8. Chapter 7 #2
“You should’ve left me the fuck alone,” June said through clenched teeth.
Allure cried out for June to stop but June punched her again. This time the punch was hard enough to send her crashing into the hallway mirrors. One of the mirrors cracked from the impact. The dancers that were watching screamed.
“Oh shit!! She tryna kill that bitch!” somebody yelled.
Allure dropped to the floor trembling and crying.
Her weave was half gone and ripped out of her scalp leaving raw, bleeding bald spots.
Her knees were scraped and torn, her nose was broken, her lips were busted, and one eye was swollen completely shut.
She trembled with pain as she stood back up on shaky legs.
“June!” Mercedes yelled, finally catching up to her. “Chill!”
But June wasn't tryna hear that shit. She was going the fuck off, calling Allure everything but her name as she kept tearing fire to her ass. She landed one final blow to Allure's ribcage that made that bitch fold like a fucking lawn chair. That’s when Marcus's voice cut through the crowd.
“JUNE STOP!!!!”
Every head turned toward him. Marcus walked down the hallway calm like none of this shit around him mattered. He looked at Allure laid out on the floor before turning his attention back to June.
June stepped back with her chest heaving, and a scratch running across her cheek from Allure’s nails. Marcus moved in closer to June. “What the fuck happened?”
June smirked as she spat blood onto the floor. “This bitch’s mouth just wrote a check that her ass couldn’t cash.”
Marcus stared at her before looking toward security. “Go tell Sabrina to get her cleaned up,” he said. “And get these people the fuck out my hallway.”
Then he looked back at June. “Aight, Tyson,” he said as he chuckled quietly. “You made your point.” He walked back towards his office.
“Damn!!!! She fucked that bitch up,” one of the dancers whispered.
June smirked, letting herself finally relax, though her chest still pounded.
Allure wouldn’t be coming after her again.
Everyone in the club knew that. And once again, June had made it clear that she was not someone to be fucked with.
June stepped back onto the main floor and took a seat at the bar.
All eyes were now on her. People kept looking over from across the club and talking amongst themselves.
Their whispers were spreading like wildfire.
“Damn, did y’all see that shit?” a dancer named Sugar asked, leaning against the bar.
“That girl just murdered Allure!” a dancer named Majesty said, shaking her head. “She mopped the floor wit that bitch, she dragged her ass all up and through here.”
“Yo,” another dancer named Candy laughed, “she straight whooped that bitch.”
June sat at the bar with her hand in a bucket of ice while the whole club was still hype from the fight. Everywhere she looked, somebody was talking about what happened while workers cleaned blood off the stage.
“Bitch…” Mercedes said under her breath as she stared at her. “You beat the sonic coins out that girl.”
June laughed a little before wincing. “That ho kept talking sideways at me so I gave her what she was askin' for.”
The bartender slid a fresh shot in front of her. “That shit was crazy.”
“Yeah it was,” June said as she threw the shot back.
One of Marcus’s security guards walked over a few seconds later. “Marcus want you in the back.”
Mercedes looked at June. “Oh shit.”
June sucked her teeth and grabbed the bucket. “He just better not be on no shit.”
Girls watched her walk through the club.
Some looked scared of her now. Some looked impressed.
A few of them moved out her way without her even having to say saying excuse me.
The noise from the club faded as she headed toward Marcus's office with the ice bucket in tow. She opened the door without knocking and came inside. Marcus was sitting behind his desk pouring himself a drink like the club hadn’t just turned into a boxing arena. He looked up at her.
June sat in the chair across from him. “What?”
Marcus leaned back looking her over. Her cheek had scratches across it. Her lip was swollen a little. Her braid was slightly messed up from the fight. And somehow she still looked fine as hell.
“You done?” June asked.
Marcus let out a quiet laugh through his nose. “You know you just tore my club the fuck up, right?”
June swirled the ice around in the bucket. “That bitch should’ve kept my name out her mouth.”
“She lost damn near all her teeth, June.” Marcus added.
“And?” June lifted both eyebrows like she genuinely didn't see the problem.
Marcus blinked in astonishment before finally shaking his head. “Nah,” he said. “You crazy as shit.”
June shrugged her shoulders like she didn't care. “She was fucking with me first.”
Marcus took a sip of his drink. “You had my customers recording the fight though June.
