Never Again, No More 2

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

As Lucinda, LaMeka, Charice, and Trinity struggle to turn their lives around, they each hit a crossroads. Despite their surmounting troubles, they still hope for a better life. But what will they sacrifice for a chance at a life they've always dreamed of? And at what costs? It won't be easy, and the consequences can be detrimental, and in some cases, even deadly.

Facing your fears can come at a price, and these ladies come face to face with their worst nightmares. No matter what they decide, changes are on the horizon for all of them. They'll find out that getting back to themselves will require some tough decisions. Will they decide to succumb to their situations, or will they learn how to truly say Never Again, No More?
 

Release date: July 28, 2020

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

As I sat on the other end of the phone call, I was happy but sad. Here my girl Charice was finally confiding in us about her new man and that they just got engaged five days ago while I was waiting to go inside to perform at Club Moet. My stage name: Spanish Fly.

At the audition, I was drunk as fuck, but I managed to perform for them. Obviously, I got the gig, as I referred to it, because it sure as hell couldn’t be considered a job. Pooch gave me the nickname Spanish Fly afterward because I have a tattoo of a butterfly that covered my entire ass. Each butt cheek had a wing, and when I dropped and did my backward split, it spread like it was flying away. I felt so disgusted when I performed for my best friend’s man and even lower as I saw Greg and him smiling and critiquing my moves, then realigning their dicks, trying not to get a hard-on. Men could say whatever the fuck they wanted, but their dicks don’t discriminate against pussy.

Pooch told me that was my signature move and to end every show with it. Then he asked Greg to show me the ropes. Luckily, Greg and Pooch thought with the head on their shoulders and not the one between their legs, regardless of how turned on they were. They kept it strictly business with me after the performance. However, I could bet you a dime to a dozen, Pooch dicked down Trinity real good that night. Surprisingly, Pooch kept his word and didn’t put my business out, so none of my friends and family knew. I was sure eventually they’d find out from dudes on the block, but that’s the only way. I wasn’t volunteering shit, and apparently, neither was Pooch.

Back to the situation at hand. Charice had called Trinity and me on three-way and told us all of the details of her vacation/proposal. We were shocked out of our minds to find out her new man was Lincoln Harper! How this bitch ended up with kids by one NFL star and engaged to another—her baby daddy’s best friend, no less—was beyond my stretch of imagination. This heifer was going to live the good life no matter what. All I wanted was a little bit of the financial comfort that she had. Just a little bit. I didn’t have to be balling out of control. I would settle for an education and a decent job that paid well enough to pay my bills and leave me with a fair amount of money for extras. That’s all. Instead, I was an unemployed, uneducated, single mother who stripped for a living.

I knew Charice was excited, but I had to go. She was my girl, and I was happy for her, but admittedly her newfound love bothered me because of my current circumstances. It was like shit was working out for everyone around me and not me. I wanted to be included. I wanted to be the one to bear good news instead of always griping about my troubles. And honestly, it was so hard to fully be excited for someone else when the weight of the world was on your shoulders. It may have been wrong, but it was my truth.

I congratulated her again so I could end the call. But before I could disconnect, she made me promise not to say a word to anybody until after they had officially broken the news to Ryan, who didn’t know about their relationship either. I just shook my head and promised. I wanted to tell her she should’ve told him sooner, because I had no doubt in my mind that those two dudes would kill each other. Ryan may have been an ass in high school and college, but now he loved Charice, like loved her. Part of me felt bad for him because he was forever trying to get back with her and was totally oblivious to the fact that Lincoln was sneaking in from the back door.

Honestly, even though I felt bad for Ryan, that part had made me want to high-five the hell out of Charice. It takes a bold and bad bitch to pull some shit like that, and she did it without even trying to be malicious. That’s what made that shit so cold. She wasn’t trying to be mean, and neither was Lincoln. They honestly loved each other. But the reality was it also made that situation that much more dangerous.

Shit, but enough about her. I had my own problems. I had to figure out how the fuck I could stop stripping and find something that I wasn’t afraid to tell my friends and family about. I ain’t gon’ lie now, stripping paid the bills. After my show, I normally did private table dances for a few of my regulars, and that’s how I made good for the week. On average, I pulled $1,000 to $2,500 a week. Sundays and Mondays were my days off, and I worked Tuesday through Saturday night. I was going to start getting my unemployment check soon, and I was slated to start classes this summer. So even though Charice’s news made me feel a little bad, I could admit that not everything was so bad, but stripping was definitely not good.

