, Halleigh, I’m sorry about this. I don’t want to have to leave you tied up like this, but I can’t sit here and watch you continue to hurt yourself. You are killing yourself slowly on that needle. Believe me, I’ve seen that shit destroy some of the toughest chicks. Let me help you, okay?” Tasha said in a comforting tone. She looked into Halleigh’s baggy eyes and felt sorry for her. Determined to help Halleigh shake her habit, she wasn’t about to let the streets swallow her whole like they did Loita.

  “Bitch, I said let me go!” Halleigh screamed as she continued to squirm and jerk to no avail.

  Tasha had to head out and take care of some business, and she didn’t want Halleigh to hit the streets looking for another fix. Unfortunately, part of her plan meant that she herself would have to come out of retirement and hit the track to compensate for Halleigh. While out tricking, she knew she had to keep Halle
igh restrained, or else the first thing she’d do was go out and get a hit.

  “I will let you go, Hal, but you have to kick this shit first. I’m so sorry, but it’s for your own good.” Tasha looked at her, hoping that Halleigh could see in her eyes how sincere she was about helping her.

  “Aghh! Aghh! Help me!” Halleigh screamed, hoping her cries for help would grab someone’s attention.

  Tasha let her scream, knowing that no one would come and check on her. They were at a “whore motel,” and screaming and begging was a common sound coming from their rooms.

  “Go ahead and scream all you like,” Tasha told her, “but I’m not going to let you go until I get back. I know you don’t believe me when I say it, but I really do care about you and what happens to you. I don’t want to see you end up like . . .” Tasha’s words trailed off. “Look, I love you, girl, and I know that you are going to beat this shit.” Tasha sat on the bed next to Halleigh and began to rub her head.

  “I don’t need your help!” Halleigh forcefully yanked away from Tasha. “I need a hit!”

  “That shit is going to kill you, Halleigh,” Tasha yelled as she looked down at her with tears in her eyes. Why couldn’t Halleigh see that all she was trying to do was help her? Tasha could have easily just let her fall off and become like some of the other girls, but she wouldn’t be able to live with herself. She just couldn’t understand why Halleigh wouldn’t want the help somebody was trying to offer her.

  “Maybe I want to die, Tasha. You ever thought about that? Malek doesn’t want me. What man would? There’s no point in living,” she said, staring at the ceiling.

  “Fuck him, Halleigh, and anybody else, for that matter.” She grabbed Halleigh by the face. “Do this for you! Don’t end up like your mother. Fight this.”

  Halleigh was offended that Tasha would even insinuate that she was anything like her mother. “I’m not going to end up like my mother. I’m nothing like that bitch.”