Choosing Sides (10 page)
Authors: Treasure Hernandez
Chapter Twelve
M
anolo watched Mimi step her skinny legs into a purple thong. Her body was slim, but stacked just right, her ass cheeks filling out voluptuously, causing him to lust after her. He asked her, “Where she go?”
anolo watched Mimi step her skinny legs into a purple thong. Her body was slim, but stacked just right, her ass cheeks filling out voluptuously, causing him to lust after her. He asked her, “Where she go?”
“She went to see the young boy's mama.” Mimi studied his facial expression to see if he was upset, but saw no sign of anger in his eyes. “Don't worry, she'll be back,” she said, once again studying his facial expressions. “You upset?”
“Nah, I ain't mad. We haven't given her a reason not to want to come back. She doesn't know the deal yet. I still got to break li'l mama in.” He thought about how easy it was going to be to get into Halleigh's head.
Tasha walked into the room, strutting as if she belonged on a runway. Her layered hair was held out of her face with a pair of large Chloe glasses, and her manicured feet were covered in red flip-flops. She struggled with the many bags in her hand.
“Did you get what I asked you to?” Manolo asked.
Tasha nodded her head, removing outfit after outfit from large shopping bags. The outfits were all revealing, short mini skirts with low-cut tops, and a pair of matching stilettos for each outfit.
Manolo had sent her on a shopping trip for Halleigh. He had big plans for her; she just didn't know it yet.
Mimi observed some of the items, measuring them. “Yeah, she should be able to fit this stuff.” She then frowned. “But you sure she's gon' be down for this? She seem kind of timid to me.”
Tasha chimed in, “She's taken a bath and cleaned up, but her clothes still look pretty bad. She gonna be able to work it?” Tasha snapped her fingers with the twitch of her ass.
“I gave her something to wear for now,” Mimi told her. “She a'ight.”
Manolo, tired of hearing the girls go back and forth over his latest project, and whether he could pull off getting her right where he wanted her, said, “Don't worry about it. I'll handle it.” He looked at Tasha. “When I first got a hold of your ass, you was the deacon's daughter. Now you the baddest bitch in Flint.” He slapped her on the ass. His dick swelled a bit at the thought of Tasha's sweet pussy, and how he had broken her in.
Although only twenty-three, Tasha knew how to please a man. She was a freak and had no problem giving Manolo the goods anytime he wanted it. That's one of the reasons why he'd made her the madam of the house. He preferred to have her all to himself and didn't want her working niggas anymore. He wasn't trying to share her pussy.
Tasha thought about Manolo's comment. Halleigh did remind her of herself a little bit when she first got into the game. Which is why a part of her was a little intimidated. She was going to make sure that Halleigh didn't dare try to come after her crown as the queen of that there throne.
Mimi rolled her eyes at both Manolo and Tasha.
Bitch always getting special treatment.
She then finished dressing, looking as Manolo pulled Tasha toward him, grinding his swollen dick into her backside.
Bitch always getting special treatment.
She then finished dressing, looking as Manolo pulled Tasha toward him, grinding his swollen dick into her backside.
All of a sudden, they heard the front door slam. They saw Halleigh run past Manolo's bedroom and into her own. They could hear her crying.
Tasha shook her head and sighed. “You better save that for her.” She rubbed Manolo's crotch. “It looks like you gon' have your work cut out for you.” She then maneuvered herself out of his grasp and left the room, taking Mimi with her. “We'll be at the hotel,” she said, knowing Manolo would want privacy while he entertained the young girl.
Manolo paid for hotel rooms on a weekly basis for his girls to turn their tricks. This way he could more easily keep an eye on them and their johns. On a regular basis, he would show up there unannounced, so the girls had to be on their toes at all times.
Manolo wore some sea-green slacks with matching gators, and a white wife-beater that showed his tattooed arms. He had a button-up shirt to match the slacks, but it was thrown across the chair in his room. He walked into the hallway and knocked lightly on the frame of Halleigh's door, announcing his presence, even though the door was already ajar. He walked inside over to where Halleigh lay across the bed sobbing.
