Chapter Twenty-One
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The Final Dance of the Jezebel
…Later that evening
N adia stood in a black and silver see-through bra with red lace trim and matching G-string with diamonds around the waist. Thigh high black leather boots gripped her legs like a vise. She paced around her small dressing room that smelled of roses from over a dozen farewell bouquets as music thumped from the walls and vibrated her soul. ‘Demons,’ by Doja Cat. She sat down for a moment and reapplied her matte dark red lipstick. This moment in time was bittersweet. Like chocolate with a touch of lemon. It would be her last time on that stage…
She glanced in the direction of her closed dressing room door. The curtain drawn taut. Her name was written on the wall in bright pink nail polish, along with the names of a host of other girls that had come and gone before her. Twirling a strand of her cherry-scented hair, she fell softly into a daydream .
No more pounding, sexy music. No more dizzying flashing lights. No more gyrating for a crowd full of sexually crazed men who have money to spend and fantasies to unfold.
But it was time. Time to dig up the pain and heal. Time to bury the hatchet. Time to forgive Daddy and create her own sense of closure. Time to show Mama how to love and forgive her for not loving her in the way she and her brother needed. Time to absolve herself of her bad decisions. Time to get revenge when warranted, and have no regrets. Time to allow love into her life—and she did. Love’s name was Lennox…
She went over the conversation she’d had with her man before coming into work and read the writing on the wall—only it wasn’t written in lipstick or fingernail polish. It was written in the smolder of gun smoke. She was no fool.
Nadia reached for a glass of sparkling water with a wedge of lime floating atop it, and took a meager sip.
Mothafucka thinks he’s slick. Lennox wanted to double check that I could defend myself and wasn’t just talkin’ shit. See it with his own eyes.
In fact, as soon as she drove into that parking lot, she knew the fuckery was about to commence, and that Lennox was burdened with a doozy. Once he told her the reality of the situation, she refused to admit to him that she was a little unsettled by the prospect of this powerful, ruthless White man who used guerilla and gangster type tactics to get his way, and stay in power. She tried with all of her might to exhibit a brave face, but she wrestled with the information. A knot formed in her gut.
If Lennox is the good guy, as violent and crazed as he could be, what would that make Grandpa Wilde? Life is lifing…
She shook the thoughts out of her head and came back into the moment when she heard a new song begin: ‘Enough,’ by Cardi B. She got to her feet, shook imaginary dust off her shoulders, and made her way out of her dressing room to get blinded by blue and purple spinning lights. To her left she saw someone practically hugging the wall. She turned and met eyes with ‘Lady Lick’, AKA, Lydia, one of the young women she’d taken under her wing. Lydia stood there in a bedazzled navy-blue leotard with the tits and crotch cut out, her long black curly hair clipped up in the back, and beads of perspiration and glitter covering her shoulders and breasts.
“Oh, Lydia.” She took the woman into her arms once she caught her lower lip quivering and tears welling in her eyes. “Don’t cry, girl.” She smiled into her hair, stroking her. “Stop. You’re gonna make me cry, too.”
“I’mma miss you, Nadia.”
“I’m going to miss you too, baby.” She pulled away and looked into deep set, dark brown eyes.
“You’ve been so nice to me. You were the only one that talked to me when I first got here.”
“I told you they did you like that because some of these hoes saw you as competition.” She pointed in the direction of the stage. “Your face is gorgeous, your body is bangin’, you can dance your ass off, you don’t need no BBL, and you’re smart, girl. Those things together make you a threat. You betta believe it.”
Lydia had lost her mother at an early age, and had been raised by her grandmother in a house full of boys. As such, she’d experienced hardly any discipline and had to learn to fight. A budding flower in a garden of broken sprinklers. She ran the streets, looking for love in all the wrong places.
“Thank you for always keepin’ it real with me, but being nice about it, too.”
