Authors: Treasure Hernandez
A King is Born (6 page)
Tasha gave Keesha a slight smile and then cut her short. “All right, girl, let me get out here and make some of this money. You know how Sweets is if we come up short.”
“All right then, girl. But remember what I saidâif you ever need to talk, I'm here.”
Now Tasha was the one painting on the fake smile, making Keesha think she'd gotten one step closer to her world. “Thanks, girl. I really appreciate it.”
Tasha thought of Halleigh tied up and hurt somewhere as she exited the dressing room. A part of her wanted to smile inside and just say, “Fuck it! That's what she gets. What goes around comes around.”
But the part of her that had connected with Halleigh from years of friendship wouldn't allow her to do so. Tasha couldn't help but feel guilt, knowing Halleigh was caught up in a dangerous situation. Tasha had always been protective of Halleigh, and felt as though she should do something to help her.
Chapter Seven
A
s Tasha received her introduction and stepped onto the stage, the thunderous applause put her mind back on her money and off Halleigh's predicament. Besides, she was no longer Halleigh's keeper, so why should she care what happened to her?
s Tasha received her introduction and stepped onto the stage, the thunderous applause put her mind back on her money and off Halleigh's predicament. Besides, she was no longer Halleigh's keeper, so why should she care what happened to her?
A Plies joint cranked from the DJ booth, and Tasha began to wind her body slowly. She slowly removed the fishnet cover-up she had over her skimpy two-piece neon-green thong set. With every slow wind, the two-piece appeared to be dancing in mid-air under the lights. It looked like a magic show as men became mesmerized and enthralled and money flew onto the stage.
Tasha was tempted to work the pole. She hadn't danced since she was twenty years old and didn't want to risk looking crazy, but that didn't keep her from working it out. She knew sliding down the pole would land her even more money. Dudes loved it when females did tricks on the pole. Now twenty-six, her body was just as flawless as it had been from the beginning.
Even with all the dollars flying on stage, and all the whooping and hollering going on around her by the men enjoying her set, Tasha's mind still somehow managed to drift back to Halleigh. She tried closing her eyes and continued to move her body sensually, focusing on the music that the DJ was spinning. That worked for a minute, but Halleigh's face kept popping up in her head.
She tried desperately to shake the thoughts, but she just couldn't. She could no longer hear the lyrics to the music playing, but instead heard these words dancing around in her head:
Didn't Halleigh fuck Mitch back in the day ? Will he really hurt her?
Tasha was trying to convince herself that Halleigh wasn't her business. She didn't even know why she cared after the snake shit Halleigh pulled, but she had to admit, she was worried.
Didn't Halleigh fuck Mitch back in the day ? Will he really hurt her?
Tasha was trying to convince herself that Halleigh wasn't her business. She didn't even know why she cared after the snake shit Halleigh pulled, but she had to admit, she was worried.
After hearing stories of how Mitch got down in the streets, she knew Halleigh was in danger. Mitch could be outright ruthless when it came down to it. Tasha didn't even know if there was anything she could do without getting caught up and even landing her a spot in that basement right next to Halleigh.
Tasha continued to try to convince herself not to interfere with whatever Mitch had going on. She kept going back and forth.
Why should I put my ass on the line for her? She's a fake bitch, and I'm tired of playing captain save-a-fuckin'-ho. Where has she been since Maury died ? When I needed her, she was ghost with Malek. Nobody matters to her but him, so let his ass save her.
Why should I put my ass on the line for her? She's a fake bitch, and I'm tired of playing captain save-a-fuckin'-ho. Where has she been since Maury died ? When I needed her, she was ghost with Malek. Nobody matters to her but him, so let his ass save her.
Just the thought of Malek all of a sudden had Tasha wondering where Malek was at, and why he'd allow Mitch to pull off something like this.
Where's her knight in shining armor when she really needs his ass ?
Where's her knight in shining armor when she really needs his ass ?
