Page 43 of Thirst

“Neither,” I reply. “I mean, yeah, I went up there with him, but we didn't have sex or nothing. I just danced for him the way I always do. But Von was trippin’ before, saying that we were getting too hot during the dance in the booth, so Amari wanted to move just to keep Von out of our hair.”

“He was willing to pay just to keep Von away? That's wild.”

“Well, he's good for it,” I reply, almost defensively.

“I guess you would know. You run to him the second he walks through the door.”

“He’s rich, Majesty, and fine as hell. You would run to him, too. Don't start hating. You're starting to sound like Shay.”

Majesty winces like I just smacked her. “Ouch. Alright. I understand you gotta do what you gotta do. Just be careful. You never know who the people in here really are.”

I finish messing with my heels and nod to her as I stand up. I don't know why I feel so bothered by her talking about Amari, but I do. What I'm doing isn't anybody else’s business, and it’s hard enough trying to decipher my situation without interference from people on the outside looking in.

So much has happened that I don't even know how to think straight. I've been to Amari’s penthouse after being picked up by his assistant. I've had dinner with him. I've gone into his bedroom and had my blood sucked while being eaten out. Then, I went home and had my friend discover that the wound used to suck my blood has vanished as if it were never there. My brain can't put it all together. On one hand, I'm thrilled at the night we spent together. On the other … what the hell happened to the cut?

Unless I've missed something, Amari isn't a magician. So I don't know how the cut managed to stitch itself closed all on its own. Is my memory playing tricks on me? Did he not cut me? Did I imagine the whole thing? Or am I superhuman and able to heal like Wolverine? A million questions come, all of them unaccompanied—not a single answer in sight.

I have no options. I’d be a fool to accuse Amari of using voodoo or alchemy to heal me, and I won't visit the emergency room to have a doctor test me for magical healing powers. All I can do is ask Amari if he has any answers, and I’ll get my chance when we have dinner tomorrow night.

“What are you over here thinkin’ about?” Von asks, his voice slicing through my train of thought as he stands next to me in front of the curtain separating the floor from the locker room.

I turn to him, nearly blinded by the yellow shirt he's wearing and the matching diamonds in his ear. His beard has an extra shine to it and he has an eyebrow raised.

“Nothing in particular,” I lie as my eyes scan the crowd for Amari even though I know he won't be there.

“What happened when you and ol’ boy went upstairs?”

I frown as I answer. “Why are you all in my business?”

“Because you bringin’ your business to my place of business,” he growls. “Clearly somethin’ is up between you two, and I wanna know if you let him hit. Plus, I don't I like him. I don't like the way he talks to me, and I don't like the way he looks at me. There's somethin’ that ain’t right about him. So whatever you got goin’ on, just make sure it doesn't disrupt my business. Feel me?”

“Von, you take a cut out of everything I make,” I say, not even bothering to make eye contact with him. “Since Amari came in here, you've been getting paid. Just enjoy it.”

He scoffs. “I guess. Just remember what I said. You know I take my money seriously. Just make sure you stay on top of it. Speakin’ of which, somebody asked for you. Booth three.”

“What? I haven't even been on stage yet.”

“Yeah well that's what happens when you’re in here grindin’ on laps like you're tryin’ to get pregnant. Everybody wants a piece. You made your bed, now lie in it.”

I look over to booth three and see somebody who looks entirely too much like a crack head. His skin looks ashy, his hair is a mess, and I can practically smell the alcohol on his breath from here.

I turn to Von and frown. “Him? Von, he doesn't even look like he has money.”

“He requested you.”

“So? What if he can't pay?”

“He’ll pay, or we’ll beat his ass.”

“But I gotta be the test dummy for a crack head? If he can't pay, then I just wasted my time dancing with his stank breath all in my face. I'm the one who has to endure the bullshit. All you gotta do is have him beat up and thrown out. I'm taking all the risk.”

Von turns to me in a flash, an angry expression pulling his brows down. “Consider it reapin’ what you sow. You let that boy of yours say somethin’ about shuttin’ me up. Then he … did somethin’ to me. I can't put my finger on it, but I saw that little smirk on your face when he said it. You liked it, huh? You thought it was hot? Well, I wonder if this homeless lookin’ fool is hot. Go find out.”

“You're being ridiculous. And what do you mean he did something to you? What are you talking about?”

“I don't know. I just … I saw it in his eyes,” Von stammers, which is unlike him. “He got in my head, and … I don't fuckin’ know. There’s just somethin’ dark about him. I don't know what it is, but you’re gonna find out before I do. Good luck with that. Have a great lap dance.”

He walks away, striding to the stairs leading to the Viper Rooms while I stare at the man in booth three. He looks like he just finished robbing a liquor store before he came here, and now I'm supposed to risk it all for a couple of twenties. All this because Amari punked Von with a simple gaze. The way he was trying to make excuses for being afraid of Amari was ridiculous, and now he's punishing me for it. But what did he mean when he said Amari got into his head?