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It’s been about three months since I was made president, and my life flipped upside down. Don’t get me wrong, I love this little girl who calls me Da but fuck this is harder than one expected. The bitches at the club have been helping with Ciara. Thankfully. I mean, I can’t be here twenty-four fucking seven. Mom knows nothing about little girls, and with all the shit she gave me, she’s barely spoken to me or been around her only grandchild.
I can’t help but be pissed because if I would have had a boy instead of Ciara, she’d have been over the fucking moon. Last I heard, she has been fucking with the other whores we have bringing in money. To the public eye, it's an escort service, and it is, but sex happens.
Pulling up to the club, I get out, pull Ciara from her booster seat, and hand her off to one of the girls so they can take her to play inside while I head into the clubhouse and check on things before heading home to grab a drink and dinner.
“Ainsley, you’re lucky I love you and Otto. That bitch was so fucking uptight I almost asked her if I could help her pull the fucking stick from her God damned ass. What the fuck did you get me into? She looked at me like I was below her. Had the nerve to act like she knew my fucking life.” Complaining, I run my hands through my hair before rubbing my temples and feel hands on my shoulders giving me a squeeze.
“Hey, cuz.” Em kisses my cheek. “Why so tense?”
“My girl Toney seems to have ruffled the cock’s feathers a twitch.” Ainsley snickers, making me roll my eyes.
“Really? How unlike you.” I can hear Em suck her teeth as she squeezes again. “I thought you were impervious to the pussy parade these days.”
“Fuck you, both of you.” I drop my head to the bar. “My dick was hard as fucking stone until she opened that fucking mouth toward me. She was so fucking good with Ciara but treating me like some thug because I had to pay in fucking cash, and I’m covered in tats. Fuck her.”
“Saint, are you sure you went to the right office? I mean, Toney is the sweetest, most professional person I have ever met. I mean, come on, I was working for her in that big ass house, next thing I know, we’re buddies, and she kept paying me until she got me hired doing two more places to replace her, so we could stay friends. Does a cunty bitch do that?” Ainsley shakes her head. “Girl kept me from having to ride the pole for anything but fun.”
“Have I ever fucking lied to you? I don’t fucking lie. I ain’t got time for that bullshit. She knew who I was before I walked in, so I’d say we were in the right fucking place.” Ainsley is looking at the ceiling. “What the fuck did you tell her?” I roar.
“Nothing! I told her you were sorta off the grid, so cash was the only way you’d pay. I didn’t wanna scare her or anything. She knows Otto is in the clink, but I didn’t get into it. Club business is club business, not for me to be running my mouth about.”
I grab a glass from the bar and sling it against the wall. “FUCK!” I shove off my stool, knocking it to the ground. Fucking women and their God Damned mouths. I feel like breaking a lot of shit. I’m grabbed by the face.
I’m damn near snorting fire by the time I look into my best friend’s face. “What the fuck did y’all do to him?”
The girls are saying something, but I can’t understand it. “The fucking doc Ciara saw today.”
“What happened? Was it bad news?” Monroe is serious, and he’s barely ever that way.
“Yeah, for me and my cock.” I growl. Next and only thing I can hear is Monroe howling with laughter. “Fuck you!” I shove him away.
“Brother, you need to do some deep diving, and like yesterday. You’re wound so fucking tight I’m bettin’ if I shoved coal up your ass, I’d get a fuckin’ diamond mine in ten flat. We need—you need a party. You got that empty ass house. Let’s fill it with food, booze, and boobs.”
“I’m game.” Ainsley chirps, jumping up and down. If she isn’t careful, she’s gonna knock herself out.
“I can’t have all the shit around the house. I’ve got a fucking kid now.” I shake my head. “I’m out, I need a drink, and I think I have to do the daddy thing. Later.”
Monroe grabs my arm. “Yeah, you got a kid, a playful and bored little girl with only a room and an empty house to play in. Shut the fuck up, and make sure the front door is open Saturday morning because the Gatekeepers are gonna warm up your cold, empty crib.”
I snort and walk away. Time to take my little girl home.
***
Bang! Bang! Thump!
My eyes slam open full of grit, stinging like hellfire as a car horn blares to the tune of Oh Danny Boy. Seven-forty-five? Fucking Monroe! I throw the sheet off my naked ass, grab my .45, and hang out the open window, landing a warning shot just inches from his treacherous early morning foot.
“Hey! Watch it! Children at play!” Monroe chuckles, side-stepping the dust cloud.
“Yeah? Shut the fuck up, cause mine is still as—” I stop seeing Ciara spinning around with Delia. Both in big floppy hats and little dresses, only my little girl has fluttery sleeves. “If she isn’t slathered in SPF five thousand, I’m going to skin you alive and make fucking lampshades!”
Delia looks up and then grabs Ciara’s face covering her eyes. “Dude! Put some pants on! I don’t want to see that shit!”
“You cold, bro?” Monroe is cackling as he hits the horn again, and here comes the militia. I can see a line of bikes and pickups as they come down the road toward my joint. Fuck. I need pants.
As I pull a beater over my head coming out the bedroom door, I can smell something akin to burnt toast. Now what? I see pans, plates, and silverware in the sink, following the stench to my hardly used kitchen. Did these bitches cook and not—I stop my internal rant seeing a plate covered in foil with a note that says Da. Cracking the tin, I find something that should have been scrambled eggs but looks more like chopped quiche and a few strips of bacon with a burnt sliver of rye bread.
