Retribution (14 page)

Her client chimes in. “Girl, I heard he's good in bed, too.”

“Mmmph,” Cassandra says low enough for only me to hear. “What I tell you? A buncha nosey-ass bitches, lurkin'. Anyway, that fine-ass nigga is all balls, sugah-boo. But you ain't hear that from me 'cause you know I can't stand a gossipin'-ass ho.”

I shake my head, chuckling at that.
Sweetie, you're the messiest of 'em all.
She's so thick in denial that it's almost hilarious. “Cass, you're a mess.”

“Uh-huh. But you know I ain't ever messy.” Her cell phone rings as I'm wrapping a towel around her head. I raise her up from the sink. Then start combing conditioner through her hair. She answers her phone. “What is it, Day'Asia? No you can't stay the night over Clitina's…what you tryna do, suck dick in the
stairwell tonight? Yeah, right. I know how you do. And I know that whore-ass Clitina, too.

“Bring yo' ass in the house right after school, Day'Asia. Matter of fact, I want that nasty-ass bedroom cleaned by the time I get home. And I better not find no bloody draws stuffed under ya mattress, either…”

I cringe.
Ugh!

“No, goddammit…what the fuck I say, Day'Asia…? No, she can't stay the night, either. Look,
don't
do me…Bitch, I'm tryna keep it classy, but you tryna have me take it to the ghetto with ya ass. Now keep it up…What the fuck did I just finish tellin' ya black, crusty ass? See…no, bitch, you tryna make me flip on the ghetto-switch ‘n' turn it up on ya goddamn skull. Don't have me fuck you up.”

She disconnects the call. “Goddamn kids stay tryna do me,” she mutters, tossing her phone into her bag. “Miss Pasha, girl, be glad you ain't have you no hot-in-the-ass girl. I swear I don't know where the hell she get that shit from.”

I blink. I don't say a word. But, in my head, I'm thinking, “She's exactly like your ass,
sugah-boo.”

The only difference is, Day'Asia isn't pregnant. Booty's hot ass been fucking and sucking since she was twelve, and was knocked up by the time she was thirteen, or fourteen. I can't remember. All I know is, she was pregnant almost every year after that, popping babies out like damn rabbits. And here she is, ten kids and eight baby daddies later.

“Miss Pasha, girl, I'll be glad when her ass turns eighteen. She's gettin' the fuck outta my house. Ooh, she works my last damn nerve.”

I chuckle.

A few clients chime in, sharing their woes with having daughters.
I don't say much. Shit, if I had a daughter, I'd be worried her ass would be another Day'Asia, sucking dick in stairwells and shit. Hopefully, the only thing I'll have to be concerned with when Jaylen becomes a teenager is, him getting caught with his dick down in some girl's throat at school. And, hopefully, not getting some hot-ass girl pregnant.

I shudder at the thought, relieved that I have a long way before I have to worry about any of that. I glance up at the wall clock. 10:15.

I'll be glad when this day is over!

There's a calm before every storm. And then the aftermath…

“Y
essss, goddammit!” Cassandra says, looking in the mirror admiring her new do when I'm finally done. She turns her head from side to side. “You shitted your drawz with this right here, Miss Pasha, girl.” I removed the weave I had put in several weeks ago, then washed and conditioned her hair. Then I cut it into a short sassy style and gave her a sweeping bang over her right eye that drops to her jawline. I added some weave to give it more body, although she has—well, had—a head full of hair and doesn't need weaves. Anyway, the back is tapered real close with asymmetric points along the nape. She swings her hair. “Oooh, you did me right, goddammit!”

I can't help but laugh at her ass as I unsnap the cape from around her neck. “Thanks, girl.” I glance up at the clock. It's only eleven o'clock and I'm already exhausted.

Booty stands, fixing her self in the wall mirror, handing me back the handheld mirror. “Ooooh, I'ma tear the club up tonight. Mmmph. Miss Pasha, girl, can't a bitch do me like you do, sugah-boo. Ooh, wait. I need you to bring down the back a taste. I wanna keep these edges real tight.” She runs her hand along the nape of her neck. “Yesss, goddammit, you did that. You need to come on
down to the club tonight. You ain't gotta stay long, sugah-boo. But it's time you get out ‘n' sweep it to the floor a taste. Let ya wig down, sugah-boo. And you ain't gotta worry 'bout no kinda hood drama kickin' up tonight; they real classy ghetto on Tuesday and Thursday nights. The coon-boogas ‘n' nigga-trolls don't come out 'til Friday and Saturday nights.”