After hanging up, I walked in the dressing room and put on my leather panty covers, bustier, and black heels. As I brushed my hair, a set of girls came in the back.

“Girl, Spanish Fly, the club is packed, and the niggas is ballin’ tonight,” Alize shouted as she counted her money.

“Oh yeah?” I asked just to make small talk and threw back my third shot of Jose Cuervo.

“Hell yeah,” Chocolate Flava yelled as they high-fived each other. “One of them niggas asked us to do a private party at his house! That nigga is paying six Gs. You need to be down with us. We could split it three ways. You know niggas be crazy for y’all Spanish chicks, and then there’s that damn sexy-ass split you do,” Chocolate said as she walked over and threw her arms around my neck. “That shit gets me hot myself, boo,” she said, gliding her hand across my titties. “Real hot.”

“Ah shit,” Alize said. “Do I need to leave up out of here?” She laughed with some of the other chicks.

I slapped Chocolate’s hand away. “Nah, I’m good, and I like dick only.”

“That’s ’cause she ain’t never had Flava lick that cat before,” another chick named Black Pearl said.

Flava looked up at Pearl with a sexy glint in her eyes, then sexily waltzed up to her, and they kissed. “Don’t knock it ’til you try it, Spanish Fly,” Pearl added as the other chicks hooted and hollered.

I downed another shot. See why I had to get away from this environment?

“Leave her alone. Y’all know she the goody-goody,” Alize said to the others. They dispersed. Once they went about their business, Alize walked up to me and sat down beside me. “Why you do this shit?”

“Huh?” I asked her, looking at her with a confused stare.

“Bitch, you heard me,” she said, smacking her lips before she continued. “You ain’t like the rest of us. We do this shit ’cause we like it. Say what you want, but I’m using what my mama gave me. Ain’t no shame in flaunting what you got to make it. To me, it’s only shameful if you think it is. I don’t give a fuck. I’ll get down every which way to stay on top. Dancing, fucking, it don’t matter, shit, male or female. If he or she got that green, I will dance, shake, fuck, and suck whatever they ask me to. But this shit ain’t you. So why do it?”

Alize caught me off guard with her question. I’d never gotten close to any of the girls because I knew I was different. She was right. They did this because they wanted to do it. I did this out of necessity. I didn’t think I was better than them. I just wanted better for myself and my daughter. However, listening to Alize, it was the first time I felt comfortable enough to share my personal feelings with any one of them. To be honest, I needed it. I couldn’t talk to my family or, hell, not even my girls because of Trinity’s relationship with Pooch. Being able to talk to someone was a welcomed and needed release.

“I got fired from my job, and I got a baby to support. That’s why,” I said plainly. “Y’all do what you want. I ain’t knocking it. I’m just here to dance and get my money. After that, I go home to my baby. She don’t know what I do, and she don’t need to know. All she needs to know is that her mami loves her and will always make a way for her. That’s all that matters to me.”

Alize nodded. “I feel you. I ain’t got no kids, but I feel you. I wish my mama felt like that about me. Maybe I would feel different today,” she said with sadness evident in her voice.

For the first time, I realized all of us had a story to tell. Maybe my reason seemed more genuine than the next female’s, but ultimately we were all women lost in this man’s world, trying to get in wherever the fuck we could fit in. And for the briefest of moments, Alize was not just some chickenhead stripper I worked with. She was a misguided woman simply trying to make it, like me.

“Bitch, you getting me all emotional, and I gotta go dance soon,” I joked to lighten the mood.

She laughed, picking up on my lighthearted banter. “Hell, you was the one telling that sad-ass story.”

Nonchalantly, I shrugged. “You asked.”

Standing, she nodded and patted me on the shoulder. “You look good,” she assured me. “I’m sure the deejay is about to call you to the stage.” She picked up the hairbrush and brushed my hair down in the back.

“Yeah.” I glanced down and then looked up as our eyes met in the mirror. “Thanks for the talk. I needed it.”

“Ain’t no thang. We all do sometimes,” she said and set the brush down.

