Brooklyn Brothel (22 page)

My head rotated back and forth. I watched the back of Mike’s car speed off down the street, then turned to see Gino comin’ at me like an American Gladiator on a mission. My first instinct was to shout, “I’m Tony’s lady!”

But there was no time for my words to sink in with him. Gino took hold of my shoulders with his powerful hands. It was crazy how he was able to hold my body firmly in place with the force of just his hands. It was the first time we’d had direct eye contact, so it frightened me. His lazy eye seemed to hypnotize me. I tried to look away but the sickenin’ smell of his breath followed either way I turned.

Slap!

Just like that he slapped the shit outta me. I shouted, “Does Tony know you’re treatin’ me like this? I’m his woman!”

“Correction. You’re just Tony’s trick,” he laughed with a touch of sarcasm. “You think he’s gives a fuck about you?” he taunted. “Forget about it.” He slapped me again. “All I know is you gotta be taught a lesson. Stay in your fucking place!” he told me.

I had to think quickly. I knew I couldn’t cry ’cause my girls were watchin’ from one of the bedroom windows upstairs. My face stung and had reddened from the impact. “I’ma call the cops,” I threatened.

“The cops?” His eyes lit up with rage. “Oh, so you wanna call the fuckin’ meat-eaters on me? Huh?”

I jerked backward loosenin’ myself from his grip. His eyes told me that things were about to worsen. The car behind me wouldn’t allow me to run, so I kept my eyes on Gino and ran backwards as fast as I could. In a dash, he ran after me faster than I expected him to.

Suddenly, I tripped tryna make it back onto the curb. Flat on my ass, my prison tactics kicked in. It was all about survival. I looked around the empty sidewalks hopin’ someone would appear; a mailman, a UPS driver, somebody, anybody!

Gino moved forward takin’ heavy steps in my direction. He kept sayin’, “The cops, huh?”

He chased me as I scooted on my ass backwards, tryin’ to get away.

“Too bad! They’re friends of ours!”

Without hesitation, Gino bent as far downward as his over-sized body would allow, and reached for me. Unable to take me into his grasp, he stopped, stood in the middle of the sidewalk, and struck a pose like the Incredible Hulk. He was angry, damn near fumin’ from the mouth; mostly because he hadn’t got me where he wanted me. I was waitin’ for his ass to turn green.

I stood up, made a run for it, but ended up face down on the ground. Blood trickled from the side of my mouth as Gino stumped his size twelve shoe into my backside. I screamed and pulled my knees close to my stomach to help shield the pain. Unfortunately for me, it fueled Gino’s anger. He’d grabbed me by my hair hard enough to pull out a plug of strands, and dragged me through the streets like a heavy duty mop.

Gino had gone off on me like a tyrant, so I blacked out hopin’ that he’d just kill me. I heard the sound of a car whizzin’ by us, but just my luck it neva even slowed down. Before I knew it, Gino had lifted me from the cold concrete and had me jacked up against the car drillin’ me like a tormented boxer in the ring. My body swayed with each punch, feelin’ like I’d been smashed by a ton of bricks.

“Don’t- you- ever- call- Tony- at- his- house -again!” he stressed, pausin’ in between hits.

I tried to nod, but decided to close my eyes to prepare for the next hit.

“I wanna hear you say it!” he shouted holdin’ me by the neck with one hand.

I couldn’t say shit. My teeth were in pain, and felt like if I opened my mouth they would fall out like bubble gum fallin’ from a machine.

“I’m done,” he said pushin’ me to the ground. “I see we gotta get a place ready for you,” he said then walked off toward his car.

I stayed on the ground thinkin’,
a place for me?
What the fuck?”

Chapter 17

By the time
the next mornin’ rolled around, I had counted up all the money for the week, includin’ last night’s take, and sent a note to the girls by Cinnamon, listin’ my daily expectations for house profits. I wasn’t sure whether she knew it or not, but Cinnamon had been a life saver. She’d taken care of all my responsibilities, and still managed to convince me to get dressed. Although I listened, I found myself back in bed, sittin’ with a saddened expression, and my back flat against the headboard. I was cautious with my attire, choosin’ somethin’ not so sexy, yet loose, keepin’ the fabric on my blouse from touchin’ my bruised skin.

