Chapter Sixteen: Invincible
It was a few days later when Rich received the phone call. Bishop had requested that Angel perform at the annual, in just a few days. Angel was far from happy about the news. It was never good when another pimp took interest in another’s girl. Rich wasn’t too happy either. He was territorial of her, but it was out of his control. And so she would perform at the annual.
The annual. It was more like a party for pimps, hosted by Bishop Bordeaux, the most famous pimp in the area. All the pimps and high paying clients would attend. There would be drugs, alcohol, weapons, and of course, prostitutes. Pimps could purchase new girls or trade them. Clients could pay for any act they wanted. Nothing was illegal at the annual.
Angel was working over a new dance routine for the annual when Rich walked down the steps into the basement. “It’s looking good.”
Angel pulled the earbuds out of her ears “what?”
“Looks good.”
Angel nodded before stopping the iPod’s music and set it down on a nearby table. Despite the cold air of the basement, Angel was sweating.
Rich pulled over a folding chair and sat quietly as Angel took a moment to catch her breath. The basement was where the girls usually practiced before doing a new routine at the clubs. There was a pole that the girls could practice on, but otherwise it was an empty basement, only otherwise occupied by a few boxes storing a hodge-podge of stuff.
“Do it again.”
Angel gave him a blank look, still catching her breath. She inhaled deeply before picking up the iPod and unplugging the earbuds. The external speaker kicked on automatically, and she hit play on the iPod.
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The day before the annual, Rich got the text. It contained the address of the warehouse where the annual was being held. The address always comes last minute. This way police don’t have time to set up a raid.
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Rich pulled up a warehouse. He had driven to the address of the annual, but from the looks of it, he and Angel were alone. There were no other cars in the lot surrounding the warehouse and it’s neighboring warehouses. They seemed abandoned, with their dirty broken windows, faded paint, and chains and locks on the doors. Rich looked at Angel, this was not their first time at the annual, and he knew they both knew that despite appearances, they were far from alone.
Angel stared out the window.
A man tapped Rich’s window, making them both turn. He wore dark sunglasses, a black button up shirt, and black slacks. An Uzi pistol was in his right had, which he had used to tap on the window. The man motioned with his head, towards a nearby warehouse, where two similar looking men were standing guard outside a large garage door.
Slowly, Rich drove towards the door, where the two other men had begun to raise it. Without needing an order, Rich drove into the warehouse.
Other vehicles lined the interior of this warehouse. Each vehicle was more expensive than the next. The attendees of the annual were always looking to impress others, and even though their cars were separated from their owners who were busy attending the annual, they still represented the money and reputation of their owners.
Rich parked between a white Porsche and a yellow Stingray that Angel guessed was fairly new, given its temporary tags.
Once parked, Rich turned off the car and got out. He walked around the car and opened Angel’s door for her. She obediently slid out of the car. Rich took the black and grey fur coat from Angel’s hands, and held it open for her to put on. Obediently, she slid into the coat. She would wear the coat until her performance on stage at the annual. Until then, no one needed to see the black dress she wore, with it’s low neckline that extended down between her breasts, and even further down her back, showing the dimples in the small of her back. The coat was longer than the dress, and covered her down to her mid thighs. Faux leather stockings stretched just over her knees, and the platform heels she wore glistened in the dim warehouse light. Her dark hair had been teased into a thick mess, which she let hang loose down to her chest. Her make-up, like usual, was dark and heavy around her eyes, and pale across her skin, with crimson lips to accentuate the dark appearance she had.
Rich put his arm around her shoulders protectively, and the two of them followed one of the men across the warehouse and down a set of steps on the other side. Once down the steps, they were led down a long hallways, who’s inhabitants were just a few boxes and wooden crates here or there. Two more men stood at the end of the hallway, one with a clipboard, the other with an Uzi to match their guide’s.
“Richard Price.”
The man with the clipboard flipped his list, then left a mark next to Rich’s name. He then turned his attention to Angel. “You must be Fallen Angel.”
Angel didn’t look at him.
“Jezebel, Amber, and Brandy are coming with Diamond,” Rich noted, letting the man know that three of his other girls would be coming with one of his bottom girls.