Just then, the deejay announced that I was next. “That’s my cue,” I said, standing up.

Stepping back, Alize eyed me up and down, then placed her hands on her hips. “Damn, bitch, you let me know if you change your mind about switching teams. I want first taste.” Alize licked her lips. “Damn, you look good.”

“If I ever bump my head and do that, you’ll be the first to know,” I joked, walking toward the backstage entrance.

“Bitch, don’t make me trip you up on the stairs and make you suffer a concussion,” she joked, turning to go to the front.

Alize was right. The joint was packed tonight, and these dudes looked as if they were ballin’ for sure. I walked out and did my thing to “Blame It” by Jamie Foxx. When I ended it with my signature move, the bouncers had to keep this one dude who was drunk out of his mind from storming the stage. I had so much money on the floor and on my thongs and garter, it was insane. As I walked to the back, I counted it up and found I had made $2,000 in my stage show alone. Damn!

Greg walked in the back. “You got some regulars wanting private dances, Spanish Fly,” he told me.

“I’m coming,” I said, tossing a shot of Cuervo before walking out.

“Damn, baby, you look good.” Greg licked his lips. “Too bad it can only be business between us.”

“Yeah, whatever.” I ignored him and walked out on the floor to one of my regulars. He gave me 500 bones off the rip, and I began twisting and dancing my ass off. I moved on to the next dude who had graced me with another hundred bones when one of the waitresses, Tiffany, tapped me on the shoulder.

“Spanish, those dudes want you. It’s the guy in the blindfold’s birthday, and they want you to give him a dance,” she laughed.

“Them dudes got money, Tiff?” I asked her.

“Shit, the one who asked gave me a fifty spot as a tip for one ice-cold beer, so I would say so. Don’t nobody tip us waitresses like that unless they’re a celebrity.”

“A’ight then,” I said, making my way over to the group of men. “They tell me y’all are checking for Spanish Fly,” I said as I approached them.

“Hell yeah. We missed your performance, but I’ve seen it before. You gotta do something special for my mans right here. It’s his twenty-eighth birthday. He’s a professional now, and he doesn’t really hang out like this no more. Show him what the fuck he’s been missing,” the one who requested me said, while the other men hooted.

“His birthday, huh?” I asked erotically. “Why y’all got him in a blindfold?”

“Shit, I had to keep you a secret until I could secure the dance,” he replied as his boys gave him daps.

One of the dudes smacked my ass. “Damn, look at that shit jiggle!” he shouted, sticking a fifty in my thong.

“I told you, dude,” the first guy said.

I walked over to the birthday boy and whispered seductively in his ear, “Are you ready to get caught in the Spanish Fly trap?”

He nodded eagerly. “Yes,” he said, trying to keep his composure.

“Hell yeah! Damn! I wish it was my birthday!” the guy who gave me the fifty hollered.

I began dancing on the birthday boy to get him hot, and he was shifting in his chair something awful as his boys started throwing money at me. I scooped it up. I bent down with my ass tooted in his face when his boy lifted the blindfold. I spread my cheeks and made them clap for him.

“Ooh shit!” he said excitedly as his boys hollered in pleasure.

More money fell, and I collected it all. I turned around to straddle him, and when our eyes met, I nearly choked. It was Mr. Sharper, my old boss! My heart rate was going a mile a minute, and suddenly I felt like a cheap slut.

He sat forward. “Lucinda?” he asked, confused.

“Oh shit,” I said nervously. “Mr. Sharper.”

“Dawg, you know Spanish Fly?” the guy who requested me asked as the others looked on in shock.

“Lucinda?” he asked again in amazement as I covered over my titties, turned, and ran away. “Lucinda!” I heard him yelling, but I kept running.

When I reached the dressing room, I paced back and forth nervously and drank a long swig from my bottle of Jose Cuervo. I couldn’t believe this shit! Of all the strip clubs in Atlanta, this dude had to show up at Moet! I never knew Mr. Sharper was so young. Hell, I never looked at him that way because I went to work to work, unlike the rest of the females who were constantly trying to get at him. That’s why they harped so much on me being his pet. The majority of them wanted him for themselves. He was a successful, good-looking, chocolate black man who I never in a million years would’ve thought I would cross paths with again, especially not at Club Moet!

