Damaged (18 page)

“Told you,” she said, lighting a cigarette. “It gets easier.”

I bit my lip and thought about her words. Somehow I ain’t quite believe her.

A couple weeks later, Nut called a Sunday afternoon meeting. Peaches cooked a big dinner in Trina Boo’s apartment. Fried fish,
collard greens, wild rice, and buttermilk biscuits. We ate over Trina Boo’s, since Wynika brought her table across the hall
so we could all eat together. Ra-Ra and Meko ate on the floor, where Wynika had laid out newspapers. Her nephew Andre stopped
by to get a plate, before going back across the street. He looked like he was a little older than me, but I wondered if he
was a special-ed case or something, cuz he ain’t seem to have it all together. I saw him playing outside, like he was nine
or ten with the other kids in the neighborhood. Shakira’s cousin Marcha was there, too. She had caught a cab over from Sixth
Street. I was wondering why Ra-Ra and Meko was in the same room where Nut was about to make his announcements, when Nut stood
up.

“Business doing real good,” he said, leaning against his cane, looking down at all of us seated around the table. “Y’all doing
real good. Keep it up. I just want y’all to know that I got some badass youngins working with me. And cuz of that, I got a
surprise for you.”

A surprise?
I looked at Shakira and then Peaches. They both shrugged their shoulders. Nut pulled out his Blackberry and sent a text,
and then he said, “Anybody know why those big-ass companies like Coke and McDonald’s do so good?”

We all looked at each other. I looked across the table at Wynika, who was buttering her biscuit. No one knew where Nut was
going, and ain’t nobody offer him an answer.

“They brand theyselves with logos and shit. A nigga in China know what Coke is, just like a nigga in Germany or India do,”
he said, laughing.

Somebody knocked on the door and everyone looked in the direction of the sound.

“Get that, Trina Boo,” Nut said.

She got up and walked over to the door.

“Nut here?” the person asked.

When she stepped back, a short white guy with crazy tattoos etched up one of his arms and a big black earring that made his
earlobe droop walked in with a black case.

“Brands, ladies,” Nut said proudly. “That’s what makes
small
businesses
big
businesses.”

“Hello, girls,” the guy said.

“This is my man Dave. A hot tattoo artist who just moved here from New York. So who’s first?”

Trina Boo sucked her teeth and walked to the bathroom.

“That nigga crazy. I ain’t getting no fucking tattoo for his ass,” Shakira whispered.

“What, bitch?!” Nut said, pointing his cane at her. The end of the stick was a few inches from her mouth. “I hear your ass
talking slick out your mouth. Don’t make me knock your muthafuckin’ teeth out!”

“Whoa, whoa… let me show you what I designed first. I bet you are going to love it,” Dave said, opening up his bag and pulling
out a pad.

Shakira leaned back in her seat.

“Hey, Meko, take your brother back in the room and watch TV,” Wynika said. He sucked his teeth and grabbed Ra-Ra’s hand before
dragging him down the hall.

Dave walked over and put the pad on the table. I leaned forward to see what it was. A butterfly.

“But I already got one,” Shakira said, frowning.

“But not like mine, and it ain’t where I want it,” Nut said, pissed off. “And I’m getting sick of your muthafuckin’ mouth!”

The butterfly was cute, but there was three tiny sixes on one wing.

“Dave gonna put it right here on your back,” he said, pointing to the center of his waistline. “That shit is so sexy, and
your ass ain’t got a choice.”

I frowned and leaned back in my chair. I ain’t want no damn tramp stamp.

“Everybody gonna know y’all work for me. High-class, top-of-the-line young dimes,” Nut said, boasting.

Marcha stood up and pulled her chair to the center of the living room. She raised her shirt up and pulled her sweat-pants
down a little bit. “I’m ready, baby,” she said, bending over the back of the chair, shaking her butt.

Wynika laughed and said, “Well, fuck it. I’m next.”

So I guess I had to be after her, or else.

OCTOBER 2005

I
was standing on the block smoking a cigarette in my usual spot on Fourteenth Street when a brand-new 2006 black Denali with
dark tinted windows pulled up beside me. The rims was spinning like crazy and I could hear congas pounding from the speakers.
When I got to the truck, the dark-skin guy with a low-cut fade was wearing a navy blue suit with an orange tie.