“Don’t nobody lose no sleep over someone they can beat with their eyes closed. I can keep it all the way funky without bein’ a bitch, if I choose to. At the end of the day, we all gotta answer for the shit that we do. I ain’t your mama, but I know I was supposed to step in where she couldn’t. God rest her soul. It’s time for you to leave the nest. Now you take heed regarding what I told you a long time ago, okay?”
She placed her hand on the young lady’s shoulder. Lydia nodded and wiped at her tear-streaked face.
“I will, Nadia.”
“You go on and follow your dreams. You still want to be a medical esthetician, right?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then I better see you do it. I want to be right there when you graduate. This is a steppin’ stone, Lydia. Never forever-land. There’s nothing wrong with dancing, but for women like you and me, it’s supposed to be temporary. Never make this place yo’ home. Out there ain’t good for you, ’cause it ain’t real.” She pointed towards the platform from behind the curtain. “Nothin’ we do in this place changes the world on a big-scale basis, but this place changes our world forever. Keep the mission in mind. What is it? Say it back to me. E.L.B.”
“To entertain, line our pockets, then bounce. ”
“You’re damn right. You get yo’ money up and put deposits down. Watch the weed and the alcohol, and never do any hard drugs. A little wine goes a long way, don’t overdo it. I used to smoke cigarettes for a few years, then I started with the e-cigarettes, but now I do that, like, once every week or so. I’m not addicted, and that’s important. Watch your vices. It’ll do you in if you use it for a crutch. It’ll make you too comfortable and allow you to run from your feelings, rather than face them.”
“I gotta lotta bad feelings about stuff, but I’m getting better.”
Nadia leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “Honey, bad feelings never go away. They just take naps, baby. Then they wake up refreshed and stronger than ever, ready to do us in when we least expect it. Best to deal with it instead of runnin’ away. Hell, I don’t have it all figured out, but I at least have a plan, and I’m trying. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to try to do a little bit better, day by day.”
“You give the best advice.” Lydia offered a sad smile. “You’re my favorite therapist,” she joked.
“I’m not a therapist, but I know a little something-something because I’ve lived it. Now, here’s the last thing I’m going to say to you about this, girl. Give yourself a firm deadline on this here vocation. When that deadline comes up, you stick to it, no matter what, and don’t you look back. When the milk is expired, don’t keep chuggin’. You hear me, girl?”
“Yes ma’am!” The woman sniffed before thrusting herself back into her arms .
“Don’t let me find out your ass is still here, Lydia, or any club for that matter, two years from now.”
“I won’t be here. I promise.”
Nadia blinked back tears as she held her in her arms. “Now, you’ve got my number. Call me anytime.” They embraced tightly, and she patted her crown as she rested her chin atop the young woman’s head. She reluctantly broke free, and then faced the closed black velvet curtain. The odors of dense smoke and perfume surrounded her as her heart fluttered. She nodded to one of the bodyguards, letting him know she was ready.
Moments later, Megan Thee Stallion’s, ‘BOA’ began to play. Nadia went to move, but was halted when a swarm of some of the other ladies wrapped their arms around her and hugged her.
The words, “…and now, comin’ to the stage, for the final curtain call, is blaaaaaack and beautiful, Veeeeeelvet!’ were yelled out from the DJ.
“BITCH, YO’ TIME UP!” she yelled as she burst onto the stage, full of energy and charged with passion. She descended towards the middle of the stage, squatted down low, and rocked her hips from left to right as she mouthed the words to the melody. The tune blended into ‘KEHLANI,’ by Jordan Adetunji. She slowed down as she got to her feet and made her way to the shiny silver pole adorned with lights at the very top and bottom.
She jumped on the pole and twisted her body around it. Faster and faster she went until she was all the way at the top. The crowd of men broke out in whistles and applause as she worked her way back down like a snake, her tongue flicking in and out, and a look of dangerous seduction on her face. Once she hit the floor, she danced, bucked, spun, and gyrated with all of her might.
