Chapter 4 – Holly
Chapter
Four
SEVEN MONTHS LATER
HOLLY
Ihad just gotten off the phone with Gutta Barbie.
She had mixed emotions about the fact that her sister Gorgeous had given birth to her first niece early, and she wasn’t able to be here.
But at the same time, the birth was successful, and the baby was beautiful and had strong vitals.
The doctors were calling it a miracle, so regardless of the circumstances, there were a lot of reasons to celebrate and be thankful.
I walked through the back entrance of Dirty Diana’s.
As I headed towards the locker room, Fly Si and I made eye contact.
She waved, giving me a fake smile. In return, I rolled my eyes and kept it moving on her fraud ass.
Ever since she got hit at Hood Gorgeous Gender Reveal, she’s been running the streets and talking about me and my bitches nonstop.
The stories I was hearing were wild, and I never expected Fly Si to move the way she was moving.
Walking into the locker room, I was greeted by some of the baddest females in Jersey.
Hands down, without a question, Dirty Diana’s had the streets buzzing.
Even though my homegirl was on the inside fighting a body, Gutta Barbie and Wrizzle were still doing their big one.
My stripper heels had been put up since my Sister's passing. I had promised myself I would never dance in a club again, but this wasn’t any ordinary club; it was my home.
It was the main reason I had begged Gutta Barbie to extend the bar into a club.
Fridays and Saturdays were exotic nights, which were my favorite days of the week.
It was when the freaks came out and the niggas with the fattest pockets.
Thick clouds of that exotic gas filled the air, and only the top-shelf bottles were being passed around.
Wrizzle stayed out of the clubs on the weekends until Gutta Barbie gave the green light, which I doubt would ever happen.
So, for now, Hitman and I were in charge of running things on the weekends at Dirty Diana’s, and Wrizzle only stopped through to collect money.
For the auditions, Hood Brat, Hood Gorgeous, and Hitman were the judges and were responsible for picking the top five female exotic dancers for Exotic Weekendz at Dirty Diana’s.
Even though I felt Gutta Barbie finally gave in out of sympathy, I earned my spot, no handouts.
I went and tried out for auditions and went up against every female on the roster; they weren’t fucking with me on any level.
Within my first 60-day probationary period, I had earned the ranking of Dirty Diana’s top dancer and HBIC.
“Damn girl, you're killing that one piece!” a dancer named Pressure complimented.
Pressure and I weren't best friends, but we had gotten semi-close. She wasn’t a hater and gave love and credit where it was due, and I respected that.
I stopped in front of the mirror and did the Megan Thee Stallion move. “Thank you, Baby!”
“This first dancer is the club's MVP, so put them Motherfucking ones away and let me see dem big faces!” Dirty Diana’s New DJ Nice introduced me.
I walked out of the back and approached the stage slowly as DJ Nice played Friday Baddest in the Room, causing the audience to get hype.
Hitman walked out of the back on cue as the beat dropped.
Since I started dancing again, he hasn’t missed one of my performances and has been in attendance, front and center of the crowd.
I tunneled my attention onto him, and our eyes locked as I began imagining he was the only nigga in the room.
I kept my focus on my target as I seduced him with my moves.
I slip down the pole, doing a slow split, causing the crowd to go insane.
Hundred-dollar bills were raining down on my body.
Hitman walked up with a knot as thick as a neck.
I smiled, sticking out my tongue and throwing my head back as he began showering me with hundreds.
When I did his favorite move, I knew he wasn’t going to be able to contain himself.
Two minutes into the song, Hitman was already pulling out a second knot from his pockets, causing me to lick my lips seductively.
I loved putting on a show for my man. Hitman grabbed me by my jawline, pulling me closer.
Our lips met, followed by Hitman sticking his tongue in my mouth.
We made out like we were the only ones in the building without a care in the world.
He wasn’t just my man; he was the biggest spender in this Motherfucker, and that bread was all mine.
I was standing in the dressing room bathroom, applying moustiure my body with cocoa butter after showering, when I overheard one of the girls arguing with her Baby's Father on FaceTime. It started as a low whispering, and every so often, the voice grew louder before falling back into a whisper. “Dominque, don’t be pulling up at the club on no bullshit. I already told you what my boss said would happen if you keep popping up here, glitching the fuck out.” Beautiful whispered.
I could hear her trying to talk some sense into him, but her Baby Father wasn’t the type who liked to reason.
She was only twenty-three and the youngest dancer here.
Beautiful always reminded me so much of myself, and her child's Father was just like Lil Insane; he had no respect or consideration for anyone outside of himself, a real selfish ass nigga.
I always found myself trying to mentor her because I knew all too well how it was dealing with a nigga like Lil Insane.
“I don’t give a fuck about any of that. You my bitch at the end of the day, and ain’t no other nigga gonna be seeing you walking around with your pussy out all day,” he argued.
“Nigga, do you have some fucking money? Where is the bread? I haven’t gotten any help from you or seen a dime since you got shot over a year ago.