“You Nectar, right?” asked the dude. He was kind of cute with his big white smile.

“Hey, cutie,” I said, leaning in the window. He was puffing a J and had his whole car smelling good. “Yep, I’m Nectar. What’s
up with you?”

“Ain’t nothing. How much for you to stay the night with me at the Renaissance?”

“You ain’t a cop, are you?” I asked coyly.

“I’m sitting here smoking a blunt, and you asking me if I’m a cop. Come on now, sexy.”

“Can I hit that?” I asked.

“If I can hit that,” he said, smiling.

I licked my lips and smiled back. Then I fluttered my fake eyelashes Peaches insisted I wear to help me look older and said,
“What’s your name?”

“Joe.”

“Well, Joe, you can hit this shit all night long for a G.”

“A G? Shit, I got that,” he said, digging in his pocket. “I’ll give you half now.”

I said a G only cuz nobody never asked to spend the whole night, and I thought he was gonna say it was too high, but he just
handed me the cash. I tried not to look too shocked. “Okay, well let me just text my man. He gonna follow us around the corner,
okay?”

Joe nodded as I sent the text to Nut and then climbed in his truck. He sent a text back to make sure I sent him the room number
when I got inside. He wrote that he was gonna come up and get half the money. But I ain’t tell him I was charging the dude
a whole G.

As Joe drove down K Street, I puffed on his blunt and let that good old Backyard Band take my mind away. I double-checked
to see if Nut was behind us in the side mirror. I could see his silver Excursion trailing behind us.

When Joe turned down Ninth Street, he said, “So how long you been out here, sexy?”

“Not long. Why?” I asked, blowing smoke in the air.

“Just asking.”

“Why you
just
asking?”

“You look young, that’s all.”

“But you like me young, right?” I asked, smiling.

He smiled and reached for the blunt. Joe looked like he was around twenty-five. I wondered what he did, cuz he certainly ain’t
look like a hustler, and he was young and clean. But I knew it wasn’t my place to ask how he made his money, and it really
wasn’t any of my business as long as he paid me.

Once inside the hotel lobby, I waited as Joe checked us into a room. It was a nice hotel, and nothing like the cheap, dirty-ass
motel on New York Avenue where niggas always tried to take me. Wynika called it the “No Tell Motel,” cuz shit was always happening
there, and whenever the cops came around asking questions, nobody knew nothing.

On the elevator, I let Joe palm my butt, even though he ain’t give me all my money yet. He was so damn sexy, I wanted to fuck
his ass for free. He kept licking his lips, like he knew he was gonna fuck the shit out of me. I smiled.

As soon as we got to the room, I sent Nut a text and told him the room number. He was there in no time, tapping on the door.
I gave him $250, and before I could close the door behind me, he put his foot in the doorway.

“Don’t fuck him like you fuck me. You hear me?” Nut said.

I rolled my eyes and nodded.

“I ain’t playing with your ass, Nectar,” he whispered.

“Okay, okay,” I said.

“I’ma pick you up around seven, too. So don’t let that nigga think he treating you to breakfast. It ain’t even going down
like that. No, sir.”

I nodded as Nut stepped away and then I closed the door, pressing my forehead against it. I was actually a little nervous
since I ain’t never been with nobody who wanted to pay so much to be with me. What was this dude really into? When I turned
around I thought I was going to see him pissing in a cup or lining up knives to cut him with or some other wild, crazy shit
like Peaches told me those old white men on Capitol Hill liked to do with her. But Joe was just sitting on the edge of the
bed, still with his suit and tie on.

“So what’s up?” I asked, sauntering over to him.

“You,” he said, licking his lips.

I took off my cream Baby Phat jacket and sat it on the chair across from the bed. Then I turned around and peeled off my purple
sleeveless dress.

“Can you keep your boots on?” Joe asked.

“Mmm-hmmm,” I said, rubbing my legs.

“I just want to eat your pussy.”

I smiled and lied on the bed, but he motioned for me to sit on the love seat across from the bed. Joe dropped to his knees
and threw his tie across his shoulder, before spreading my legs apart. He pressed his mouth against me, sucking, kissing,
and licking with his fat tongue for what felt like an hour. When he was done, he made me take a shower with him, but all he
did was rub my body down with soap. It felt so good.