Her long clear nails wrapped around the pole as she spun around on it upside down, driving the crowd crazy. While she worked it, she removed her top and tossed it on the floor. Her full breasts sparkled from all the perfume oil and glitter she’d applied, bouncing with each maneuver. She made her way to the front of the stage, taking in the usual suspects who showered her with ten, twenty, fifty, and hundred dollar bills, sending her off in style.
As she moved her hips and bent down, she looked between her legs and noticed one man who seemed out of place. And then another, a few feet behind him. The two men didn’t favor nor look familiar, but they had a similar vibe…
She replayed Lennox’s words in her mind.
She kept dancing, her eye on the tall, thin White guy with a dark baseball cap. A dude who’d never been there. The other guy was wearing a button-down shirt and jeans—he also looked way out of place. He stood in the back looking about, as if he’d lost a friend in the crowd.
White guys were not the norm in this club, but they did show up from time to time. They were either older gentlemen—big ballers who had a penchant for Black, Asian, and Latina pussy, and often had a wife with these attributes back home. Or they could be curious freaks trying to get their dicks wet from some dark meat in a secret fantasy, then go to church the next morning with their White families to sing church hymns and talk shit about ‘the ghetto Black folk’ ruining the country.
These guys though did not fit those descriptions. Something about the one closest to the stage smelled off…
She could see his bright, steely blue eyes reflecting like a cat’s in some dark alley, and didn’t miss the bulge in his right pocket. A boiling rage burned inside of her and spread to her heart, making it thump loud and hard. She spun around and around, shimmying and shaking as A Boogie Wit da Hoodie’s ‘Body,’ featuring Cash Cobain, blasted through the speakers.
A few big spenders approached, their fingers adorned with mammoth diamond and emerald rings, and shoved crisp money in her G-string, administering rugged caresses on her legs. Deep voices close to her ear yelled nasty shit over the music. Some though uttered kind farewells.
“Take care, baby girl! Do this last dance for big daddy!”
“Velvet, you got my heart. On soul! Ride out, queen!”
“You da baddest bitch, baby!”
“I wish I coulda fucked yo’ pretty ass. I been tryin’ for months! It’s too late now, but I’mma send you out in style!”
The song began to fade, and she was surrounded by dense cigar smoke, dull purple lights, and her last performance high. She stood covered in cash, drowning in dinero, her bare breasts heaving as sweat collected between her cleavage. Her adrenaline pumped as she eyed the White ninja who’d skulked to the other side of the room. Turning her attention away from him, she looked into the eyes of her patrons for the final time. The DJ walked over and handed her the microphone.
“Thank y’all for lettin’ me entertain you tonight, and all the nights before now. We’ve shared some moments in time, and I hope that I was at least able to brighten your evening. It’s been a pleasure.” The mob gushed with accolades and applause. “I’m leaving, but my gang-gang still here, givin’ y’all the show of a lifetime.” The eruption of feminine voices commenced with happy screams and clapping hands. “Bosses and kings, make sure y’all treat these ladies standin’ behind me right,” she stated breathlessly. “They work hard for the money, and they deserve every dime. These are dancers. Real dancers. The best of the fuckin’ best. We took classes for this shit. Invested in it, so that you could be entertained the way you deserve to be.
“We’re professionals, so show my sistas some respect in the form of a smile and an open wallet.” More applause broke out from some of the ladies. “Some of y’all are real stand-up dudes. And I appreciate you, more than you know. I’m gone but I could never be forgotten. Blow the whistle! Velvet has left the building!”
With that, she tossed down the mic and raised her arm, pointing to the ceiling as men jumped to their feet, tossing more money on the stage and clapping. Some of the ladies jumped on the stage with her and grabbed the cash, handing it to her or stuffing it in her boots or G-string. The DJ came with the broom, sweeping the rest of the money in a nice, neat pile. She felt glossy kisses on her face, warm hugs and yells of excitement. The feminine energy was a beautiful thing. A beautiful vibe. A beautiful night.
