Working Girls Page 8

  “I’m sorry, Halleigh,” he whispered.

  Chapter Eleven

  As Halleigh headed back to the hotel, she tried to conjure up an excuse for being gone so long. She couldn’t tell Tasha that she was out doing drugs with Scratch in an alley, so her mind raced, trying to figure out a legit story. Manolo kept close tabs on his girls, and if the money didn’t add up at the end of the night, there would definitely be a price to pay. As far as Halleigh was concerned, she had paid her share to the piper, and there was no way she was going to set herself up to endure any more torment at the hands of Manolo.

  What the fuck can I tell her? I’ve been gone for hours and shot all of my money up in my veins? I don’t know . . .

  Before Halleigh could finish her thought, she got an idea. She turned around and headed back to the alley. When she got there, she found Scratch pushing the last of the drug from the needle into his veins. “Want to make some money?” she asked Scratch.

  “Do pigs oink?” was his reply. “Hell yeah, Scratch wanna make some money!”

  “I got an idea. Follow me,” Halleigh said as she led him back to her hotel.

  Halleigh rested her hand on the telephone, making sure that Scratch understood what to say. “Make sure you repeat it just like I told you,” Halleigh instructed.

  “Scratch got it, baby girl.”

  “Tell her that you’ve got a thousand dollars for a bitch with a mean head job and to meet you in the lobby,” she said, coaching Scratch.

  “Cool.”

  Halleigh picked up the phone and dialed Mimi’s room number and quickly handed the phone to Scratch.

  Scratch cleared his throat and waited to hear a voice on the other end. After the fifth ring, Scratch heard a woman’s voice answer the phone. “Looky here, baby girl,” Scratch started. “I’m looking for a bitch with a mean head game. Dig this: I got a thousand dollars for whoever can show me a good time.”

  Halleigh stood there watching intensely as Scratch tried to sound as smooth as he could in his short conversation with Mimi. Halleigh could tell that back in the day, Scratch definitely had game. And she could tell by the look on his face that he enjoyed pretending to go back in time and play the role.

  After he finished his conversation, Scratch hung up the phone and licked his lips, feeling good about what he had just done. He thought he still had game, and in his mind, his slick talking confirmed it.

  “What did she say?” Halleigh asked impatiently as she threw her hands up.

  “You know ol’ Scratch is nice with the ladies. She was hanging off my ever y—”

  “What the fuck did she say? Damn!” Halleigh snapped, cutting Scratch off, hoping that he would just get to the point.

  “She said she’ll meet me in the lobby in five minutes,” Scratch said smoothly. He continued to smile and rub his hands together like a 1980s pimp.

  “Good.” Halleigh ran to her peephole and waited to see Mimi walk past, on her way down to the lobby. She knew that Mimi secretly took calls to do side jobs without Tasha knowing. She figured that Mimi was too greedy to let the opportunity pass to make that much money.

  Right on cue, Mimi rushed down to the lobby. Halleigh knew she didn’t have a lot of time before Mimi would get tired of waiting for the john that would never come, and she would eventually return back to her room.

  Halleigh rushed to the door that joined their two rooms and entered Mimi’s room. She searched Mimi’s drawers, underneath the bed, and her purse, looking for Mimi’s money.

  “Damn!” Halleigh yelled after a few minutes of searching and not coming up with anything. Her eyes nervously scanned the room, trying to figure out just where Mimi’s stash could be. She knew Mimi hadn’t taken it with her. The girls knew better than to carry their money on them. More than a few johns had tried to rob their tricks before, and Mimi was in the game long enough to know better.

  Halleigh picked up the mattress and flipped it over and still found nothing. Damn! I know she didn’t take her money with her, this time of all times, she thought as the realization sunk in. Her plan had failed. She would have no money to turn over to show that she’d been working all day. She would have to suffer the consequences with Manolo. Hopefully it wouldn’t be more time in the basement.

