Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
Within five minutes of finding a table in front of the middle stage, a server approaches.
She is practically naked, wearing a red lace bra and thong.
After placing tiny square napkins and a small, two-sided drink menu in front of them, she yells over the loud music.
The bass is so pronounced Sunjiya feels it vibrating the legs of her chair.
“Two-drink minimum for each of you. What you want?” the server asks with a hint of unprovoked attitude.
Because he never drinks on a job, Akeem opts for a bottle of water but Sunjiya’s nerves are on edge. Her heart rate has increased and she has so much unwanted nervous energy. She needs alcohol, so she points to the picture of the delicious looking drink on the tiny menu, a Blue Motherfucker.
As if orchestrated, the moment their server turns to walk off, the bass drops, the minimal lights fade even more, and the DJ announces the opening act before the headliner.
Lazy’s popular trio—Kandi, Cherry, and Honey, known as Sugar Rush—grace the three stages and start their seductive pole routine.
Sunjiya watches them perform but Akeem surveys their surroundings.
The club is packed and the dingy floor is faded under the piles of money thrown.
It’s a whole ass vibe. The music, the girls on the poles, and the sight of bills blessing the girls on stage and in each section is infectious.
Sunjiya finds herself reaching into her tote and making it rain on Honey.
She’s out, dressed cute as hell, and actually enjoying herself.
She’s oblivious that the server has just returned with their drinks and a private dancer has stepped in front of Akeem.
“You want a dance, daddy?” the beautiful, thick dancer leans in and whispers into Akeem’s ear.
The goal of this visit is to check the spot out, figure out its connection to Tanjaya, and hopefully leave with valuable information that will lead them to her.
To accomplish this, Akeem has to be strategic.
While he can’t get caught up like Sunjiya, he also can’t appear rigid.
He’s in a strip club with ass and titties in his face.
He has to play the part of the average man here.
After grabbing a few twenties from one of the stacks on the table, he places them in the trim of her thong.
“After my drink, bring your fine ass back and I’ll be ready,” he assures her in his sexy baritone and she feels his words roll down her spine.
“Oh, I’ll definitely be back,” she damn near purrs before walking off.
He taps Sunjiya lightly to let her know her drink has arrived.
She turns and smiles when she sees the tall glass.
The sparkling blue drink with a pineapple slice on the rim is deceptively pretty, disguising the shot of gin and double shot of tequila.
However, the minute the first sip glides down her throat, she feels it.
“Shit,” she utters. I should have gotten something to eat before we came here.
The last thing and only food she had today was their earlier meal.
She didn’t even indulge in the complementary fruit and cookie biscuits on the plane.
The lack of food in her belly doesn’t stop her from taking another sip though because her drink tastes as good as it looks.
On the stage furthest from them, Honey eyes Sunjiya. When she slid down her pole and landed into a split, a familiar side profile caught her eye. She almost lost the beat of the song when she saw her.
Tanjaya? Is that my girl? she thinks as the DJ transitions to the last song of their set.
Although her mind is filled with excitement, hope, and wonder, she manages to catch the beat and seamlessly get back into the routine.
She transitions from her split to her knees then salaciously bounces her ass to the beat.
Money rains down on her, covering the stage.
She glances back over her shoulder and locks eyes with Sunjiya.
Shit! That is her! Honey thinks while smiling from ear to damn ear.
The last time she’d seen Tanjaya was four months ago and she had been bad, real bad.
When she left and didn’t call or answer any texts, Honey feared the worst. She thought Marcelin had finally killed her friend.
Seeing her tonight is everything, every-freaking-thing.
As soon as her set ends, she gathers her cash and rushes to the back.
As usual, Miss Kat—Ano’s oldest sister who they affectionately call their dance mom—stands at the door holding a money bag.
Honey stuffs her bills from the floor inside then pulls the additional ones from her body.
Money gets stuffed everywhere by the patrons as she dances.
She takes her money to her locker, secures it inside, then dries her sweaty body with the towel.
Within ten minutes, she’s back on the main floor, heading toward Tanjaya.
Honey is fine. Her curvaceous body is the blueprint for many surgeons in Miami.
So when she’s on the floor, it’s a big deal.
