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“You’re time is up, muthafucka. You’re done,” Crown stated.
“Crown, what’s up wit’ this? I ain’t finished,” Bobby said, as he jumped out of Chaos’s pussy.
Crown grabbed Bobby by his neck and pushed him on the floor. “You’re done, nigga! Get the fuck out!”
Bobby looked up at Crown in anger, but was scared to do anything about it. He collected his clothing and scurried out the room.
“Bitch, why you taking forever wit’ this nigga? What the fuck I told you? If the nigga don’t nut in fifteen minutes, you charge the nigga extra or leave. My time is money, Chaos,” he fumed.
“Baby, I know—”
Slap!
Chaos received a hard, right-hand hit across her face. She fell back against the couch, holding her jaw. She wasn’t shocked by Crown’s abuse; she’d been hit before. He was a bully, and too controlling. She felt sorry for Bobby and embarrassed that Crown interrupted them.
“Bitch, get your fuckin’ shit together. We out.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Chaos replied in an obeying tone.
Crown left the room. Chaos watched him leave and got dressed. She stared at her outfit on the floor, the one Crown just stepped all over with his dirty shoes, and knew that she didn’t want to go back out there. But money needed to be made, and she had no other way to live.
Chaos slid back into her stilettos, continued to soothe the side of her face, dusted off her scanty outfit and walked back out into spotlight. She heard someone say, “Damn, Crown got that bitch on lock.”
Mocking comments like that made her sour but when a fellow dancer came up to her and said, “Oh, Chaos, YB was just in here lookin’ for you.” A smile appeared and her thoughts of him made her attitude change.
****
YB stepped into Magic’s office at the end of a long, concrete hallway in the basement. Stepping into Magic’s office was like coming through a portal as the décor and atmosphere was much different from the seedy club he owned upstairs.
Magic loved to read, and his entire wall was lined with books that expanded vertically and horizontally against the wall with titles by Robert Greene, Anthony T. Browder, James Patterson, Napoleon Hill, and many more. On one bookshelf alone, he had nothing but bulky books on Pennsylvania law and appeals.
The lavish office also contained a forty-two-inch flat screen TV mounted on the wall, a state-of-the-art sound system, a long, plush leather couch and a polished cherry wood executive desk. A brown tufted leather recliner rested behind it. Magic had taste and he had class. His style of décor represented him, and the chicks loved it.
“Damn, Magic, you be reading all these books?” YB asked, staring at his collection.
Magic closed the door behind him and replied with, “Reading them books helped me avoid the death penalty and also taught me how to file for an appeal. Because of those books, I eventually got my lengthy sentence reduced. Knowledge is power, YB.”
“Yeah, whateva…I ain’t got no time to have my face in no book. You know me, Magic. I’m about my business.”
“You about your business, huh? Well, your business is fuckin’ up my shit upstairs,
” Magic said with his raspy tone.
“Yo, that nigga Crown . . . he a bitch-ass nigga, Magic. I don’t like that nigga.”
“He’s an asshole, I agree. But that nigga knows how to bring money in for my club. He about his business, too. And besides, I hear you’re beefin’ with him because you got a soft spot for one of his girls.”
“It ain’t even like that wit’ me, Magic. I mean—”
“What? You’re too hard to admit that you like being with a woman? You wanna be an idiot like your cousin, Rufus, and rape chicks and show them no love?”
“Nah, Magic. I ain’t like my cousin.”
“That’s good, nigga, ’cause let me tell you something, YB. Them chicks that work for me upstairs love me, because I show ’em love right back. You show a bitch enough love and she’ll go to the end of the earth for you. But you piss ’em off, and you’ll see that hell has no fury like a woman scorned.”
“I see you, Magic. You the man up in here. I know you done fucked a few of these chicks up in here.” YB smiled.
“Little nigga, my business is my business,” Magic calmly replied.
