Read Daddy's House for Free Online Page B

she said with resentment, grabbing one of my nipples at the same time. “I think you got what it takes to make some serious money in this town. I got somethin’ better in mind for you.”
    Damn, those were the exact same words that came from the conductor on the train.
    I snatched my breast from Tracey’s grip, and followed her into the apartment. Either my vision was fucked up, or her place was some trash. A real shit hole , I thought. I couldn’t believe my eyes. As I entered, I stepped on shit like old magazines and dirty panties right at the door.
    What the fuck?
    It smelled like a damn dog had pissed all over the place, but there were no pets in sight. I took a few steps forward, trying to find some floor space so I wouldn’t fall and bust my ass, when I noticed the unspeakable. This nasty heffa had a dirty sanitary napkin sitting on the edge of the couch. That was it for me. I knew I had to find another place real soon.
    Tracey grabbed the pad like it had a right to be there. Then she bent over and picked up a few dirty plates from the floor, as if that little spot cleaning was all she needed to make the place presentable. I thought to myself, you’ll need Neicy Nash and the Clean House crew up in this spot. I was so stunned. I found comfort near the wall. I waited for her to say something comforting like, make yourself at home .
    Instead she said, “Bitch, why you standin’ there lookin’ retarded? Move that stuff off the couch and sit down. Don’t worry, bitch, this the fun house!”
    I folded my arms like I always did when in uncomfortable situations, and plopped down in the raggedy cloth chair. My eyes darted to the end of the hall, letting me know Tracey’s place was small. There were only two doors to the back of the apartment, which meant a bedroom and a bathroom. Damn, she really is doing bad .
    Tracey was never the type to hide her feelings, so she started talking about my mother, and the rest of the family who had gotten locked up with us. She wanted to know how it all happened, and why I was the only one who got out. She’d heard the rumors that spread throughout the family, but wanted to hear it straight from me.
    I held nothing back. It was actually therapeutic. We talked for hours, while I gave a detailed account of how things got started, who was doing what, and how much money my mother was really making. Before long, Tracey looked at her watch, and jumped up like she was late for work or missing something really important.
    She walked over to a tiny hall closet, threw me a worn towel and washcloth, and pointed to the bathroom. “I’ll get you a t-shirt and some shorts. Clean yo’self up before Luke gets here.”
    “ I’m not really up to meeting Luke tonight. I need some sleep,” I said.
    “ Look, there’s some bologna in the frig. Make yo’self a sandwich and wash yo ass. I’ma be back. I’ma bring Luke,” she said, with her hands clutching her flabby hips.
    “ I don’t eat bologna,” I said to her backside.
    “ Well, eat a damn mayo sandwich.”
    Suddenly, back to back loud knocks banged on Tracey's door. At first I was okay with the loud knocks until I glanced at Tracey. She always played Billy Bad-Ass, but her side-ways funky look made me think she was unsure about who knocked uncontrollably on the other side.
    "Who the fuck is it?" she yelled nervously, moving toward her front door. "You ain't let nobody follow you, did you?" she whispered.
    I looked crazily wanting to choke her ass. I shook my head back and forth rapidly like a mute. Words weren't important- my life was. If the person on the other side of that door wanted me, I damn sure wasn't gonna let'em hear my voice.
    The knocks got louder and Tracey yelled again. "Who is it?"
    Still no response.
    Tracey backed up slowly as the banging sounds increased. It sounded like somebody was using a pole to punch at the door. "Open the fuckin' door!" a voice yelled.
    My body froze, but my eyes remained glued to the door. I