Tasha was so busy thinking about Halleigh and Malek, she didn't even hear her song stop. Only after the second time the DJ called out to her, finally getting her attention, did she realize her set was over.
Keesha stood at the side of the stage, tapping her foot with an attitude, waiting for her to get off the stage so she could make her paper. “So you leaving all that for me?” Keesha asked sarcastically, motioning her head to the money Tasha was leaving on the stage that the men in the club had thrown her way.
“Oh, yeah, the money,” Tasha said, somewhat in a daze as she went and scooped it all up.
“I should have let her ass keep it moving,” Keesha said under her breath, not knowing why she'd brought it to Tasha's attention. Keesha knew sooner or later it would have dawned on Tasha, and she would have hated to have to kick her ass over a few dollars.
When Tasha had finally scooped up all of her money and made her way off stage, she went back to the dressing room to change into another outfit. She still had to work the crowd, and most importantly, the VIP. She wanted to be fresh. A stinking bitch is a broke bitch in the strip club, so she carried feminine wipes and body spray to make sure she was always on point.
He's going to kill her,
she thought as she quickly changed, still thinking about Halleigh. She leaned her head against her locker and inhaled deeply. Tasha's pride didn't want her to intervene, but her heart was all in. She tried hard to side with her mind, but her heart prevailed.
He's going to kill her,
she thought as she quickly changed, still thinking about Halleigh. She leaned her head against her locker and inhaled deeply. Tasha's pride didn't want her to intervene, but her heart was all in. She tried hard to side with her mind, but her heart prevailed.
“Fuck it!” Tasha said out loud to herself. “That bitch is fake, but that's the difference between me and her. I'm a real bitch, and real bitches do real things.” Tasha kept up the conversation with herself while she freshened up. “If I didn't know, then it wouldn't be my fault, but I have to help her now. I can't just do nothing. Now I just have to figure out how I'm going to get her away from Mitch.”
At that moment, Keesha walked into the dressing room, her skin glossed with sweat. It was obvious she had just come off stage. “The ballers are up in this piece tonight,” she exclaimed. She started counting out a mound of money.
Tasha didn't reply. Her mind was on figuring out a way to get to Halleigh.
“You a'ight?” Keesha asked Tasha. “Your mind seems to be in a whole 'nother world. It must be, for you to walk off the stage and leave all your loot.”
“Yeah, girl, I'm good,” Tasha replied in the nicest voice she could muster up.
As real as she liked to believe she was, she knew she had to play the role of fake friend with Keesha. Keesha was her only hope, the only link to finding out exactly where Halleigh was being held hostage, and how to get to her.
“You know what?” Tasha said in a perky voice. “It has been a rough day, but I need to get my mind right and go make this money. Hurry up and change, so we can work these niggas in VIP.”
Tasha was no longer in bitch mode. She was in pimp mode. Working underneath Manolo for all of those years, she had learned a thing or two. Keesha had met her match. Tasha, about to pimp the information she needed out of Keesha like a pro, all of a sudden was best girlfriends with Keesha.
“Girl, you ain't said nothing but a word,” Keesha said. “Let's go!” Keesha knew that Tasha would eventually come around and learn to accept that she was now top dog. Like the saying goes, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em. She was glad that Tasha realized the real and decided to climb on board, and had no problem with her sudden change in attitude.
The two women exited the locker room, and Tasha led the way to VIP, dudes grabbing at her left and right along the way, trying to buy her a drink. Ordinarily, Tasha might have stopped and let a dude buy her a drink or two, considering she made even more money off the drinks. Whenever the dudes bought the girls a drink, the cost of the drink was split with the bar 60/40 in the dancer's favor. And the drinks for the dancers started at a ten-dollar minimum.
Tasha was headed straight to where the ballers played. They would go deep, with their drink minimum starting at one hundred dollars. With VIP full, she wasn't looking for a nigga with shallow pockets, and not for her own sake this time, but surprisingly, for Halleigh.