After a few more hugs and teary-eyed goodbyes, she went back to her dressing room with her bags of money, and quickly disrobed. Instead of taking her attire with her, she set it aside for Lydia, jotting a quick note for her:
You’re a little shorter and thinner than me, baby girl, but I bet with a bit of tailoring you can wear my outfits. Some of ’em cost hundreds of dollars. I am leaving them to you. She decided to keep the one she wore this evening for herself. Sentimental reasons. They are dry cleaned and ready for you, with the exception of the one I had on tonight. I will text you my locker combination inside of my changing room so you can get them out. I want you to enjoy them and earn even more money than I did. I don’t need them anymore and soon, you won’t either. Pay it forward when the time comes.
The pulsing music soared through her veins, and her heart was still thumping. She had a sudden urge to vanish, to get out of there, and yet, she was torn. She was missing the place already, and that surprised the hell out of her. Perhaps the reason was because this had to be one of the classier joints she’d ever worked at, and it was where she’d made the most money throughout her entire dancing career.
Standing, she seized her money and locked it away. She grabbed her bath gel, towel and washcloth, as well as her jeans, purse, underwear, shirt and a few odds and ends and stuffed them all in a grocery sack, and made her way out of the dressing room when she was certain that most of the ladies were either dancing, working the floor or VIP room. She walked naked with only her slippers on as she often did, down the back hallway which resembled the posterior of a theatre with scaffolding, large lights, wires, and all, and laughed when one of the few ladies around, Sunshine, a white dancer who loved Black men, Black culture, and jet- black hair, slapped her bare ass and wished her good luck.
There were three open shower stalls in the back area and she quickly secured one, making fast work to scrub and clean all of the bad memories away. All the glitter and the gold disappeared down the drain. The water hid her happy and sad tears that trailed her face. The water hid her pain, but highlighted her rebirth. It, too, was a type of rain.
She heard a bit of muted noise, a ruckus, yelling and arguing of some sort. She couldn’t make out any of the words, but this happened from time to time. Guys getting into it for whatever reason. Alcohol and pussy had a way of making men turn manic. She rinsed her hair and body, blinking to remove a bit of soap from her eyes. It proved to be rather stubborn. She kept working her eye with her finger, and in between rubs, she spotted a blurred, tall, shadowy figure some distance away.
Her heart thundered and a biliousness filled her belly, but she kept running the cloth against her skin, pretending to be oblivious. Then, the footsteps ensued, slow and leisurely, towards her open shower stall. She kept right on going over her skin with the cloth. Around and around. In circles. Slick with water. The rain was coming…
Her hearing and sense of smell became acute as she pressed her eyes shut—the man was so close that she could smell his cologne, a classic scent she couldn’t quite name. She could hear his breathing over the music of the next dancer doing her thing on stage. After keeping her back to him for a second or two longer, she spun around, her burning eyes wide open, her body going hot in a flash.
She held the sopping wet cloth against her stomach with a firm grip as her gaze landed on the resolute sapphire eyes of a demon covered in white flesh. The sinewy man in the ball cap. His eyes darkened, and his mouth bent in a slanted smile. His clean-shaven face exposed a small scar along his chin. His long neck constricted with a tight swallow, like a snake finishing the final taste of his meal.
“Well hello, Nadia.” He leaned leisurely against the side of the stall, his long fingers dangling close to her. “I hope I said your name right. Wouldn’t want to start off on the wrong foot.” His eyes scanned her real slow. “I can see why my big cousin is so fuckin’ smitten with you.”
Her lips parted as she looked towards the open doorway.
“You don’t want to do that. You keep quiet, like a good girl.” He placed his finger to his lips. Her chest heaved, and the invisible rain seemed to be falling down harder on her head now. “If you scream, bitch, then I’ll have to quiet you forever. I’d hate that for Lennox, since he likes to fuck you so much.” He flashed that bump resting against his hip. A revolver.