So if you want me to stop dancing to come home and lay on my ass all day, you must be bringing in the motion,” she said, causing me to smile.
One thing about Beautiful, all she did was talk about facts.
She didn’t make the smartest choices all the time because love could make you foolish, but she was damn sure not weak.
“You know I’m trying, but these niggas ain’t fucking with me like that.”
“We have five more days to come up with the rest of the rent money, or we’re gonna be living on the streets. You worried about the wrong shit, Dom. I can't be up under you all day fucking 24/7, and make the rent money while you sit around on your ass!”
“So a nigga get shot and now you tryna make it seem like I'm some clown nigga that just sit around all day, BEFORE I GOT SHOT I WAS HOLDING SHIT DOWN!” he barked.
“And? So was I, and I still am, but that's besides the point.”
“So what's the point?” he asked. I couldn't help but eavesdrop. She was gonna tell me everything anyway.
“The point is, do you have a place for me and your children to go, yes or no?” she asked. The line went silent.
“Exactly, Dom, I have money to make,” she said before ending the video call.
I couldn't help but laugh out loud, causing her to immediately jump in.
“And that's exactly why we do not allow video chatting in the dressing room.” I reminded her by giving her a knowing look.
“Girllllll!” she dragged.
“You know his ass is packing the kids up right now and on his way up here,” I told her, giving her a knowing look.
This wasn't the first time or the second that her Baby Father, Dom, came up here showing his ass; in fact, I had stopped counting.
He was toxic and dramatic and gave no fucks.
He was going to cause a scene every time until the bouncers forced him to leave.
On the strength of Beautiful being family and him being the Father of her children, the bouncers knew not to hurt him or use excessive force.
He was a little emotional ass YN, who stayed in his feelings.
I knew she could do better, just like I had, but the difference was that they had children together, so letting go for her wouldn't be as easy as it was for me.
Only fifteen minutes had passed before the bouncers let us know that Dom was outside the club, causing a scene and demanding to be let inside.
Beautiful face immediately showed that she was stressed, but she made her way to the front of the club.
I grabbed my small purse that I kept my little . 32 in and followed closely behind her.
“Make sure y'all watch that little nigga.” I said to one of the bouncers, who nodded his head.
After what had gone down between me and the trannies, Wrizzle had gone out of his way to make sure everybody on the payroll was safe.
He stopped at nothing, making sure that we had the best security around the clock, and these niggas were some straight-up gangstas who were licensed to carry and wouldn’t hesitate to pack a nigga out or smoke one behind any of Dirty Diana’s girls.
They didn't give a fuck what your sex was, on demand, they were trained to go, protective and loyal.
I had grown close bonds with most of them; we were like a family.
I allowed the bouncers to try to get the situation with Beautiful and Dom under control while I searched the club for Hitman.
Ever since the last situation that caused me to lose my child, Hitman hasn’t allowed me to address any drama or handle any hostile situations without him being present, which is something that I respected and couldn’t complain about.
That was his way of protecting me and keeping me safe.
I walked into the back office and stopped dead in my tracks, seeing Hitman at the desk getting head.
As soon as I spotted that fucked up ass wig, I knew exactly who the bitch was.
I ran up to the desk and, as if on cue, just when Hitman noticed me, I grabbed that bitch Fly Si by the wig and began raining blows onto that dirty bitch top.
I was knocking her against the head with my closed fist so hard that her diamonds flew from her head like Mario coins.
“Oh shit!” Hitman jumped to his feet, trying to stop me from killing that hoe. "Babe, chill, hold up!” he pleaded.
As soon as I felt his hand touch me, I snapped out, knocking his ass upside his head, causing him to stumble back before continuing to beat the brakes off of Fly Si.
I dragged that hoe all through that back room, treating her like a rag doll, not sparing her ass at all. By the time they were pulling me off of Fly Si, she was naked, bloody, and unrecognizable. I had ripped her lace front from her head, and the roots to her edges went with it.
“What the fuck! What the fuck!” Hitman panicked, pacing back and forth. “Check that bitch pulse!” he demanded.
He looked at me, we made eye contact, and I turned around and walked out of the office.
The entire club was silent, watching as I walked through the club, feeling once again violated, crossed by someone I love, and disrespected.
Hitman chased after me, grabbed me from behind by the arm, causing me to spin around and remove my blade from under my tongue.
“Nigga don’t fucking touch me. Don’t ever fucking touch me again. ” I seethed.
“Babe, it was just some top, I swear. The bitch just popped out of nowhere and took my dick out my p-
“Save it! I don’t give a fuck how that shit went. Stay the fuck away from me.” I warned him one last time before turning around and walking off.
I walked out of the club, and the first person I noticed was Dom, lying in the club's parking lot with a bullet in his head. Beautiful stood by, screaming, not her Baby daddy, and one of the girls and a bouncer were consoling her. I continued walking to my whip like I didn’t even notice because right now, I honestly didn’t give a fuck.
I needed a blunt, a shot, and some get back pronto.