Mothafuckas hooting and hollering like they ain't got no fucking sense. You had blood all over my damn stage.” He pointed toward the hallway.
“Ambulances outside and shit.” Marcus shook his head slowly.
“Security rushing through the crowd and you getting extra tryna kill the bitch.” He pointed toward the club floor. “That type shit can fuck business up.”
June rolled her eyes. “Marcus please. They was loving every moment of that shit.”
“Nah,” Marcus said seriously. “That ain’t the fucking point though June.”
June stood there with her arms folded and waited to see where he was going with the conversation.
Marcus took another sip of his drink before continuing.
“It's mothafuckas from all over the world that come to spend they money up in here. Business men. Rappers. Athletes. Niggas bringing clients. The last thing I need is videos floating around making this place look outta control.” He looked at her hard.
“One bad night can cost me a shit load of money.”
June rolled her eyes. “It ain't even that deep.”
Marcus looked at her like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Ain't even that deep?” he repeated. “You beat that bitch like she stole your fuckin' social security number.”
June laughed for real this time. Marcus tried not to smile, but it slipped out anyway.
“Nah, but for real though June,” Marcus said, still staring at her. “I think you got anger issues.”
“And I think bitches should stop fuckin' playing with me.” she said matter-of-factly.
Marcus kept looking at her over the rim of his glass.
“Just to let you know, if that was anybody else,” he said slowly, “I would’ve threw they ass out my club. I don't play that shit up in here. Mothafuckas know not to pull that kind of shit up in my establishment.”
June looked him up and down while biting her bottom lip. “But I'm not everybody else.”
Marcus smirked.
“Nah,” he admitted. “You definitely not.”
June continued to eyeball him as she waited for him to say something else.
Marcus sat his glass down. “You still did too fucking much though.”
“She pushed me to my limit and she sent me over the edge.” June said with a slight attitude.
“And you damn near sent her ass to the morgue.” Marcus shook his head.
June laughed. Marcus started laughing as well. “See, that’s the problem. You always think shit is funny.”
“Nah, I think bitches need to stay in their lane and leave me the fuck alone.”
Marcus finished off the rest of his drink and then folded his hands on top of his desk. “As of today, you not dancing no more.” He stated.
June frowned. “What?”
“I’m serious, your dancing days are over.”
“So what, you firing me?” She asked.
Marcus shook his head. “No. I just don't think the stage is where you need to be.”
June looked at him carefully. “So what exactly am I supposed to do then?”
“You gon work upstairs with me for a while. You gon handle the VIP reservations. Be on phones handling private bookings. Shit like that.”
June narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
Marcus’s eyes dropped to her lips before meeting her gaze again. “Because I fuckin' said so, that's why.”
June stared at him for a moment before a slow smirk spread across her face.
She wasn't stupid by a long shot. She knew exactly why he didn't want her dancing no more.
He didn't want anymore eyes on her like how STG's was. She laughed quietly to herself and played with her tongue ring. Marcus’s eyes lingered to the silver ball twirling inside her mouth.
“Oh… so that’s what this is?” she asked, flirting with him.
Marcus tried not to react, but the look in his eyes gave him away.
June stood up slow, smoothing her skorts down over her hips before grabbing the bucket of ice. She continued to looked Marcus up and down shamelessly, letting her eyes linger just long enough to turn him on. Then she started backing toward the door.
“Aight then, boss man,” she said with a teasing grin. “Try not to miss me too much downstairs.”
Marcus watched her walk away without saying a word. And June knew he was watching too. The small smirk on her face got even bigger before she disappeared out the office.
The club was winding down by the time June made it to the main floor.
The DJ had cut the music and the crowd started thinning out.
June started gathering her belongings from behind the bar.
The scratch on her cheek still stung like hell.
Her adrenaline was still pumping since the fight.
That rush was still sitting in her chest.
When she finally stepped outside, Marcus was standing by her car with his hands in his pockets.
"Aww ain't that sweet, you tryna make sure I get into my car safely?" June teased.
"Something like that," Marcus smiled.
"You know I ain't worried about a bitch tryna retaliate, I stay ready so I ain't gotta get ready," June added with a knowing smirk.
"I know," Marcus chuckled. "I was also tryna see what you was getting into for the night."
"Well, I was getting into my car, and into the shower once I got home, and then into my bed to go to sleep," June laughed with amusement at her own joke.