“Who the hell are you?”
“My name is of no concern to you. All you need to know is that I mean you no harm, sweetheart,” he said in a sing-song voice. “I come in peace. Just here to discuss a little somethin’ is all. It won’t take long. Unless you want it to…” The motherfucker looked her up and down once again, but this time, licked his lips as if waiting for a steak on a grill.
“Ain’t shit we got to discuss.”
“Well, my grandaddy thinks otherwise.” His eyes landed on her breasts, then traveled down to the dark, wet thatch of hair between her legs. She noted his nature rising from beneath his pants, which made her queasy.
“What do you want?”
“Well, I’m glad you asked. You are entangled with some property that belongs to my grandfather. It’s private property, and you’re tresspassin’. But instead of dragging you away by your hair, Grandpa wants to offer you a parting gift instead. The best part is that you can select between two presents. Your choice.”
“Parting gifts?” She stood a bit taller, her eyes never leaving him.
“You can receive three hundred thousand dollars, cold cash, to cut Lennox Wilde loose, and all of your college tuition paid in full, school girl, but the catch is, you must tell Lennox why , right in front of me.” He waved his phone. “And you must never, under any circumstances, call or contact him again after you say your farewell.”
“And the second option?”
“Or, you can go down in flames with him.” He shrugged.
“What about Lennox? What happens to him?”
“Lennox either does what Grandaddy says, or he faces some pretty grisly consequences. Prison. His dead mama’s domestic dishonor. Maybe lose a limb or two. That wouldn’t bode well for his aspirations of ownin’ a gym and all. Not too many folks looking for a one-legged and one-armed personal trainer. Simple as that.”
“And what specifically will happen to me if I don’t want this little partin’ gift? ”
“I’ll be frank with you. If you don’t take this offer, Grandaddy may not kill you, sweetheart—he’s kind of funny about knockin’ off women unless it’s a last resort—but by the time he’s done with you, you’ll wish you were dead. Death would be appreciated. The choice is yours.”
Letting go of the washcloth, it hit the tiled shower floor in a wet thud. As soon as he looked down at it, his life was in the balance. In a split second she had Parton kissing the fucker’s temple. His smirk vanished quicker than a blink of an eye.
Teeth gritted, she leaned in close to him. “You lousy ass son of a bitch… you knew not to approach me in that dressin’ room, didn’t you? Because y’all been spying on me and know I stay strapped. I been standin’ on business before I could walk, mothafucka. You figured you had a golden opportunity to take me on right here in this shower. In my birthday suit. Probably even called your grandaddy to get the green light—couldn’t believe your luck! I can hear y’all talking now, ‘Where the fuck she gonna keep a gun? Up her ass?’ That’s what you thought, ain’t it?!” She cackled as she clicked the gun, pressing it hard against his skull.
“Now hold on, hold on!” He stumbled over his words as he waved his hands. “I’m just the messenger, okay? I’m just—”
“Don’t you move a mothafuckin’ muscle! I see you tryna go for that hip. You let me see that heat on you for a reason. Now it’s my turn!”
“Sweetheart, I—”
“Shut tha fuck up! Talkin’ about you come here in peace, but you about to leave here in pieces! I wrapped my gun up in that rag because somethin’ just didn’t feel right. You a flunky! An old ass evil demon’s errand boy! Can’t think for yourself… too afraid to be your own man, unlike your cousin Lennox. Out here takin’ care of the devil’s work! He’ll use you up, then chew you to mush, and spit yo’ silly ass out. You gotta be at least seven or eight years younger than me… talkin’ to me like I’m your fuckin’ child. Lost yo’ damn mind.”