  Just as Halleigh turned to exit the hotel room, she saw a bulky Newport cigarette box on the dresser and thought, Bingo! Halleigh rushed over to the box and opened it up, feeling like she’d hit a Vegas jackpot. There was Mimi’s money, rolled up and stuffed into that cigarette box.

  “Ooh, Mimi, girl, I told you smoking was bad for your health.” Halleigh shrugged as she scooped the box up from the dresser and rushed out of Mimi’s hotel room and back over to her own, through the same connecting door she had entered.

  There, Scratch was waiting, hoping that Halleigh’s scheme had worked, so that at least this time he wouldn’t have to worry about where the money for his next hit was coming from.

  Halleigh closed the door and walked over to Scratch. “Here!” she said as she pulled the money out of the box and handed him two balled-up twenties.

  Scratch’s face lit up. He hadn’t had that much money all at one time in weeks. “Good lookin’ out, Li’l Rina,” Scratch said, holding one of the twenties up in the air, examining it and then plucking it.

  Halleigh rushed Scratch out of the room so that she could make her way over to Tasha’s room to show her just how much money she had made since she’d been gone. She told him, “Look, I’ll see you later.”

  When Halleigh got to Tasha’s door, she flattened down her clothes and relaxed her shoulders. She then held her hand up to the door. Just before she knocked, a streak of guilt went through her like lightning. How can I do this to Mimi? she asked herself. Halleigh knew what was going to happen to Mimi if she didn’t have any money to show for her time today. Knowing darn well that Tasha had tabbed all of her tricks, Manolo wasn’t going to accept any excuses as to why she didn’t have his money. But then Halleigh thought about another day in that basement. Next she thought about how Mimi, knowing she was the one to blame, didn’t have any problem letting her ass stay down there to be tortured. I didn’t see her ass stepping up to my rescue . Halleigh knocked on Tasha’s door.

  Tasha yelled, “Come in.”

  As Halleigh walked in, another one of Manolo’s girls was heading out. There were about five other girls in the room, including Tasha. Halleigh brushed past the girl who was leaving and walked over to Tasha. She was sitting at the table counting money.

  “You in trouble,” Tasha said in a low voice, never even taking her eyes off the money she was counting. “I told you about disappearing.” She pushed her bangs off her forehead and allowed them to blend in with her layered hair.

  Before Halleigh could respond, Manolo came out of the bathroom, making Halleigh’s heart skip a beat. She didn’t expect him to come all the way across town to check up on the girls. He seldom came to the regular hotel where the girls turned all their tricks.

  “Where the fuck have you been all day?” Manolo spat. “Tasha said you didn’t check in or nothing.” He walked over to Halleigh, chest puffed up in an intimidating manner.

  Halleigh pulled Mimi’s earnings out of her pocket and said, “I’ve been working. I went to the store to get something to eat and I got approached by a couple of johns. I made the money right then and there because they weren’t trying to come back to the hotel.”

  “That’s my bitch,” Manolo said proudly. Maybe she’s finally coming around, he thought.

  He looked down at his watch. “It’s time for me to wrap it up for the night. I’ll meet y’all at home. Tasha, collect the money and have it counted before y’all get home, baby.” He pulled Tasha up and kissed her passionately on the lips, smacking her ass when he finished.

  He walked over to Halleigh and did the same to her. He thought about the wad of money she’d just turned over. “You made Daddy proud today, Sunshine.”

  When Manolo left the room, Tasha returned her
full attention to Halleigh. She noticed that something was different about her. Her eyes were moving fast, and she couldn’t stay still. “Are you okay, Hal?” Tasha asked in a soft, concerned tone. “You don’t look so good.”

  “Yeah. Why you ask that? I’m good.” Halleigh said, trying to look as normal as she possibly could. Damn! Can she tell that I’m high? I don’t look high, do I?

  Boom!

  The door banged against the wall as Mimi stormed in the room totally enraged. “Somebody stole my mu’fuckin’ money!” she yelled as she balled up her fist. “I know it was one of y’all bitches!” she said loud enough for all the girls to hear, even the one who went into the bathroom when Manolo had come out.

