Page 7 of Are You Going to Love Me

“One of these days, I'm going to need you to grow the fuck up and be responsible,” Eden grumbled.

Staysha rolled her eyes and asked, “Where are you going?”

Eden didn’t want to tell her sister that fucking up the way she did had cost her more than the lick was actually worth. She couldn’t tell Poppi; honestly, there wasn’t a thing Poppi could do. As far as Eden knew, all her street money had dried up. Whatever kickback she had been getting from the gang had slowed to a stop. The only one left to call was the woman who held the purse strings.

Mama put up the money to bail Staysha out and pay the rent up and cover whatever other expenses had accrued since Poppi’s decline. Now, Eden was stuck at Midnight until the debt was paid. She only hoped she wouldn’t be stuck there, losing her soul like all the other women had within those walls.

“Midnight.”

“What?!” Staysha shrieked. “Why the fuck are you going there?”

Eden hurried to close her door. “Would you be so kind as to shut the hell up? Poppi is almost sleep.”

Staysha repeated herself as if Eden didn’t hear her the first time. “Why the fuck are you going there?”

“Because your ass gotarrested. For soliciting, prostitution, and entrapment of a public servant. Who was I supposed to call?Huh?” Eden flailed her arms in the air, the scowl creasing her face.

“Girl, I didn’t know you were callingherfor bail!”

Eden offered her another look. “Again, who the hell was I supposed to call?”

“I don’t know, Mom? Not her sister! Does Aysha know?”

“Oh, you wanted me to call Mom? Hey, Mom, I know you left us here to go and live your life in the city. I need you and all your money to bail Stay out of jail because we were hitting licks and her dumbass got caught.” Eden scoffed. “Yeah, fucking right.”

“Uh, yes. It’s the least she could do. I mean, what mother goes from an escort to a CEO?” Staysha questioned.

“One that was fuckin’ the CEO and blackmailed him. Now she’s Waynesville’s businesswoman of the year,” Eden hissed bitterly, thinking about how their mother had said fuck them and left them in Trae Way to fend for themselves at such young ages. It was Poppi who saved them. “Anyway, this is what I’m doing until I pay off your debt. Make sure you’re up at six and ready to get to your shift. I do not feel like your PO showing up here and asking me all those questions. And don’t have no niggas in here. Poppi knows you’ve been having people in and out of here. She ain’t that far gone, everything with her is just clouded.”

Staysha scoffed. “I was only going to call Qwan over.”

“Don’t have Qwan’s thieving ass in here. Not like we got shit to steal but still. Don’t.”

Staysha huffed. “Fine. Go make the money. About time you used all that ass for evil.”

“Please leave me the hell alone,” Eden huffed in turn and started out of her room. “I’m serious, Stay. The goal is to get all of us out of here, not be stuck here forever. I don’t want to end up like Poppi.”

“Then get us out of here,” Staysha sarcastically scoffed.

“Bitch, I’ll knock your teeth out playing with me like that.”

“Mmhmm, I’d like to see it.”

Eden threw up her middle finger and roamed out of the apartment to her car. When she got to Midnight, she sat in the parking lot and took a few still moments to breathe. Out of all things she did to make money, she never thought she’d be on the cusp of basically selling pussy. She smiled, played helpless, faked like she was about to give a man some, set him up, and then bounced. It was the life her mother introduced her to and the life she’d been left in. She wanted so much more for herself and her sister, and right now, it seemed like swimming from the deep end to the surface was becoming impossible. She prayed she didn’t drown.

Walking into the locker room was like stepping into a realm of hell. In the corner stall of the bathroom, two strippers were entangled, and another set were doing lines off the sink. At the line of vanities, a few were muttering amongst themselves. A conversation she couldn’t help but overhear as she found an empty locker.

“Bitch, pregnant? What the fuck you gon’ do?” one stripper asked.

“Would you keep your fuckin’ voice down?” the main one with the back-alley-enhanced body replied. “Yes. It’s got to be like four weeks or something. MB just got home, what am I supposed to tell him?”

The third stripper scoffed. “Don’t tell him shit. Hop on his dick the minute you get home, pin the baby on him. I mean, him and his brother do look just alike.”

“Except, Aug is shorter,” the first pointed out. “But that shouldn’t really matter. Unless it matters.”

“It doesn’t. I mean at least you were fuckin’ with brothers and not some other random nigga. MB ain’t gon’ kill his brother. He’s hard but he ain’t that ruthless.”

“I don’t know, sleeping with his girl while he served time is a recipe to get a bullet,” the third woman replied to the first. “Hold on.”

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