Tasha needed someone that could bait Keesha without hesitation. Money definitely couldn't be an object for that someone, which was sure to grab Keesha hook, line, and sinker. She knew Keesha needed to do the pickup for Mitch and Sweets, but if everything went as planned, Keesha would hand the job off to her and try to make a couple dollars out of one of the club's patrons.
Tasha knew that she had to attract the guy because Keesha wasn't “snag-a-hustler” material. Her body was nice, but came a dime a dozen in the hood. Her face was cute, but her nose was big as hell. She definitely wasn't model material. She was what one would call average. Nothing about her was extraordinary. Most girls with average faces made up for it with humongous assets like big butts, or nice breasts, but Keesha was lacking in both departments.
But Tasha had to give the girl credit. She got her share of dudes. Tasha knew Keesha's appeal had a lot to do with the rumors that she would do it anytime, anyplace, anyhowâfor the right price, of course. She had the same tag line as Burger King; the dudes could have it their way with her.
Upon arriving in VIP, Tasha quickly spotted her “vic” in the crowd. Actually, he spotted her, grabbing her by the waist as she walked by, catching his finger in her thong.
Tasha slapped his hands away playfully. “You've got to pay to play this game, baby, but it's the best ride you'll ever get. Worth every cent,” Tasha said, Keesha right beside her.
Tasha didn't have to worry about Keesha jacking her game, because there wasn't a bitch alive that could game a nigga like she could. Her swag came from years of practice. She had been got by many a nigga before she flipped the roles and started getting them. When she first got in the game, dudes used to basically throw at her whatever they felt like, because they could tell she was fresh meat. But that didn't last long. She quickly wised up, and started taking dudes for everything they and their wives had. It was her suaveness, loyalty, and dedication that convinced Manolo that she should be top dog, pulling her from working the streets to being in charge of the other girls.
But that was back then and this was now. Even so, Tasha was seasoned through and through, a thorough broad who didn't have to try too hard to get what she wanted. Her sex appeal was natural; she never had to force anyone's hand. Niggas flocked to her like flies flocked to shit, and it was all because of her confidence.
Tasha could be standing next to Buffie the Body, Melyssa Ford, or any other industry chick, and intimidation would still be foreign to her. If she wasn't the baddest bitch in the room when she entered, by the time she exited, everyone would know her name. It was all about her aura, the way she carried herself, and her confidence levelâthe make-up of a true diva.
She was always on top, and another chick could never outshine her. Tasha was wifey material on the outside. God had blessed her when he had molded her. But nobody was perfect, and she had her flaws about her.
Flint was small, and her promiscuous past had tainted her. Even though Tasha may have appeared to be wifey material on the outside, no man wanted to turn a ho into a housewife. As notorious as a Manolo Mami might have been, in good old-fashioned street terms, she was still considered a ho. So instead of being wifey, she was always the side chick that niggas came to when they needed some relief from the nagging ways of their main squeeze.
Tasha resented the choices she'd made in her life. She wished she could have turned back the hands of time to the beginning of her adolescence, the time when her life got crazy and she'd slipped into the clutches of Manolo. She couldn't blame it all on Manolo, though. Even though he was her pimp, he had her head because she allowed him to have it. She had always been a strong, independent woman. That's why anybody who knew Tasha back in her high school days couldn't believe she was doing the things she was known for doing today.
Back in high school, Tasha ran with the popular clique, a group of chicks that was not only beautiful, but brilliant, and stayed on the honor roll. Her teachers never had a single problem with her. Co-captain of the drill team, she'd earned varsity letters for drill team competitions. She knew she was all that, and never needed anyone to tell her, especially a man, which was why she, herself, couldn't believe she was in the predicament she was in today, turning tricks for the VIP in a strip club.
“Yo, ma, money ain't a thing,” the dude in VIP told Tasha. “I got it to spend, if it's worth it. I'm trying to see you tonight after everything settle down,” he said, looking her up and down and licking his lips. “What's your name?”
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