  “Calm down yo’ voice! Don’t bring that shit up in here,” Tasha said low, but stern.

  “Tash, my fault,” Mimi said. “But my money is gone. I just made a run to the store, and when I came back, it was gone.”

  “I don’t have anything to do with that. You have to explain that shit to Manolo.” Tasha continued to count the money.

  “I swear to God, it’s some fake-ass bitches in here! When I find out who got my shit, I’m beating a bitch’s ass!” Mimi stormed out of the room, knowing she had to try to make some money before she saw Manolo. She didn’t want him to beat her ass, so she knew she had to get her hustle on.

  Halleigh took a deep breath. She hated that she’d smoked up all her money and had to steal Mimi’s, putting her in jeopardy. But just as quickly as the last wave of guilt had disappeared, so did this one.

  Whatever. Just like when she left me on stuck at Jamaica Joe’s house, I’ma let her ass take the fall for this one. I got to do whatever I got to do to get by. Halleigh took another deep breath and returned to her room.

  Chapter Twelve

  Mimi and Tasha started to notice a drastic change in Halleigh’s behavior and appearance. She was always so edgy and “noided” and was losing weight by the hour, it seemed.

  The three of them had grown close living under the same roof together, but lately, Halleigh was acting all paranoid. She was acting withdrawn, and seemed spaced-out all the time. She was often depressed, and when she thought no one was paying attention, she cried silently to herself.

  “I mean, let’s just leave her alone. Let her do her. Maybe she ain’t trying to have us all up in her face,” Mimi stated one day when Tasha asked her opinion on the situation. She figured that Halleigh would eventually snap out of whatever it was she was going through.

  Tasha knew that there was much more to the story. Her heart went out to Halleigh because she could see what the streets were doing to her. Ho’ing was sucking the life right out of Halleigh. Tasha could see Halleigh’s innocence fading, and the youthful sparkle in her eye had disappeared completely.

  Since Halleigh’s run-in with Malek, she had lost all hope. Not once had he come for her. It wasn’t that she really wanted him to come knocking down the door and making a scene, because the last thing she wanted was for him to once again put his life on the line for her. But if Julia Roberts could dream about her Prince Charming in the movie Pretty Woman, couldn’t Halleigh?

  After all, Malek was real to her. He was once her Prince Charming. He was all that she had ever wanted, but the reality was, they would never be together. After all that had happened, it was impossible for them to reconnect. Things would never go back to the way they used to be. Manolo had made it clear that she was not to associate herself with Malek, and if she disobeyed, he would kill both her and Malek.

  Halleigh’s appreciation for Manolo had long ago turned into contempt. She hated the sight of him, and the sound of his voice made her sick to her stomach. In her eyes, he was the root of all evil. He held her life in his hands and was unwilling to let her go. Halleigh knew that getting away from him would be one hell of a fight—a fight she just didn’t have the energy for.

  “I should just kill Manolo’s ass.” Halleigh thought out loud in desperation as she lay in the bed in one of her depressed states.

  Mimi exited the bathroom just in time to hear Halleigh’s outburst. She snapped her head in Halleigh’s direction, a look of shock on her face. Then she rushed to their bedroom door and closed it. I hope Manolo didn’t hear that, she thought.

  Mimi walked back over to Halleigh and sat next to her. “Girl, you better stop talking reckless before somebody hears you,” she whispered. “Have you lost your mind?”

  Halleigh didn’t say a word to Mimi. She just sat Indian-style and closed her eyes, like it was too painful for her to see her life as it was.

  “What is wrong with you?” Mimi asked.

  “I just want to be with him. Malek is all that I know. He is my heart. We had plans that always included each other. He’s all I’ve ever really wanted.” She dropped her head and played with her fingernails. “He’s how I ended up here in the first place. I was just trying to help him, earn a little money to help put up toward his bail, but look at me now, Mimi. Look at me now. I’m a whore! Who wants to spend the rest of their life with a whore who almost every nigga in Flint done ran up in, huh?”