For me, the pain was more than I expected. I neva knew that being punched, and stumped, would feel like I’d been hit with a ton of bricks the followin’ mornin’. I remember someone tellin’ me once, that after a terrible car accident, the pain always came at you strong the very next day. But damn, I could barely move. My arms had gotten stiffer by the minute and caused me not to make too many sudden moves. There wasn’t really much for me to do anyway, ’cause my girl, Cinnamon, had done it all. She moved about, quiet as a mouse, handlin’ her business, and not askin’ me even one thing.

The mood in my room reminded me of when somebody dies, and the guest don’t know what to say. I didn’t think my beat down would cause so much uncertainty. Things
had calmed down a bit in spite of my minor trip to Cinnamon’s emergency room, which was actually in our kitchen. I’d taught her well. I could tell she was becomin’ more confident by the way she walked and talked. She’d even coached me through the night while changin’ my ice pack and bandages in the process.

It was kinda odd for me watchin’ Cinnamon operate as if everythin’ was normal. She moved slowly, but with a smile, and neva once mentioned Tony. I watched from the tiny slit in the corner of my eye as Cinnamon prepared a new ice pack ova by my dresser. She was on her third doctor’s round when she walked ova to me, and placed her hand on my shoulder for comfort. I gave her a fake smile hopin’ that she’d hadn’t lost respect for me. Here I was the Madam, beat-up, black eyed, and in bed.

“Here ya go, girl. This should help,” she said passin’ me the ice pack.

I took it, but with shame, and refused to look her in the eye. She seemed to glow. Her hair was pulled back off her head into a tight, fluffy ponytail.

“Hey, what’s up? I thought we said we were gonna put that Gino thing behind us,” she told me.

“I know. I did already.”

“Nooooo. You didn’t. Or you wouldn’t look so sad.” She grabbed a hand-held mirror from the nightstand and sat down on the bed closer than I wanted her to.

“Really…I’m good,” I responded in a more joyful tone. “My face just hurts a little. It’s tight.”

“The ice will take the swelling down. Plus, I’ma give you two more Advils in another hour. Take a look,” she asked. “It’s not all that bad.”

I hated to look, but had no choice. Cinnamon had the mirror not even three inches from my face. It was crazy how I felt disfigured. The dark spots could be stomached, but the
blackish-purple tint had me concerned. It was an ugly sight to see.

I guess Cinnamon thought I’d had enough, ’cause she snatched the mirror from my hand and proceded to get up.

“Hey Cinnamon,” I called out to stop her from movin’ away from the bed. “Hold up a second…gotta tell you somethin’.”

“Shoot.”

I studied her before I spoke. I loved the fact that she always kept her perky attitude no matter what was goin’ down. I even liked the fact that she was willin’ to lose money by takin’ care of me, instead of workin’ for the day. It showed she was a true friend.

“You think I’m stupid?”

“Girl, please. Why would you say something stupid like that?”

She laughed. But it was clear the laughter was to appease me, ’cause the joke wasn’t that funny. Besides, if Cinnamon was smart, she would know I wasn’t interested in jokin’ and bein’ happy. I wanted to stay on my bed sulkin’ all day, and dreamin’ about kickin’ Tony’s ass.

Out of the blue, Cinnamon rushed back ova to the nightstand and grabbed my black cosmetic bag. I wanted to tell her to get outta my personal shit. I mean we’d become close and all, like two peas in a pod, but now she was going too far. “What are you doin’?”

She waved her finger in the air after dippin’ it into the Vaseline.

“Every lady needs to keep her lips lookin’ good. Yours are dry, Missy.”

Just like that she used her forefinger to press a layer of Vaseline to my dry lips. Any otha time I woulda objected, but the gesture showed she cared about how I looked. A part of me wanted to wrap my arms around her to say thanks, but the
physical part of me felt as if I was in the twilight zone. I kept starin’ at my doorway wonderin’ if it was true. If so, how did he get in?

“Oh, hey Tony,” Cinnamon said, removin’ herself with ease from my bed. “Can I get you something?”

