Free No Home Training by Ms. Michel Moore Page B

Sunday night, who was here?”
    â€œI think it was Kenya and Chocolate Bunny.” Boz thought back to that night. “Yeah, it was. I think some of the girls fucked up her tires. Her crazy-ass was waiting for a tow truck.”
    â€œWell check it.” Storm leaned in sliding Boz an envelope with close to $5,000 in it. “If anybody asks, you and Kenya locked up and left together.”
    â€œNot a problem.” Boz, who had a wife, six kids, and a girlfriend on the side, could definitely use the hush money.
    â€œSo remember, the last time you seen ol’ girl, she was sitting in her car. Okay?”
    â€œAll right, Storm, but what about the cameras in the lot?”
    â€œDon’t worry. I got the tapes.”
    They drank one more beer then opened the doors for that night to a small group of businessmen who were waiting along with a handful of others. Within an hour, Alley Cats was packed. One by one the dancers took their turns center stage, swinging on the pole, standing on their head, opening their legs and just about anything else they could do to entertain the rowdy crowd and make tips.
    As a nervous Kenya sat at her usual spot at the end of the bar sipping on her third glass of white wine, she kept remembering the haunting look on Chocolate Bunny’s face when the first bullet struck her. No matter how loud the music was, Kenya heard echoes of London saying she was keeping Storm’s baby. Tonight wasn’t her night and to make matters worse, the girls started arguing in the dressing room about one of them stealing the others regular customer.
    Tipsy as shit, Kenya burst through the door yelling at all of them to shut the hell up and lower their voices.
    â€œThis needs to stop now!”
    â€œShe started it!” Jordan pointed her finger. “This ugly ho don’t know about me!”
    â€œGet your hand out my face, bitch, before I bite that motherfucker off!” the new girl promised.
    â€œKenya, I think it’s about time you better tell this whore the rules around here! She green to this game!”
    â€œExcuse me! What did you say?” Kenya placed both hands on her hips. “Please don’t tell me what the fuck I need to be doing in my own club!”
    â€œWhat?” Jordan, who was used to doing as she pleased, was shocked. “You talking to me?”
    â€œYes, I am! You seem to be the only one who’s forgetting who the boss is!”
    â€œNo, I haven’t!” Jordan bucked. “It’s the same Negro who owned this son of a bitch before you came to town from Detroit thinking you all that, Storm!”
    Kenya had just about enough of Jordan’s sassy-ass gold-filled mouth. If it wasn’t for her calling Paris in the middle of the night telling her about Chocolate Bunny being pregnant, most of the bullshit she went through wouldn’t even have gone down. Now she had the audacity to get fly with her. It was time Kenya showed Jordan and any other nonbelievers who was truly running thangs.
    â€œOkay, Jordan. That’s it! You’re really feeling yourself tonight, so I’ll tell you what! You got about five minutes in total to grab that dirty G-string out your cottage cheese ass, get dressed, and raise the fuck up out of here before I smash your head into one of these lockers! I put that on everything I love in this world!”
    Watching Kenya remove her earrings, all the dancers backed up against the wall making room just in case any blows were passed. Not one of them was in the mood to catch a black eye or beat down on the humble. Most of the girls remembered the class-A ass kicking Kenya put on Royce a few months earlier and hated the thought of being in Jordan’s present position. Standing with a small wad of cash in her hands and a stupid expression on her face, Jordan looked in Kenya’s face and decided it was in her best interest not to try her.
    Instead, the always gossiping dancer got dressed,