  Mimi looked at Halleigh with sympathy, but she couldn’t feel empathy. She knew that Halleigh was in love with Malek. She could always tell when Halleigh was thinking about that boy, and that was usually day in and day out, but Mimi couldn’t fathom having love for another person. The only person she cared about was herself, not because she was selfish, but because she knew no other way.

  Mimi’s mother had abandoned her when she was just a child, sending her into the foster care system at the tender age of three. Never having a stable environment took its toll on Mimi. She never stayed in the same place long enough to develop any attachments, and she practically raised herself.

  “Shit, I can’t really speak on that because I don’t know nothing about love. The only thing I love is money. If a nigga got money, I guess I could learn to love him too.”

  Halleigh shook her head. “No, you don’t know anything about the way I feel because money can’t compare to Malek. I would die for him.”

  “You are basically dying for him. The only reason you still here is to stop Manolo from hurting that boy. You saving his life and he don’t even know it.”

  Yeah, if only he knew, Halleigh thought. If only he knew.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sweets sat back and watched one of his many boyfriends as he counted his money. He had quickly unloaded all of the bricks that he had stolen from Jamaica Joe, and the profit was incredible. He hated to admit it, but Joe had a nice connect and the quality of his heroin was better. No wonder I can’t keep up with this nigga, Sweets thought as he concentrated on the different denominations that he flipped through his hands. The process was lengthy because most of the bills were wrinkled fives, tens, and twenties. It was money that had probably been everywhere, from stuck down in a sock to the crotch of a G-string. But he couldn’t complain. He knew that dirty money was the best money, and he loved getting it.

  But what he could complain about was Joe. He was tired of sharing the city with Joe and knew that it was only a matter of time before he crushed Joe’s North Side empire.

  What gave Sweets the advantage in the battle was that Jamaica Joe wasn’t even aware that there was a snake in his camp. He should’ve made sure he was feeding his soldiers. If niggas ain’t eating, they start creeping. Disloyal-ass nigga, Sweets thought. He hated workers like Tariq. He felt that a side needed to be chosen. Either you were North or South. He despised dudes that tried to ride the fence. Usually, Sweets would have murked any nigga who tried to step to him with any type of proposition such as the one Tariq had presented him with. But Tariq was different. He was Joe’s right-hand man, not just some disgruntled corner boy, and he knew the ins and outs of Joe’s operation. So Sweets used it to his advantage. He was going to get as much information from Tariq as he could and then dispose of him afterwards.

  Sweets sucked on the Blow Pop in his mouth as he reached for his twin Desert Eagle pistols and
looked around his bedroom. He placed one pistol in his lap and put the other on the nightstand next to him.

  “Ay, go check the door,” Sweets instructed his lover.

  “I just did an hour ago,” was the gentleman’s reply.

  “Then get your ass up and do it again and shut them dick suckers up.”

  Sweets had been on edge ever since hitting Joe’s spot. He knew that Joe wasn’t going to let the situation go easily. He would try to retaliate, but when he did, Sweets planned on being prepared. He won’t catch me slipping, Sweets thought.

  Most dudes who were out in the open with their attraction to other men would have been underestimated when it came to gunplay, but Sweets was amongst the feared in Flint. It wasn’t a secret that he had been with both men and women, but preferred men to women any day. He had been gay ever since he was a child. Although, as a child, he was molested by one of his foster mother’s boyfriends, that wasn’t the cause of him being like he was today.

  Sweets grew up knowing that he was different than the other little knuckleheads that ran around his block, and it was apparent to everyone else that he had feminine characteristics. Kids his age taunted him daily, and it wasn’t until he hit high school that he began to accept himself.

  When he was in the tenth grade, Sweets met one of Flint’s most notorious gangsters, Smitty Jake. Smitty was a smooth OG and a retired hustler, but he was still respected around the city. He was married with three children at home, but he still found time to mess around with men. His fascination with men, young and old, was what drew him to Sweets, and the two had a love affair that introduced Sweets to an entirely different perspective of the homosexual lifestyle.