Daddy Cool (17 page)

The thought of it made her jump up from the couch and run into the bathroom where she was sick. After that, she took a shower, trying to wipe off the memory of all the men she had had. She couldn't scrub hard enough to make her forget. No matter how quickly they came, she knew she was in the wrong life. It was something she knew she could never adapt to.

Ronald would have to make up his mind. No matter how badly she wanted him, she swore to herself that she would never go back to the streets. The thought of the large sum of money she had for him made her sure of her stand. After he got that, he wouldn't be in any hurry to send her back to work.

After showering, Janet daydreamed about how they would spend the money together. Maybe Ronald would take her on a trip. How nice that would be, just the two of them. New York, or maybe catch a plane and go to Mexico.

Taking her time, Janet dressed with care. She was ravishing in the short silk nightgown she wore. Each time she took a step it flared out around her, revealing her gorgeous profile. Being really unsophisticated, Janet didn't have a hard time in making herself believe her daydreams. She honestly thought that Ronald would do what she asked. Subconsciously a warning bell went off, but she ignored it. She didn't even want to face up to the thought that he might not go along with her plans.

Every time she had a doubt, she remembered the money, and that would bring a smile to her lips. She spread the money out on the bed and recounted it. With what she had, there was over two thousand dollars. She decided to keep the money she had made and just give Ronald the money her father had given her for a gift.

The money was still spread out on the bed when the doorbell rang. She sprang up and ran to the door. As soon as Ronald entered, she threw herself into his arms. He pushed her back and stared coldly down into her face.

"Hey, baby," he said coldly, "I went up on the stroll to find you, but the bitches workin' up there said you had pulled up with some trick. What's the idea of you comin' in before I came down and got you?"

"Honey," she said breathlessly, "I got hold of some big money, and I knew you didn't want me workin' in the streets with all that money on me."

"Yeah," he said coldly, "just how much is big money?" He was still using his chilling voice.

Trying to make a game out of it, she beckoned to him. "Come on, honey, I'll show you," Janet said and led the way back toward the bedroom. She smiled brightly as she watched him approach the bed and begin counting the money. After about ten minutes of watching him, she realized that he was really having trouble counting it. She walked over to the bed as he set the money down and began counting it all over again.

"There's two thousand dollars there," she said lightly, watching his face for some kind of emotion. If there was any, it was anger that he wasn't able to handle figures. Ronald had always had trouble counting, and for some reason, he hated people to know that fact.

"Big deal," he snarled coldly. "It was a good sting, baby," he added almost affectionately.

"Aren't you pleased?" Janet asked, waiting for him to sweep her off her feet. He seemed to have changed since she had begun working for him.

"Sure I'm pleased," he stated, getting over his anger that she had discovered he couldn't count large sums. "How the hell did you rip it off, Jan? I ain't taught you how to sting."

"No, honey, I didn't steal it. My daddy came down and found me workin', then he gave it to me for my birthday present."

"Oh," he answered, and his mind went over what she had said. Then he thought of something. "Well, if your daddy gave this to you, what happened to the cash you made before he came down?"

"Oh, oh, I got that, Ronald," she began, then hurried over to the dresser and opened it. She quickly removed the money she had placed there. When she turned around, he was standing right behind her scowling.

"What kind of shit is this, bitch," he cursed, then slapped her across the face. "You don't hold out no money on me. Just because your daddy gave you a few funky bucks, you don't hold out the rest of the money on me!"

She was too shocked at first to think. It wasn't the slap that hurt, either. It was the ingratitude that he showed.

"I wasn't tryin' to hold back any money," she managed to say.

"What you mean, bitch, you wasn't holdin' back no cash?" he snarled. "If I hadn't mentioned it, you wouldn't have brought it out. I know what you were planning on doing with it, too," he added.

"What? What was I going to do with it?" Janet inquired, fighting to get her senses together. Nothing was going like she had planned.

"You were going to hold it and put it with the money you made tomorrow at work so that you could make me think you're just one hell of a whore!"

"Put it with the money I was going to make tomorrow?" she cried. The thought hadn't even entered her mind. She had believed she wouldn't have to work again. "What about the money I have tonight? I know you don't expect me to go back into the streets tomorrow night." She stared at him dumbfounded.

"Bitch," he swore. "Ignorant-ass bitch at that! You damn well had better go back to work tomorrow. Do you think because you gave me two funky grand that I'm goin' let you lay around for a week or better? Bitch," he almost screamed, "you must be out of your cotton-pickin' mind!"

Seething with an unknown anger, she stared coldly at her pimp. "You don't appreciate nothing I do, do you?" she asked, finally seeing the light.

"I don't know what you mean by that, bitch," he said blindly, not being smooth enough to see the damage he had done. "Bitch, I need fresh money every day. It don't make no difference how much you make tonight. Tomorrow is always another day, you dig?"

"Yeah," she answered harshly, "I'm really beginning to dig, you can bet on that!" she said as she put her hands on her hips and stared coldly at the man she had believed she loved.

Finally common sense warned him that he was trying to play the hard mack too hard. He saw at once that he was about to blow a good young whore and reversed his behavior. "Aw, baby," he said, taking her into his arms, "I was just jivin' with you. You know, the way them hard-ass pimps do in the movies and shit. You know I'm goin' let you rest up and we party. Now, come on and give daddy a big hug," he said and began to kiss her passionately around the neck and shoulders.

"It's a good thing you came to your senses," she managed to murmur between kisses, "because I was goin' take back my daddy's money and let you go your own damn way." She was being honest with him.