The man nodded and stepped aside as he wrote the information on his clipboard. The guard next to him pushed the door open for them, and Rich and Angel stepped through.
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The music was blaring as lasers and strobe lights were flashing around the room as Angel took it all in silently. There was a 360 stage in the center of the room, with rotating mirrors in the center. The girls would go downstairs to the dressing room, then come up behind the mirrors, and rotate them in order to stand on stage. It was a bit more elaborate than the stage Angel was used to dancing at the PD club.
There were multiple bars, scattered throughout the room, along with tables and VIP booths. There were six hanging beds, that extended from the ceiling, where clients could pay for a prostitute and do the deed right there in the middle of the room, with only a sheer canopy around the bed to block the view.
Along a far wall was another stage, where girls were being led, naked across as clients and pimps bid money for either their services, or to buy them outright.
Clients and pimps were buying drugs and weapons from one another, discussing business, and drinking alcohol as if it were water from the fountain of youth.
This was the annual.
“Do you want to go down to the dressing room until your show, or stay up here?”
Angel turned her head towards Rich as she decided, “stay.”
Nodding, he led her to a nearby bar, his arm still on her shoulders. He ordered a bottle of beer, and a Shirley Temple for Angel. Once they each had their drink, Rich ushered Angel into a VIP booth next to Riggz, who had a girl on each side of him, one chewing on his neck, the other looking extremely bored.
“What’s up my man?” Riggz questioned.
“Not much. We just got here.”
Angel set her drink down on the coffee table in front of them, then sat down next to Rich.
“Woah! Baby girl got some color” Riggz commented, noticing Angel’s bruises from the assault at the club, despite the attempts to cover the dark spots with make-up.
Angel tensed. She hadn’t been sent to the motel to work with Frank, but Rich had kept her under house arrest as the bruises healed. No one pays for bruised girls, so Rich had kept her busy with housework and counting money from the other girls. They had not really talked about what happened, and Angel never did figure out if Rich was upset that she refused business.
Noticing her body tense, Rich put an arm around Angel and pulled her to him. “Yeah, she took a beating from a salty client.” It was a half-truth, the man was never a client, but Rich did not want his favoritism for Angel to be noticed.
The bored looking girl next to Riggz piped in “yeah, I feel you girl. Had a man crack my cheek when I said I won’t lick his nasty asshole.”
“You’re gonna lick my asshole later girl, if you know what’s good for you.”
Rich shook his head at Riggz. Angel remained silent.
“Look, if it ain’t the little suckling prossie again!” Trixie, one of Bishop’s drugged out girls exclaimed as she and another drugged girl came over to the group.
Rich looked up at the two druggies, but Angel continued to stare into space.
“Haven’t seen you on the street in a while, musta suckled up to daddy real good,” Trixie tried to bait Angel “or maybe you’s just not worth enough with color like that. You know you ain’t suppose to bite your daddy when he’s go his dick in your throat, dumb bitch.”
Angel glanced up at Trixie, only just now noticing she was there.
“Watch your mouth, slut” Rich warned.
“Oh Papi, you know girls like her waste your time,” Trixie cooed at him, pushing her knee between Rich and Angel, so she could straddle his lap. “ You can’t get what you wanting from prude bitches,” she unbuckled his belt.
The other girl slid over on the bench next to Angel, licking her lips like a hungry animal. Angel raised an eyebrow at the girl.
“Papi, you know you wanting something only a girl like me can give,” she unbuckled his pants and tried to unzip them, but he swatted her hands away. She leaned into him, suckling his neck before whispering in his ear “I know you like it rough.”
Rich rolled his eyes before shoving Trixie off of him, her body thumping onto the coffee table. The girl next to Riggz grabbed the two drinks to prevent them from spilling.
“Oh yeah, Papi! Take me hard baby!”
Rich leaned over her and grabbed her hair in one hand, and her throat in the other. “Listen here you stupid filthy whore, I’m not interested in your little sex games. Go find some other john who wants your disease” he growled.
“What did I tell you about those two Trixie?” Bishop’s voice was low and smooth, but laced with annoyance.
