[Alyssa]
A Week Later...
After that first night, Chresanto made it his mission to come see me every night, and every night, Ace would tell me to take him to VIP room two. Of course, Ace started to charge Chresanto the same way he charges other customers, fifty dollars for a private dance per hour; at the end of the night, Chresanto wound up paying Ace three hundred and fifty dollars for dances, plus money for drinks.
Chresanto would get drunk enough to the point to where I had to take him home, and tonight was no different.
"A-Ace, I need Br-Breeze to-"
"Don't even stress it, nigga. Breeze, you know the deal," Ace says, and I pat Chresanto down for his keys. Once I have them, I begin walking Chresanto to his car. I unlock it and help him in before getting in myself and start the drive to his condo.
Chresanto drunkenly lolls his head in my direction. "Why does someone as beautiful as you work for a dirty dog like Ace?" Surprised, I begin blushing; no one has ever called me beautiful before.
I let out a sigh. I might as well tell him sooner or later, right? "I ran away from home at seventeen. I met Ace at a bus stop in Sacramento a few miles from where I lived, and before I knew it, he was forcing me to strip and have sex with older guys." I turn onto the road his condo is on.
"Why don't you leave him?" I let out a bitter chuckle. "What?"
"Leaving him is a lot easier said than done," I respond. I find the gated driveway of his condo and punch the code in, the gates opening before us. The only reason I know the code is because Chresanto had it written down on a piece of paper in a cup holder the first night I brought him home. "He knows all there is to know about me, and he could use my weaknesses against me." This time, Chresanto chuckles. "What?"
"You must forget that I k-know his weaknesses, too," Chresanto begins to stammer. I park the car in his garage and turn it off, turning to him and dubiously cocking an eyebrow. "He's afraid of guns, has been since his dad was shot and killed." I couldn't help but to laugh at the absurd fear of Ace's. "Funny, I know. He's also afraid of a woman who fights back." I take note of that in my head. "And dogs, he's terrified shitless of dogs." That would explain why he always got jumpy whenever he heard dogs barking close by.
I get out of the car, then I hear Chresanto's door open before I hear the sound of him heaving, and I know he's throwing up. I nervously bite on the bottom of my lip, thinking about what Chresanto said just now as he continues to throw up. Once he's finished, he gets out of the car and closes the door. He's lucky I put a trash can beside the passenger door the last time I had to bring him home because he wasn't too happy when he had to clean his own vomit the next morning.
"Can I have the keys to get inside?" he questions, leaning on top of his car. I hold his keys out, and he takes them. "Thank you." He opens the house door and waits for me to go in before he follows me, closing his garage. "Do you need a shirt?"
"Please, if you don't mind," I answer. The outfit I had on before would just have to count as my underclothes for the night. Chresanto walks up the stair case, and I stay downstairs, looking at the pictureless walls.
"No, I'm telling you, home girl had a fat one on her," I hear coming from the living room. "It was like J.Lo and Nicki had a baby, my nigga."