I shake my head, knitting my brows together. “Booty, you know I'm not gonna be caught dead up in there. That's not even my type of club.”

She raises her eyebrow, eyeing through the mirror. “What you tryna say, Miss Pasha, girl? That you too good for the Crack House? You standin' here soundin' like you tryna say only a buncha hoodrat ‘n' ghetto hooker-boos hang out down at the club. And I know I ain't neither one of them kinda bitches. I always keep it real hood-classy when I step out. Well, unless a coon tryna do me, then I gotta flip up the ghetto switch a taste. But I don't ever keep it turnt all the way up. I go out to have me a good goddamn time. Something you need to learn to do. You too uptight, Miss Pasha, girl; what you need'a do is come out ‘n' make that cootie-coo pop a taste. Swirl them hips ‘n' dip it down low.”

As I'm about to open my mouth to say something, Jasper and Stax walk toward my station. I didn't hear the door open with all the chatter and commotion going on back here.

“Yo, let me holla at you for a minute,” Jasper says, walking up on me. I can already tell his ass is still tight with me for getting home well after midnight last night. Yet, that nigga left up out of the house and still hadn't gotten home by the time I left to drop Jaylen at daycare this morning.

But whatever!

I step back from him. Booty eyes me, then sits back down in my
chair. I snap the cape back around her neck, turning on the clippers. “I'm still doing Cassandra's hair.”

He looks Booty up and down. “Her shit looks done to me. What's good, Cass?”

She igs him.

Stax and I exchange uneasy glances. I shift my eyes from his.

“What's good, Pash. How you?”

“I'm good.” I catch him eyeing me through the mirror.

“That's wassup.” He speaks to Booty. She speaks back.

“Oh, that's the only muhfucka you see?” Jasper says to her. “You can't speak, yo? That's how you doin' it now?”

“Nigga-coon,
boom!”
she finally says, rolling her eyes at him. “Ya ass is invisible, darkie; with ya ole lyin'-ass self. You trick-niggas kill me. Annnnywaaay, Stax. When you gonna stop all these games, boo, ‘n' let me put this booty heat up on you?”

He laughs. Tells her she's shot out. I shake my head, chuckling.

Jasper mutters something under his breath, then asks her when was the last time she'd seen JT around. And that sets her switch off. She goes from zero to a hundred. The whole shop gets quiet listening to her snap.

“What the fuck you askin' me 'bout
that
nigga-coon for? Do I look like his goddamn secretary to you? I don't keep up with that pussy-bitch. You should be askin' his dumb-ass wife that shit, with her non-dick sucking ass ‘n' dry-ass pussy. I ain't on goddamn coon patrol. Askin' me some shit 'bout his black-ass. When's the last time you fucked that lil Indian-lookin' bitch, huh? Since you wanna ask questions ‘n' shit.”

I blink.
She must be talking about Chanel.
Chanel's a chick from Brooklyn who'd come into my salon a few times to get her hair done. But the last time she was here, Cassandra caught Jasper
winking at her, and Miss Lady giving him the “you-can-get-it-on-the-sly” eyes. And of course, Booty put them both on blast.

Jasper glares at her. I can see the muscles in his jaws tightening. Booty has definitely hit a nerve. She slides a hand down in her bag. “Nigga, I wish you'd even think it.”

“This fuckin' bitch,” he mumbles. “Let me get the fuck away from her triflin' ass before I do some crazy shit. Yo, Pash, let me holla at you.” He walks off toward my office, leaving Booty cranked all the way up on high.

“Nigga-bitch, get crazy. Do me, nigga. And do me right, goddammit! You
know
I got your motherfuckin' card, nigga. And that shit's 'bout to get punched real quick, bitch.”

I shoot Booty a look to get her to shut her fucking mouth. She has the whole shop on pause, catching an ear-and-eyeful.

“Damn, Cass, relax, baby,” Stax says, walking behind her. He starts massaging her shoulders. “Why you spazz out like that, yo?”

“You know I can't stand Jasper's goddamn ass. And that nigga stays tryna do me. Oooh, that feels so good, sugah-boo. Oooh, yes, thug daddy, do me right, goddammit. Now
you
on the other hand, boo-thang, can do me all night. Oooh, you so goddamn fiiine, Stax. You make my cootie-coo whistle e'ery time I see you, boo. I don't know why you bein' stingy with the dingdong. All I want is me a lil taste, boo. I'm not tryna keep it.”

