Page 81 of Thirst

“What? How do you figure I owe you anything? You have taken everything I've made while working here.”

Shay giggles again as she exhales smoke into the air.

“Nah,” Von says, shaking his big head. “I haven't taken everything. How could I, when you've been hidin’ those secret hookups with ol’ boy? You know, the ones where you’ve been goin’ to that guy’s place and havin’ him pay you to fuck there instead of doin’ it here in the Viper Rooms.”

My heart sinks, just as Shay lets out her loudest laugh yet. There it is. She told him. After overhearing what I said to Majesty about going to Amari’s penthouse, Shay has finally run her mouth to Von. I guess I should've known she would tell him, but I was hoping to get out before she ever did.

“Yeah,” Von says, smirking at the dumbfounded look on my face. “Shay told me everything. You've been gettin’ paid to go to that boy’s house. Me and Shay tried to get you to be a Viper Girl, but you kept shootin’ us down, with your bougie ass. But you went out there and set up your own little Viper Room, thinkin’ I wouldn't find out. Well, you got caught slippin’, and now you owe. I was gonna pop up at your apartment tomorrow, figurin’ you would try to quit after your little exhibit, but you showed up anyway, tryin’ to flex. We’ll just handle it now. So tell me, how much was he payin’ you when you went to his place?”

I swallow hard as defeat settles in my limbs. I can't believe this is how the conversation is ending up. I'm right back to being trapped. Right back to being hustled and controlled by the same two assholes who have been doing it for so long. I feel conquered by his stranglehold on me, and give in with far too much ease. Just like I always have.

“Twenty-five-hundred,” I admit, kicking myself for being so weak in the face of his bullying.

“Goddamn! Are you kiddin’ me?” Von snaps. Even Shay’s eyes widen. “He paid you thousands? Oh, you owe me big time. So don't think for a second that you're walkin’ outta here without payin’ me back everything you took from my club. You met that asshole here. You agreed on that price here. So as far as I'm concerned, his place was just an extension of my Viper Rooms, and I want half of everything. And since you were out there keepin’ secrets, I'm gonna add interest on top of it. So, let’s just say the figure is … let’s say five thousand and we’ll call it even. You got that on you right now?”

Tears sting my eyes. “Of course not, Von.”

“Oh. Well then I guess you don't quit. You can't quit until you run me my money. Artist, painter, content creator, OF girl, bitch who sells pictures of her feet on the internet, whatever you wanna call yourself, you still belong to me, just like every bitch in here. You don't leave until I say you can. You got that?”

The first emotion that hits me is sadness. I'm sad that he's winning when tonight was supposed to be my night. I'm sad that he's taking from me. Again. I'm sad that I still owe him. I'm sad that I have no control. But then the second emotion hits like a shockwave.

Fury.

I'm furious that he's telling me that I owe him money that I made outside of these shitty walls. I'm furious that I've been giving in to him for all these years, and the only thing he can do is continue to take from me, never satisfied. I'm furious that I've allowed myself to be treated this way for so long without giving him the same energy he has given me. I haven't been defensive nearly enough, and I'm furious that I ever let him force me to feel sadness.

The fury fills up my cup, diluting the sadness until there is none left. There's no way I can allow this man to steal the joy I earned tonight, or the future I saw when that final piece sold for thousands of dollars. I'd made up my mind that I was getting out of this club for good, and nothing in this world will make me go back on that.

“No,” I say, confidently. “I'm not giving you a damn thing. You've taken enough from me already. I'm not giving you anything else. You're not my pimp. I quit, and there isn’t anything you can do about it. So fuck you, fuck this club, and fuck that stupid bitch on your lap. Y’all can have all of this trash. I'm out. Goodbye.”

I turn around and start walking.

“Aaliyah,” Von bellows. “Don't try to leave. I'm not playin’ with you. You owe me money. Stop walking.” When I don't stop, he loses it. “Alright then. Shay, go get that bitch.”

I hear the order being called out, but I don't even turn around. I try to speed up my steps, and I get my fingers on the door, but then my head is yanked back. Shay has grabbed me by the hair and is pulling my head so hard I think my neck will break in two. I let out a scream as she tries to drag me back over by the bar, but then I choose to fight back. I steady myself on both feet, spin around, and punch Shay in the side of the head. She stumbles but doesn't release her grip on my hair and I end up stumbling with her.

“You fuckin’ bitch,” she barks, then she hits me back.

A vicious punch lands squarely on my nose, making blood gush like a geyser. I bring my hands to my face and she hits me again, her knuckles landing on my forehead. My body tries to go limp, but she has me by the hair and will not let go. If I don't fight back, this might be the end of me.

Disregarding the pain in my face, I let go of my bleeding nose and ball both fists. I swing like a madwoman, hitting Shay in her face over and over again, until she finally lets me go. But I'm too mad to just turn and run now that I'm free. I jump on her and slam her head against the bartop, then punch her again and again while Von watches from his seat like this is Pay-Per-View. I keep hitting Shay until all she can do is cover up like she’s being attacked by a mob. She leans over on the bartop and shields her head with both arms while I punch her anywhere my fists will fit. When I'm satisfied, I finally back up and watch her cowering over the bar.

I don't know how I’ll explain my bloody nose to Amari, and I don't know what he might do when he sees it, but at least I did what I needed to do. There's no need for him to come in and turn the place out. I got what I've always wanted—my freedom from Von, and the chance to whoop Shay’s ass. I'm content, bloody nose and all.

I shoot a final fiery glance at Von, who still hasn't budged, before turning around to walk out. I wipe dripping blood off the tip of my nose as I take my first step, then I hear the familiar sound of glass breaking behind me. I spin around, but it’s too late.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” Shay screams, just before she hits me in the neck.

I stagger to the side from the blow, thinking she punched me again. But when I raise my hands to try to make sense of the strange pain in the side of my neck, I gasp and my eyes bulge. She didn't punch me. She stabbed me, and left the broken half of a beer bottle lodged in my neck.

Realization rushes in quickly, making my heart race. I can tell from the size of the bottle that this wound isn't something anyone could recover from. I don't know if she meant to, but with this move, Shay has killed me. I know it as my vision starts to blur and I feel warmth running down the left side of my body.

Blood. Lots of it.

“Oh shit,” Von shrieks as he finally stands up. “Shay, what the fuck?”

Shay’s expression isn't that of a satisfied woman. I see terror and instant regret in her eyes. “I didn't mean to … Oh god. Aaliyah, are you okay?”

I couldn't answer if I wanted to, but of course I'm not. I try to lean against the barstool closest to me, but I can't control myself as lightheadedness strips me of my balance and I fall down with a loud thud.