Halleigh was on the floor crying so hard, she didn't even notice he was standing beside her.
“You a'ight?” he asked in his well-rehearsed tone of fake concern.
Halleigh quickly tried to brush her tears away, turning her head toward the wall and away from Manolo. “Yeah, I'm good,” she replied. Her voice cracked in mid-sentence. She broke down in sobs at the thought of all of the words Mrs. Johnson had said to her earlier that day.
Manolo sat down next to her. He put his hand on her back and guided her head into his lap. He then gently began to rub her head, massaging her neck as he listened to her cry. “Shhh, tell Nolo what's wrong, baby girl,” he whispered. He blew air into her ear in a seemingly innocent way.
Halleigh couldn't respond. Every time she attempted to speak, her words got caught in her throat, and she found herself weeping even harder.
“Don't talk, baby,” Manolo said, trying to soothe her. “Just get it all out.”
Halleigh cried and cried until she felt emptied out. She eventually stopped crying but still couldn't speak. Her eyes burned as she stared blankly at the wall.
Afterwards, Manolo and Halleigh sat in silence in the same spot for an hour. He asked her, “So are you ready to talk yet?”
Halleigh sniffed. “He left me,” she said, her voice cracking again. “You were right. He blamed me for getting arrested, and he left me.” Just hearing herself say it made more tears spill down Halleigh's face.
“It's okay, baby girl. You'll be okay.”
“He was all I had,” she said, her voice breaking up from the thought of being alone in the world.
Manolo could hear the pain in her voice, a pain that put a devious smile on his insides. But he had to stay in character. He eased her head down in his lap and massaged her scalp and her hair. He kept smoothing back her hair. “You've got me, baby girl. Fuck that nigga. He just up and left you. He don't know how to hold you down. I bet he promised he would always take care of you, huh?”
Just like clockwork, Halleigh nodded.
“And now when you need him most, he gets ghost on you.” Manolo paused. “And besides, he let somebody else touch you, baby girl. If he was really your man, he would've handled that for you. Fuck robbing a store with a bottle. He should have been shoving that bottle up the mu'fuckas' asses who did that shit to you.”
Manolo spoke in a low, hypnotic voice. He slowly ran his hands all over Halleigh's body, sending chills up her spine. Suddenly tears flooded Halleigh's vision. She had a flashback as to how powerless she felt when she was being raped and began to shake uncontrollably.
He lifted her head out of his lap and looked into her eyes. “They hurt you, didn't they?”
She nodded her head and dropped it shamefully into her chest.
“It makes me crazy just thinking about somebody hurting someone as sweet and innocent as you. That nigga should've protected you.”
Halleigh gazed up in surprise at how upset Manolo had become.
“Fuck that, Halleigh,” he continued, going for the Oscar nomination at least. “Any nigga put his hands on you, they gotta die.” He stood up and motioned for Halleigh to follow him into his bedroom, where he pulled a .45 out of his closet.
Halleigh's eyes bucked at the sight of the pistol. She put her hands up to calm Manolo down. “No, wait a minute,” she said. “I don't even know who did it. I don't know who they are.”
The way he had erupted in anger scared her, but excited her at the same time. Her mother didn't protect her, Malek didn't protect her, but here someone who had barely known her was willing to protect her. Willing to make sure that the two bastards who had raped her never had the opportunity to touch her again.
“Fuck! If you don't know the cats who did this to you, then I'm going for the next best thingâthat nigga Malek. That mu'fucka should've held you down, Halleigh. Fuck basketball and the NBA. You was supposed to be his girl. I'm murking that stupid nigga for letting them get away with it,” he yelled, inserting the clip and pulling back the chamber of the gun.
“No!” Halleigh yelled as she rushed to Manolo to grab the pistol from his hand. “No, don't!” She couldn't even fathom the thought of Manolo harming Malek. She especially didn't want to be the cause of it. She had already been the cause of enough bad luck in Malek's life. She removed the gun from Manolo's hands.