He ordered vanilla ice cream and chocolate cake dessert from room service cuz I said I had the munchies. We sat up watching
Jimmy Kimmel and then a rerun of
The Wire
until we fell asleep in the king-size bed.

I woke up when I heard someone knocking on the door. I looked around the room and saw the sun shining behind the curtains.
Shit. Nut.
I jumped up from under Joe’s arm and ran to look out the peephole.
Peaches?

I cracked opened the door. “Hey,” I whispered, confused.

“Girl, Nut outside waiting for you. He been blowing your phone up for damn near an hour. What the fuck you doing in there?”
she said.

“Shit. Okay, okay,” I whispered. “Let me just put my clothes on and get the rest of the money.”

“Hurry up, ’fore he want to come up here and yank your little ass out of that room!” she said in a low voice. “And you was
supposed to get all the money before you fucked him! The fuck is wrong with you?”

Damn, did I just fuck up and tell on myself? I nodded and tried to play dumb, and then I closed the door. I tried to remember
if I told Nut that Joe was only paying half up front and half after, but I couldn’t remember. After I hurried up and put my
clothes on, I squeezed Joe’s shoulder.

He woke up and smiled when he saw me.

“Hey… I gotta go,” I said.

“Already?” he asked. “I wanted to spend the rest of the day with you.”

I bit my lip and said, “Maybe next time. But ummm… I’m gonna need the other half before I go.”

“Oh, all right,” he said, sighing. “Let me get that.”

I waited as he dug in his wallet and handed me five crisp one hundred-dollar bills. That’s when I remembered that Nut knew
the deal.

“Do you have two fifties?” I asked. I ain’t want to give Nut no more than what he was expecting.

Joe smiled. “No, why?”

I frowned. “Never mind.”

“So, can I get your number?”

“My number?” I asked, biting my lip. He was sexy and he had money, but I couldn’t chance it. Nut would find out, somehow.

“Yeah, so I can call you and see you whenever I want to see you.”

“But you know where I’ll be,” I said, walking to the door. Nut wouldn’t like that shit at all. He ain’t want nobody calling
us like we was in relationships. I could hear his voice in my head now:
No free pussy.
So I said, “Just come see me around Fourteenth Street.”

I opened the door and walked out before he could say anything else.

“Damn, girl. He gonna be pissed the fuck off. I can hear his ass now,” Peaches said, grabbing my arm.

We hurried downstairs and outside. Nut was pushing his Caddy today and I could hear Three 6 Mafia chanting before we even
reached the car. “
Just kill yourself / Go ’head and kill yourself.”

I had never been inside of the Caddy. As soon as I climbed into the backseat, I noticed a weird-looking hairy thing about
the size of an apple dangling from the rearview mirror. It was twisting left and right but never all the way around.

“You must’ve had a good-ass time, wasting my muthafuckin’ time!” Nut shouted as soon as I got settled. “Where the fuck my
money at?”

I rolled my eyes and handed him three one hundred-dollar bills.

“Oh, that corporate nigga gave you a tip, huh? You prime shit, then, huh?” he said, smiling. “But that don’t change a goddamn
thing. When I tell your ho ass to be ready at seven, that’s what the fuck I mean.”

He pulled away from the curb and made a right at the light. “I’ll fix your ass when we get back to the crib,” he said.

Peaches smiled. I could see her cheeks rising all the way from the backseat. What the fuck was she so happy about? I crossed
my arms and waited for whatever was next. He dropped her off at the apartment on Montana Avenue, though it was clear she had
a problem with it. But she knew better than to say nothing, and she just marched up the crumbling stairs that led inside the
beat-up building.

“Get in the front,” Nut said.

I opened the back door and went to the front seat. He drove down the street and made a left. I stared at the hairy thing twisting
back and forth and then I leaned in to look closer.

“Didn’t I tell your little ass I don’t fuckin’ play that shit?” he said, just as his fist flew toward me, crushing my face
against the window. The car was still moving, but he hit me again. “I’m not that bitch-ass nigga Chu. I don’t give a fuck
about you!”

I grabbed my jaw, stunned that he actually hit me the way I had seen him hit Peaches. I could feel the pain growing and then
throbbing as a tear fell down. I wiped it away and then looked out the window.

“Don’t make me have to smash your ass again. It ain’t good for business,” he said, turning down Rhode Island Avenue.