As she makes her way to the table, several men try to grab the back of her arm, snake their arms around her waist, and even grope her ass, but she curves each attempt.
She’s on a mission, and for once, the money can wait.
Tanjaya, her girl, is alive, looking good, and back here.
As soon as Honey’s near her table, she practically falls onto Sunjiya. Her arms latch around Sunjiya’s body and she holds her as tightly as her arms will allow.
“Bitch,” Honey says affectionately. “I’m so happy to see yo’ ass.
” Emotion floods her entire body. “You got away,” she cries.
In the middle of a packed strip club, over loud music, Honey cries and embraces her friend.
The exchange surprises Akeem, and based on Sunjiya’s peaked eyebrows, he guesses it’s a shock to her as well.
“Let’s go outside,” Honey whispers before releasing Sunjiya and extending her hand.
Because this—her—could be the lead they need, Akeem nods for Sunjiya to go.
While she grabs her tote and stands, Akeem gathers the remaining cash on the table and stands too.
He’s ten steps behind them as they walk through the club toward the private rooms in the back.
Honey glances back at them a few times but when she realizes her girl seems cool with him, she shrugs it off.
“Lil Mike, they are both with me,” she says to the guard standing in front of the chipped, white-painted door.
Lil Mike’s frame is mammoth. He’s six-foot seven and over three hundred fifty pounds. While sex is allowed and encouraged in the private rooms, the girls are always protected. If any nigga gets out of pocket, Lil Mike is one of the first to handle him.
“Cool but that door doesn’t open until I get the tax,” he says. It’s two-fifty to the house to enter the room. The girls can charge whatever they want after that. Since Honey has two people with her, the house fee doubles.
Honey turns back to face Akeem. “He needs five hunnid,” she tells him and Akeem peels the bills from his stash. Once they are recounted by Lil Mike, he opens the door and nods for them to enter.
The room is dark, dank, and minimally furnished.
Faint smells of sex and weed dominate the small space.
Aside from a full-size bed, there are two-fold out chairs, a small dresser that houses sanitizing and feminine wipes, condoms, and disinfectant spray.
Honey steps toward the dresser, grabs the spray, and dispenses enough to make Sunjiya cough.
Nobody sits; they all stand, Honey and Sunjiya by the chairs and Akeem posted by the door.
“Tan, I thought you were dead. Shit! You did it. Yo’ ass finally did it but how? And where the fuck have you been? I was so worried,” she fires off while holding Sunjiya’s hands.
As if it pains her to speak, Sunjiya drops her shoulders, flashes a wry smile, then says, “I’m not Tanjaya.”
“Girl,” Honey sighs. “It’s me.” Her head snaps back to Akeem, then she leans in closer to Sunjiya and utters, “Are you scared to talk in front of him? ’Cause all I have to do is knock on this wall and you know Lil Man will come handle him.”
“No. No. He’s fine,” Sunjiya assures Honey.
Honey turns back to Akeem and looks him over skeptically, from his head to his Timbs.
She’s very familiar with Marcelin and his tactics.
He never let Tanjaya get five feet from him without a damn gun-toting babysitter.
Even when he forced her to come to places like this, he sent one of his goons to watch her every move.
“Then why you lying?” Honey asks, confused as hell.
“I’m not,” Sunjiya says solemnly. “She’s my twin and I’m looking for her. I’m Sunjiya.”
Honey’s hold on Sunjiya’s arms tightens and she leans in closer.
Is this bitch serious? Twins? Not once in the two years she’s known Tanjaya has she ever mentioned any family, much less a damn twin sister.
This has to be some trick shit, something to get her away from Marcelin. This is Tan. I know it.
“Tan, it’s me. You don’t have to do this shit,” Honey assures her.
“I’m sorry. I’m really Sunjiya, her sister, and I need to find her. I think she’s in trouble. I really, really need your help,” Sunjiya says clearly.
Honey peers into her eyes for what feels like forever before dropping her hands from Sunjiya’s arms. A million and one things sprint through her mind, too many too damn fast. Confused as fuck, she slowly shakes her head as she plops down on one of the chairs.
Unable to keep her normally perfect posture, her body slouches.
Her eyes lift to the woman claiming not to be her friend then toward the man at the door.
When they make it back to Sunjiya, she sighs loud as hell.