Page 130 of Roulette: The Madam

“I understand you have a good heart and got yourself in a fucked up situation, but I will not excuse your behavior.Especially not when it’s affecting everyone who loves you. I have absolutely no feelings for or about you, yet it’s affecting me too.

“It’s time to tighten up. I won’t visit this home again unless it’s to drag you out kicking and screaming. Otherwise, go get the help you need. You have the resources and you have a man in your corner that is ready to be a helping hand.

“Don’t lose at life if you don’t have to. You’re in a position to win, Yara, so win. You’re beautiful with a heart of gold. That’s why you’re in the position you’re in. If you’ve never done so in your life, wise up.

“Because, you are on the verge of losing your daughter. Permanently. Woman to woman, I can’t let that happen, but I can’t make you get better either. You have to want to get better yourself.”

Her hands brushed up and down her arms as she nodded. Tears streamed down her pretty face. As much as I wanted to comfort her, I couldn’t. She needed to feel everything she was feeling right now.

I was saving my hugs for the teenager she was directly responsible for harming. There was no room for her in my arms, on my chest, or on my shoulder.

“Shake this shit, Yara. Or, you won’t be able to shake me.”

I left her on the porch with the consequences of her actions at the top of her head. Having another woman show up at your door to tell you, you were destroying your daughter and on the verge of losing her was the reality check she needed. As I slid into my driver seat, I prayed it would help her put her best foot forward.

Aimlessly,I drove around the city, recalling life as a fifteen year old. I was headed to university with my older siblings who were graduating or close to graduating. Knowledge came naturalfor us. We consumed it almost every hour of the day while awake because there was hardly any hindrances in our daily lives.

We were stair-steppers. Rhea had given birth to one girl after the other. So, our lessons started early. By the time we were ready for grade school we were already reading, writing, and performing on the level of most fifth and sixth graders. My mother never led us to believe any lesson was impossible.

If I wanted to learn the same thing that Roaman was learning, that’s what she taught me. If I was interested in what Range was mastering, then I was welcomed to do so. There were no boundaries. There never had been until we entered the school system where our lessons were restricted to our age and grade.

We quickly learned that structure wouldn’t work for us so we advanced in school much quicker than the other students, eventually graduating years before the average child. College was different. Though our parents had to petition for our course load, we could tailor our schedules to better fit our thirst for knowledge consumption.

Malaya’s life was unfolding just as ours had. But, the stress would negate her willingness and eagerness to learn. It would stifle her growth. Hinder her from reaching her full potential. The thought of it alone hurt.

I need a fucking drink.

I changed directions.Nippy’s Bartopwas my destination. They had the best cucumber mint martini. The saliva pooling in my mouth kept my foot on the gas.

12:26a

My wheels pulled up to the edge of the curb as the numbers on the clock changed. I stepped out, fully expanding my limbs as I locked my SUV.

Click.

Clack.

Click.

Clack.

My heels rounded the car, ending up on the sidewalk. Though I rarely wore jeans, tonight was the exception. I didn’t feel the need to make the house call in full couture or full glam. Not this house call, at least.

The bell sounded as I pushed the door open. The small hole in the wall was one of Clarke’s greatest hidden gems. It was nestled between Windrige, home of the middle and upper class, and The Commons, home of the middle and lower class.

There was only one vacant seat at the bar. In a haste, I claimed it, just as I’d claimed the orbs of everyone in the shotgun establishment. It was small. It was live. It was the perfect business structure to thrive. Low overhead and high traffic. The owner’s, Jason, pockets were laced.Nippy’swas only one of his investments. He had four others that were built on the same strategy.

“What can I get for you, darling?”

“A cucumber mint martini with a salted rim and two shots of your finest vodka.”

The familiar voice raised goosebumps on my exposed arms and back. Though we were facing eighty-five degree days in Clarke, I iced over. My neck and wrist weren't the only thing that froze over.

“Good to see you, Roulette.”

Chino’s cologne was audacious. So was he. Nevertheless, I remained composed. I didn’t hate him, not even a little. But, I wasn’t interested in entertaining him after the eventful day I’d had.

“I wish I could say the same,” I admitted.

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