For a minute he went rigid in her arms, then caught himself. This bitch is crazy, he told himself as he kissed her again, passing up the desire to check her for being out of line. Take back the money, he reflected, almost laughing as he thought about her stupidity. The only thing she would have gotten for her troubles would have been an ass-kicking. But he decided not to push it. It was easier to make love to her, which was something that he really enjoyed since she looked so good.

But Janet was thinking coldly about her father's gift. It never entered her mind that she would have any trouble getting the money back if she wanted it. With the knives she carried lying in her dresser drawer, she had no doubt about her ability to take back the money, even if she had to make a pincushion out of him.

Ronald picked her up and carried her over to the bed. He had already picked up the money and stuffed it down in his pockets. He laid her out on the bed and then lay down beside her. He undressed her slowly, then took her roughly, making her cry out as he punished her for her ignorance.

Even as he made love, he made plans. It would be better, he reasoned, if he allowed her to lie around for a couple of days. All he had to do was keep his dick out of her after this. If she wanted any fucking, she would take her ass back to work with a passion.

That was one thing he was sure of.

OR THE TWO BROTHERS and their friend Tiny, problems had been mounting ever since they had all moved out and rented a house on the east side. The rent was due and among them they had only twenty-five cents. It had taken the last money they had to get Tiny's old car out of the shop. But now they had it running and they were sure they would soon have some money.

"You sure?" Jimmy asked again, as they poured cups of cold wine and rode down the street.

"You better damn well bet I'm sure," Tiny stated. "We been watchin' that numbers house for three weeks now, and I'm sure we can crack it. All we got to do is go in as painters. I heard the woman talkin' in the store and she told the girl behind the counter that she expected the painters to come tomorrow and begin their work."

Buddy had remained silent all through the discourse. Now he ventured his remarks. "I don't know, man, it don't seem likely that they will open the door for us. She must know what one of the painters looks like."

"Sure, I don't doubt that," Tiny answered, "but the way I got it figured, all we got to do is wait until she makes one of her trips to pick up more money or tapes. Shit, once we see that little old green car gone, we know she ain't there, 'cause she's the only one who drives it."

"It makes sense to me," Jimmy replied quickly. He wanted some money and didn't care what kind of chance they took.

"Anything makes sense to you, Jimmy," Buddy answered sharply, then added, "but this ain't no toy, man. These people play for keeps. If we kick this joint over, we goin' have to play it mighty cool after that, 'cause they sure in the fuck ain't 'bout to forget us."

"Aw, man," Tiny said, "let's worry about skinning that cat when we get to it. For now, we got to knock the fuckin' joint off. After that, then we'll worry 'bout spendin' the cash."

In the next few hours they put their plan to work. All three of them dressed in white coveralls that were spattered with various colors of paint. Tiny stuck a small white cap on his head. Their first trip to the numbers house was in vain. They parked their car down the street and waited patiently until the woman they plotted on had left.

From his position in the front seat, Jimmy was the first one to see the woman when she came out. "There she is," he said excitedly.

"I don't know, man," Tiny replied as he gripped the steering wheel tightly. "It's hard to tell from way back here if that's her or not."

"That ain't no problem," Buddy spoke up from the rear of the automobile. "If she gets in the car then we'll know if it's her or not. All we got to be is patient."

"It's her all right," Jimmy replied quickly. "I can see her gettin' in the car." All three of the men strained to see her from their hidden position.

They watched silently as the driver of the car backed out of the driveway, then drove off in the other direction. Tiny started the motor up and drove slowly up to the house the woman had departed from.

"Man," Jimmy said nervously, "ain't you takin' a risk pulling right up in front of the house?" From the high pitch of his voice, Buddy could tell that his brother was scared.

"Hey, Jimmy, why don't you pull yourself together, man," Buddy ordered sharply. "It would look foolish if he parked anywhere else but right in front of the house. We're supposed to be the painters, right? So what the fuck, let's act like real painters."

Once again Buddy found himself put in the role of leader. Always when it came down to real thinking, both of the other men turned to Buddy for guidance.

"Buddy's right, Jimmy," Tiny said. "You got to be real cool, man. This ain't no chump action we gettin' ready to take off. This is the big time!"

"Right on," Buddy added. "Everybody check their piece, and remember, ain't no shootin' unless we ain't got no other choice." He waited to see if the others had any questions before continuing. "Now, let's be cool. The technique we're going to work out should be perfect. All we got to do is take care of the business. And remember," he warned, "as soon as I step through the front door, I want both of you to be coming in on my heels."

Jimmy and Tiny shook their heads in agreement as Buddy pushed on the car seat. "Okay, Jimmy, let me out."

Jimmy leaned forward so that his brother could push the car seat up. With a flip of his hand, Jimmy opened the door and waited until his brother got out. He could feel his legs shaking and knew he didn't have the nerve it took to go to the door by himself. If it was left up to him to start the ball game, it would never get started. He was just too frightened. He could follow orders, but someone else would have to lead.

Buddy walked slowly up the pathway that led to the front door. He was nervous, but other than that he was all right. His right hand went down to his waist. He felt the weight of the small .32 automatic he had concealed on his person. This was it, he told himself, this was the big one. Once they took it off, he would never again in life have to worry about asking his stepfather for help. The very thought of the security the money would bring helped to steady his nerves.

When Buddy reached the front door, it was another matter. A convulsive shaking began in his knees and he thought about turning around and fleeing. If he hadn't knocked on the door, he would have bolted and run. But before he could, someone opened the heavy inside front door and peered out at him. He snatched at the dirty paint cap he wore, removing it from his head. With determination he willed himself to use control. If he turned around and ran now, he would ruin everything.