He laughs, stopping his mini-massage and walking away from in back of the chair, quickly cutting his eyes over at me. “Yo, Cass, chill, ma. You shot out, yo.”

“Mmmph. Shot out hell. I only wanna shot of that cum juice, boo. I ain't ever been one to sip on the slut-juice, but I'll toss a bucket of it back for you for some of that love cream, boo. Yess,
FahverGawd,
I sure will.”

Stax is cracking up. “Yo, Cass, I ain't fuckin' wit' you, ma. You wild as hell, yo.”

“I ain't playin', Stax. You need to let me drop down on that dingaling one good time. Put this heat all up on them balls.”

I shake my head amazed at how she can go from one extreme to the next in the blink of an eye. She has practically everyone in tears laughing at her antics.

“Cass, I can't with you, girl.”

“Pasha, what the fuck, yo!” Jasper yells out.

I frown.
Oh this nigga has really lost his mind!
I take a deep breath, keep my focus on finishing up Booty's neck. I shut the clippers off when I'm done, setting them down. “Give me a sec to go see what this crazy nigga wants,” I say in a hushed tone.

“Mmmph. You good, sugah-boo. I'd make that no-good nigga wait, comin' up in here like he runnin' thangs. Booga-coon,
boom-boom!
You ain't it.”

Some bitches are born crazy. Others just snap…

I
walk into my office and find Jasper sitting on the edge of my desk, looking extra tight. His legs are stretched out, arms folded tight across his chest. I shut the door.

I swear this nigga's bipolar.

I take a deep breath. “Okay, Jasper, what do you need to say that couldn't wait?”

“Yo, why the fuck is Cass's ass sittin' up in this muhfucka? You know that bitch likes to keep shit stirred up, yo. That trouble-makin' bitch stays runnin' her muthafuckin' trap, yo. She ain't gonna be satisfied 'til a muhfucka knocks her lights out.”

Yeah, like you did to me! And like JT's ass tried to do to her! Only difference, his black ass is dead.

“Look, Jasper. Don't start. Cassandra is a good customer, a loyal one at that. And she pays top dollar for my services, so don't come up in here disrespecting her or tryna mess with my money.”

“Fuck outta here wit' that dumb shit, yo. I asked that bitch one simple question ‘n' she come outta her fuckin' neck at me all sideways.”

“Well, why in the world would you be asking
her
of all people about JT?” I ask, feigning ignorance. “You still haven't heard anything?”

He sneers. “Yo, why the fuck you think I asked her dumb-ass? If I heard from the nigga, do you think I woulda asked that bitch? That bitch disrespected me, and ya dumb-ass ain't even check her on it.”

Let me hurry up and get this motherfucker up out of here before I go off!

I bite down on my bottom lip. Count to ten in my head. He stuffs his hand down into his front pocket, pulling out a wad of bills. He peels off three Benjamins, flicking them at me like I'm some stripper bitch.

“Here's ya top dollar for ya services, yo. Tell that ghetto-ass bitch this is her last time up in this muhfucka. 'Cause the next time I come up in this muhfucka ‘n' that bitch comes at me crazy, I'ma have her fuckin' neck snapped.”

I slam my hand up on my hip. I've had enough! “Nigga, you must be on that shit. Don't come up in here making those kinds of threats. You better go back outside and read the sign. It's
Nappy No More,
nigga. Not
Jasper's
. So don't come at me like it's your name up on the sign. You might
think
you run shit at home. But you
don't
run shit up in here.”

“Yeah, aiight, yo. I'ma take it to ya mouth real quick, yo. I'm tellin' you, yo. I'm not in the mood for ya shit. You 'bout to catch it, Pasha. Keep poppin' shit, ya heard?”

I tilt my head. “Jasper, you know what? I'm done with your threats. Do what you gonna do and be done with it. You can't do no more to me than what you've already done, nigga. Now what do you need to
holla
at me about? This is my place of business and I have clients to tend to.”

He stands, walking over to me. “Yeah, aiight, whatever, yo. Take them drawers off, yo. I want some pussy.”

I give him a disgusted look. “Nigga, I don't think so. I'm not your fucking whore. Those days are over. I
let
you fuck me when I got back from California. But this pussy is no longer on the menu for you. And I mean that.”