“No…not really. Let me talk to Co-Co alone.”

Cinnamon didn’t bother answerin’, and I kept my lips pressed together with extra force. I wanted to scream out, “You muthufucka!” But instead, I stayed in my place.

Even though Tony stood four feet away, his lustful look was evident. He carried a black and gold Jansport backpack on his shoulder, and had on a pair of blue jeans with a yellow polo shirt, tucked in of course. He neva missed a beat at being neat. I kept glancin’ across his shoulder to see if Gino was behind him. I guess he figured out my tactic, so he used my fear against me to break the ice.

“He’s not here,” Tony told me. “I told him to stay behind for now.”

“For now!” I shouted. “That muthufucka beat my ass and you talkin ’bout for now. You gon’ let him do that to me, Tony!”

“It’s outta my hands, Co-Co.” He shrugged his shoulders.

I expected his face to show more concern. I woulda even been satisfied if he shouted and asked me why the fuck I called his house. But no…it was the same old Tony, the Tony who always kept his cool, the Tony who lied to me at least twice a day, and the Tony who wanted to use me up. Use me for my body, and my smarts. His eyes ran across my body like a high-powered scanner. He seemed to be absorbin’ my beauty. Or should I say my bumps and bruises.

He inched closer to the bed, makin’ me think he had intentions on stayin’ a while. “You know your skin is still beautiful.”

“Fucked up and all, huh?” I twitched my lips lettin’ him know I wasn’t fallin’ for no games.

“No, serious. The discoloration beneath your eyes will fade. Good black don’t crack, so I heard.” He chuckled.

Not only did I ignore his ignorant laughter, but I turned my head the moment he peered into my face. His scent, his mesmerizin’ smell, had not changed. I wanted to breathe deeply, takin’ him by the shoulders, but my pride wouldn’t let me.

“Why are you lounging on the bed? You have a few nasty marks that will go away eventually. That’s it. Why not get up and make sure things are good around here?”

“I’ve done everythin’,” I snapped. “And I’m capable of walkin’. I just don’t feel like it. How do you think things have been gettin’ done?” I raised my voice even more, “Can I get a sick day?”

“Of course, you can. One day. One day only,” he confirmed sharply. His voice remained soft as his body inched ova mine again. The closer he got, the more he roamed my face with his hands like he cared. For me though, I knew he didn’t, it was all a game. At twenty-three, it had finally set in that life was a game. Everyone was on the take. All my life bootleg people pretended to care for me; my mother, Dre, Renee, countless people in prison, some who I called friends. Of course there was Bo, and now Tony.

“So, are you gonna retaliate for me,” I whispered into his ear.

“Retaliate? Are you fucking kidding?”

My face remained stern as I spoke. “Do I sound like I’m kiddin’?”

“Look, Co-Co, there’s something you don’t know about me, and probably will never understand. I’m connected with some very dangerous…”

I cut him off with my voice, and my hand pressed
firmly into the thin air. “I know.”

“So, Gino reacted in my best interest and I can’t do anything to him without permission.” He paused, then bent forward rubbin’ his hands up and down his pant legs like he was really in deep thought. “He’s protected, so forget about it.”

I leaned forward removin’ my back from the headboard. I was in complete shock. Although it hurt me to move, I was fired up, and ready to fight. “What about me?” I shouted. “I’m supposed to be protected by you.” I pointed my finger just inches from his face. “You were supposed to protect me!” Suddenly, I wept as if the entire ordeal was happenin’ all ova again.

“Co-Co, you’re a fucking moulie. Gino is an enforcer. The boss of bosses would have me whacked if I chose you over him.”

My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I fell back against the headboard. I moved like a see-saw, up and down. I couldn’t believe what he was sayin’. I wanted to call Bo and have him bring some heat to show Tony’s Italian ass how moulies got down. “Did you just call me a nigga?”

“No. A moulie,” he confirmed.

“Same fuckin’ thing, Tony. So you call me your woman, but you defend Gino over me?”

He hit me with a shrug of the shoulders again.

“What are you sayin’, Tony?”

“Plain and simple; you swallow nut for a livin’. Gino makes the family money. He protects and serves.”