“I promise you that I—”
“DIDN’T I TELL YOU TO SHUT THE FUCK UP?! You good at following orders. Do what you do best! I could scream right now and have three big black mothafuckas and one Latin fuckin’ King gang member up in here in less than thirty seconds! All of ’em are highly trained security, they’ll come in here and turn you every which way but loose! Pull yo’ damn skeleton out yo’ body in one yank, then mail it to yo’ grandfather in a box, with a note that reads, ‘HERE’S A BONE TO PICK!’ I know what you did, little boy. I heard that scuffle out there…” The man’s eyes, full of fear, darted in the direction of the door. “Y’all shoulda known better. Lennox don’t want no shrinkin’ violet. He loves a thug just like himself… now ya know! Your friend that you dragged in withcha must’ve caused a distraction and forced security to act on the main floor. He started a commotion, sidetracking everyone. That was a cute little plan, but it wasn’t foolproof.
“Now, here’s what you’re going to do. You go on back to ‘Kiss Grandaddy’s Ass Ranch,’ and you tell that dried up, miserable, rhinestone cowboy hat-wearin’ evil mothafuckin’ prune juice drinkin’, raisin in the sun that he got the wrong one this time. He thought Lennox’s mama was a handful? He ain’t seen nothin’ yet… SHAKE! SHAAAAKE!” she hollered at the top of her lungs for one of the members of security. Within seconds, a loud stomping ensued.
The White man looked like he was about to piss himself now. She found it downright comical.
It wasn’t long before a large, broad-shouldered, bald-headed russet-colored man approached them, jogging briskly. Shake lobbed his gaze between her and the stranger, clearly confused for half a second, then grabbed his pistol and pointed it at the bastard, too, his lips drooping like brown candle wax. She lowered her arm, resting her gun at her side, and took a deep breath.
“What’s goin’ on, baby girl?” Poured a low, raspy voice.
“Shake, this mothafucka got lost on his way outta here. Sure he meant no harm. Happens to the best of us. Why don’t you make like Dora, and help him explore the outside?”
“You bet, Velvet.”
The man stiffened as Shake snatched him by the back of his shirt and patted him down, quickly removing the revolver from his hip and slipping it into his own pocket. She turned her back and heard nothing but the young man screaming and pleading for his damn life as he was dragged away from the bathing area.
Shivering, Nadia leaned against the shower stall and closed her eyes. The red rage within her turned thick, coal black. Lennox was the best thing that had happened to her in a long while, and she wasn’t sad that he was going through this. She wasn’t depressed that their love was threatened. No, she was pissed.
She slowly opened her eyes back up and bit her lower lip.
Payback was something she wanted. Revenge was something she needed. Vengeance was something she was going to have. And that was a promise.
We ’bout to kill two birds with one stone, old man. I know Lennox’s plan for you, he told me, and now, I’m about to add another layer to it. One thing about me that must be understood: I’ve been traumatized my whole damn life, and now I’m using it as a weapon, instead of an excuse.
I got that way out of survival, and you best believe, I’m the fittest. I’m no longer drowning and feelin’ sorry for myself in the rain, sir. I’m my Nana’s first granddaughter, and JoAnn’s child, through and through! I’m on the warpath, front and center! I come from queens of the Nile and rulers of the night! Ain’t not ONE weak bitch in my family tree, mothafucka! You better believe me when I tell you. We are fighters! I AM the storm clouds, the thunder, and the gotdamn lightning! God told me don’t fear the rain no more, child! I built you an arc! And on that arc are my warrior ancestors, my man, and my mama and her mama, too! You can’t take me down low, old man, when I’ve already been to hell ’nd back. A hurricane is comin’ yo way, Grandpa Wilde, and ain’t a life jacket, the American Cross, or a prayer from Pope Francis himself going to save you from this tempest called Nadia. ON SOUL!
This concludes Part 1 of Book 1 of “The Top Dog ,” from the Seven Deadly Kins Series. Book 2, “The Top Dog– Part 2 ,” which features the conclusion of this double novel, is available RIGHT NOW. There is no cliffhanger! Both books were released on the same day for your reading pleasure. See you soon!