The lady I saw the other day stands with her hands on her hips, a confident smile plastered across her face. Her dark skin is glistening with sweat, causing her white dress to go sheer, revealing her bare breasts and dark-colored thong beneath it.
“Name’s Margo. I gotta say, I didn’t think you would show,” she remarks, digging in her black shiny purse.
“Why is that? Is there a reason why she shouldn’t show up?” Jayden asks, looking at me warily from the corner of her eyes.
Margo places a cigarette in her mouth and lights it, blowing a cloud of smoke into the hot air before answering.
“Most girls are stupid. They think they know the streets because they can open their legs well. That doesn’t mean you have a hint of an idea of what kind of men walk on these streets.” She scratches her big hair and smiles, pointing at us with her cigarette. “But I can tell. Yeah, I can tell you girls are street-smart. Mick is gonna love you.” She takes a drag of her cigarette, shifting on her ridiculous high heels.
“Why would—”
“Follow me,” Margo interrupts Jayden who shakes her head in anger, crossing her arms before following Margo toward the shitty motel.
Walking through the door labeled Management, I’m greeted with the smell of lemon air freshener and stale cigar smoke. A white man sits behind a desk with his head down, messing with a cigar when we walk in. His head is shaved, a big diamond earring in one earlobe. Two men stand behind him with their arms crossed, both wearing black shirts with jeans, a big gold chain hanging from each of their necks. They’re tall and built with short, light-colored hair, and they have tattoos painting their arms and neck. Basically, they look scary as fuck.
I expected a more stereotypical pimp. One who wears a purple suit and a top hat, maybe. A gold cane, with gold teeth. Not some guy who looks like an outlaw, like any passerby in Vegas.
“Margo!” the guy I presume is Mick chimes, dropping the cigar on the desk and leaning back in his ripped leather chair. His face is round, his eyebrows thick and dark. He’s wearing a white suit with a black tie and looks menacing as hell. One brow stays arched, and his eyes hold a permanent glare as he stares at me. My pulse begins to throb in my temples with the unease.
“Who are your friends, baby?” he questions, nodding toward Jayden and me.
“Potential bitches,” Margo remarks, plopping down on a couch in the corner. I scowl at her calling Jayden and me ‘bitches’. She doesn’t even know us.
“Hmm,” he murmurs, rubbing his chin and giving us a once-over.
“I’m sorry, but I ain’t no bitch,” Jayden sneers, shaking her head.
“It ain’t personal, baby. It’s just easier than saying Margo, Jewel, Angel. It’s how we do.” He glances down with arrogance and shrugs.
“Umm,” I interrupt. “Can’t you just call them girls, women, or even employees?”
Mick looks up and nods slowly, his lip curling with a hint of a smirk.
“Looks like we got a smart one on our hands,” he snarls.
“Yeah, but is she street-smart?” Margo pipes up, squinting as she looks me up and down.
“Seriously? I’ve lived—”
Mick holds his hand up, stopping me. “I get it, you have the most tragic back story ever.” He glares at me then Jayden, rubbing his hand over his bald head.
“Join the club, baby,” Margo mutters, shifting on the couch.
“You don’t even know me!” I snap, my voice laced with venom.
“You’re right, and I don’t want to get to know you,” Mick snaps, and I exhale an angry breath. It seems no matter what I say, it’s not right.
“But, if I had to guess, you’re here for an entirely different reason than she is,” he clips, pointing to Jayden. I look beside me, my eyes catching hers.
“You’re apprehensive about being here, and your friend isn’t. At least, not as much as you are, anyway,” Mick points out.
I swallow and try to stiffen my spine. I am worried, but I don’t want to let on I’m more worried than Jayden. I want to be strong for her.
“That’s where you’re wrong. It was her idea to come here,” Jayden speaks up, her hand grabbing mine in support as she looks at me with care. Her simple gesture in grabbing my hand and standing up for me shows she has my back no matter what. I love her for that.
“Is that right?” Mick sneers, giving a small chuckle. “Either way, I could use some new girls,” he mutters, sitting up and interlocking his fingers, resting them on his desk. The way he says new makes me flinch. He didn’t say more girls, he said new. Are the other girls worn out? Did they leave? Are they dead? It’s unnerving.
“What’s your names?”
“My name is Jay-”
“Stop!” he roars, causing me to jump.
“I don’t want to know your real name, nor does any trick you’re fucking. What is your street handle?” His tone leans on the side of irritated as he lifts his chin, waiting for our replies.
“Umm,” Jayden stutters.
“Fancy. My name is Fancy,” I go first, giving Jayden a second to come up with something.
“Hmm, Fancy. Don’t think we’ve had a girl named Fancy before,” Mick says, smiling.
“We haven’t,” Margo adds.
“And you?” Mick points at Jayden.
“Rarity,” Jayden informs, her back straight with confidence as she answers.
“Don’t think we’ve had one of those, either,” Margo states, stuffing tissues under her arm pits. How classy.
“All right, this is what we’ll do. Margo will show you the ropes.” He points at Jayden. “She’ll teach you how to work the corner, Rarity. And you, Fancy, will work the motel.”
“How much do we get?” Jayden butts in.
He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, looking her over. “I get it all. In return, I will pay your rent, and make sure you have food in your fridge—”
“Ha!” I blurt, turning to leave.
“You gotta any better options?” Mick hollers, catching me in my step.
“You’re telling me we use our bodies and don’t get a dime?” I question, my tone hostile as I turn around furious. “Then I say. Fuck. You,” I spit.
Done. I am so done with this whole thing.
“Then go. Work the streets alone without my protection. I’ll send dead roses to your funeral-”
“They won’t have a funeral. Ain’t nobody know they here. Look at them,” Margo adds, standing and waving her finger up and down as she points at us.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jayden steps up to Margo, her fists clenched, ready to throw down. I follow her lead, ready to have Jayden’s back. This Margo chick is starting to get on my last nerve.
“That’s my bottom bitch,” Mick informs, serious.
“Your what?” I can’t help but laugh.
“You know, bottom bitch. It means she’s been around since day one, my most trustworthy bitch,” Mick explains, smiling big at Margo.
“I’d back off,” one of the men standing behind Mick seethes, his chest puffed out. I kind of forgot they were even here; they’re so still and quiet.
I close my eyes, conflicted with what to do.
“Look, how about for the first week, I’ll give you a percentage depending on what you make. That’s the best I can do. You don’t like it, then bounce. But I either get both of you or neither,” Mick offers, and I can’t help but scoff. Accepting his offer will back us into a corner. We won’t have any money to leave if we ever wanted to, because he’ll have it all.
“Don’t be stupid,” Margo whispers, catching mine and Jayden’s attention.
“I’ll take care of you girls, so you won’t have to worry about your next meal. You won’t have to worry about how to pay for a doctor when you’re sick. You’re mine,” Mick pleads his case. His hands steeple as he trails his eyes over us. He knows where we’re weak, knows what we need, and he’s using it to the point we would be stupid to decline his offer. The way he watches my face, my body after every offer he puts on the table, after every word he says, he’s looking for a way to hook us, to hook me.