Both Trixie and Rich looked up at Bishop. Rich released Trixie, who quickly scurried to her feet. Rich glanced over at Angel who was growling at the second girl, as the girl tried to slide her hand up under Angel’s dress.
“Missy!” Bishop warned the girl.
Angel growled again. She was like a feral cat who’s last line had been crossed.
The girl jolted, looking up at Bishop with innocent eyes.
“I told Willie to keep you two whores away from Rich and his girls. You two don’t listen.” Willie was one of Bishop’s pimps who forked over the money his girls made, in trade for drugs from Bishop.
“But Daddy never said we can’t do business!” Trixie stuttered.
“I don’t care if he told you or not! You leave my man Rich here alone, filthy whore! Willie should have disposed of you a long time ago! You make me no money!” Bishop’s tone started to grow angry.
“I, I wasn’t doing nothing!”
Bishop backhanded Trixie across her right cheek, hard enough to toss the girl down onto the table behind her. Tears instantly swelled in her eyes, and she whimpered as she held her face.
Bishop pulled a handkerchief from the breast pocket of his purple suit jacket and wiped his hand with it, acting disgusted from touching the girl. “Get going girl, before I dispose of you like your daddy should have when I told him to years ago.”
Trixie scurried to her feet and hurried away, with Missy right behind her.
Rich buttoned his pants and was buckling his belt when Bishop sat on the other side of Angel. He watched the two cautiously as Bishop looked Angel up and down, and in turn, Angel looked him over too.
Bishop reached over and grabbed Angel’s chin, gently moving it at first, then forcefully to tilt her face to him. “You’re a very beautiful girl, despite that color there.” Angel tensed, but said nothing.
Rich continued to watch the two, nervous as Bishop’s interest in his girl seemed to intensify.
Angel looked up at Bishop as he commented on her appearance. She looked him dead in the eyes, locking his stare. She gave him the same cold, warning stare that she had given Rich many times before in the privacy of his bedroom.
Rich tensed, watching the two lock eyes.
“Oh, feisty one, aren’t you?” Bishop clicked his tongue in a tsk tsk fashion. “You’ve been with Rich a long time, haven’t you?”
Angel remained silent, still giving Bishop the same cold stare.
Knowing he was not going to get an answer from her, Bishop tilted her head slightly, breaking the stare, but continued to look over the bruises on Angel’s cheek. “How long has she been with you, Rich?”
“Eleven years,” Rich responded, taking his beer from the girl next to him.
“That long, eh?”
Rich nodded.
“How old are you sweetheart?”
Angel didn’t respond. Her jaw clenched, and she continued to stare Bishop down, but he wasn’t watching her eyes.
“Twenty-two,” Rich responded for her.
“Hm. Eleven’s a pretty young age for you, Rich.”
Rich didn’t respond.
“You’ll take a wild baby like her, but you won’t take what I offer you?”
Again, Rich didn’t respond.
“What makes you so much better than my inventory, girl?” Bishop forced Angel to look at him by her chin.
She glared. Her eyes were sharp, piercing like icy cold daggers, but Bishop seemed to be impenetrable.
“I think it’s about time you choose up, girl.”
Again, Angel’s jaw clenched as she glared at Bishop. There were no other pimps around for her to choose from. Rich was tense behind her, Bishop was demanding she leave him for some other pimp, and Riggz was too busy with the girl next to him who was chewing on his neck and sticking her tongue down his throat.
Instead of choosing, Angel abruptly stood, breaking free from Bishop’s grasp on her chin. She looked down on him with her icy stare. “I pity the fool who thinks he is invincible.” And with that, she stepped over him, and walked off towards the dressing room.
Bishop and Rich watched her go.
Rich knew he wasn’t invincible, he knew if Angel wanted to take him down; she had the courage and the will power to do so.
Bishop watched her with raised eyebrows, clearly surprised in her disobedience and disrespect. He was at the top of the pecking order in this life. A silly little bruised whore wasn’t enough to bring him down. But boy that fire, that spunk she had…it was enough to catch his interest.
To both pimps, Angel was a challenge. She was a challenge to control, to break, to love. And she was a challenge both pimps were willing to accept.
She was the invincible one. She just didn’t know it.