He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I'm sorry, baby girl. I'm sorry if I scared you. I just want to keep you safe, baby girl, that's all.” His voice took on a syrupy tone. He held on to her tight. “I want you to feel safe,” he repeated, as if he had known her all his life and it was his duty to keep her secure.
Halleigh held on tightly to Manolo. The truth was, he did make her feel safe. The fact that he wanted revenge on the dudes who'd hurt her made her feel special. Like he truly cared for her.
“He doesn't love you. He wasn't treating you right, Hal,” he whispered in her ear and then kissed it.
For a moment, his touch reminded her of Malek's. And for a moment, she closed her eyes and envisioned that it was Malek's touch.
“He promised you all that, but he left you here in Flint while he's living it up without you.”
Once again, Manolo was right. Why was she shedding tears over Malek when he had picked up and left her for dead? “Why did he do this to me?” she asked him in dismay.
“Because he doesn't know what he had,” Manolo told her. “He don't deserve you.” As he continued to speak, he could feel Halleigh dropping her guards. Her body loosened up as he held on to her, and she began to breathe heavily as she, too, brought her body closer to his.
Her broken heart had left her vulnerable to Manolo's manipulation. Her broken heart, as well as being thrown away and discarded by everybody who she felt should have loved and protected her and didn'tâher father, her mother, and now Malek. She needed to hear the words that Manolo was speaking. She needed to know that there was still one person in the world who hadn't thrown her away, even if it was a damn-near stranger. Every girl needed to be loved and to feel the way that he was making her feel. Any emotion felt better than the pain that everyone else had caused her. Any direction was better than being lost, and being wanted by somebody, anybody, was better than being discarded by everyone. How could she turn down Manolo's offer of protection?
“Let me take care of you, baby girl,” he whispered, bringing his lips from her ear to her lips. Only inches away from her face, he was holding her so tight, not wanting her to have the option of backing away from him. “Nobody wants you, baby. Nobody loves you. But I see something in you. I want you. Can I make you mine?” He put his finger under her chin then kissed the tears rolling down her face.
Halleigh nodded her head as Manolo moved in to kiss her softly on the lips. She was hesitant at first, but he kissed her so deeply that she convinced herself that he was being sincere.
Manolo's kisses made their way from her lips to her breasts, to her stomach, and finally to her belt buckle, where he lingered, while her hands rested on his neatly waved taper.
“Baby girl, I want you. Do you belong to me?” he asked her. He unzipped the loose-fitting Baby Phat pants that she'd borrowed from Mimi. When she didn't respond, he said, “Tell me that you're mine, baby girl.” He softly pushed Halleigh back on the bed, and with the precision of a heart surgeon, pulled her panties off.
She gasped as her heart beat uncontrollably.
What is he doing to me?
she thought.
What is he doing to me?
she thought.
“Tell me,” he repeated.
He parted her legs, and let his tongue roll softly over her throbbing clitoris. She was still hesitant. He could tell that she was holding back, but when he inserted two fingers into her vagina, he knew she was willing.
I've just got to get her to say it,
he thought.
I've got to make her think my feelings for her are real.
He caressed her thick thighs and plump ass as he buried his tongue into her pussy. He lifted her hips up and fucked her with his tongue.
I've just got to get her to say it,
he thought.
I've got to make her think my feelings for her are real.
He caressed her thick thighs and plump ass as he buried his tongue into her pussy. He lifted her hips up and fucked her with his tongue.
“Hmm,” she moaned. She began to grind her hips on his face, gripping his processed hair and holding on for dear life. “Hmm, hmm,” she moaned as he went to work.
“Tell me, who's Daddy? Who do you belong to?” he asked between licks.
“I'm yours,” she moaned, moving her hips in circle eights, as if she was at a rodeo. “I belong to you.”
“Who am I? What's my name?” he demanded. “Whose are you?”
“I'm yours, Daddy.”
“Whose pussy is this?” he asked. He knew he was the man when it came to eating pussy. His head game was fierce, so he knew what her answer would be, even before she moaned back her response.
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