Soon Greg came busting through the door. “What the fuck is you doing?” he yelled. “You ran off from some patrons?”

“I’m sorry, Greg. I am, but I can’t go back out there tonight,” I said to him as I gathered my things.

“What the fuck you mean you can’t go back out there? Yes, you are,” he hollered.

“No, I’m not,” I said sternly.

“Look! I don’t know what your beef is with them dudes. Did some ill shit go down?” he asked. “Me and Big Crunch will handle it.”

“Nah, they didn’t get out of hand.”

“Well then, Spanish,” he said, grabbing me by my arm and spinning me around, “you better get to explaining why you running off.”

“Look! I know one of them dudes. I never thought I’d see him here, and I just prefer to go home tonight,” I told him.

“I don’t give a fuck if you saw your daddy, Spanish. This is a business. Sex sells, so go and sell it!”

“I’ll sell it on Tuesday,” I told him.

“You won’t have a job on Tuesday if you don’t get out there!”

“I’ll holla at Pooch,” I said dismissively.

“I already did,” he interjected. “Pooch said if nothing ill happened, you needed to go finish up. He’s not going to have his customers not being satisfied because you getting a conscience. So if you don’t go back out there, by direct orders from Pooch, you are fired, Spanish Fly.”

Fuck me! That fucking Pooch could be a heartless-ass bastard. No wonder Trinity fucked Terrence that night. Pooch and I used to be down like four flats on a Cadillac. I knew him back when his moms still called him Vernon. He forgot it was me who stopped Big Mike from whooping his ass on the playground by letting him feel on my butt. And it was me who fed him the info about Trinity needing her rent paid so he could use that information to push up on her. I’d hand delivered his woman to him after years of his ass not being able to hook up with her, and he did me like this? Me? I should’ve known that puto only cared about his money, though. At the end of the day, he was and always would be a true-blooded hustla.

Panic kicking in, I made a desperate-ass move. “Yo, Greg,” I said coyly to him. “How can we make this square between us? I’m sure there’s something I can do so that you won’t, you know, tell Pooch,” I said, leaning on him sexily, slowly licking my lips. “I’ll do anything.”

Greg smiled and rubbed his hands together. With his ugly ass! But I was in a fucked-up situation, and I needed my so-called job. “Meet me in my office in fifteen minutes. I’m sure we can work some thangs out,” he said, gripping my ass.

“All right, boo.” I planted a wet kiss on his lips.

Greg licked his lips and shook his head. Then he turned to walk away. “Oh, and if you have a change of heart, don’t bother coming back,” he said and walked out.

I grabbed a paper towel and wiped his nasty kiss off my lips. I didn’t know what to do. If I followed through with this, I’d become another ho in the streets, and then these dudes would expect me to do anything to get down. If I didn’t, I’d be fired again, and I’d be broke in a couple of months with only my unemployment check to sustain me. I’d even quit Susie Q’s for this damn gig. I exhaled as I sat down in a chair in the dressing room and took another swig of Jose Cuervo before putting my hair up in a ponytail. Looking at myself in the mirror, I concluded, “Sometimes a woman has to do what she has to do,” and I prepared to go and fuck the shit out of Greg.

Just as I stood, some rosary beads that Nadia had given me fell out of my bag, and I picked them up. It was as if I heard God Himself ask me, “Where is your faith?”

I jumped because the voice was so real. I looked around, but there was no one there. It was just me and the beads. Tears instantly streamed down my cheeks, and I pulled out a picture of Nadia. That’s when I knew I couldn’t do it. Whether I was fired or not, I was getting the hell out of Club Moet. Alize and the rest of these broads could have it. I was better than this. Pooch just didn’t realize he did me the biggest favor in the world. Never again, no more did I have to walk through these doors and degrade myself. No matter what happened, neither stripping or fucking was the answer for me. Spanish Fly was officially retiring, and Lucinda was about to get on the job hunt.

I dressed and made my way to Greg’s office. When I opened the door, he was sitting at his desk with a box of Trojans.

“Ready, Ms. Fly?” he asked with a huge-ass smile on his face.

“No, I’m not. As a matter of fact, tell Pooch thanks, but no thanks anymore. I quit,” I said, turning to walk away.

“Spanish Fly!” he yelled. “I gave them niggas a hundred bones back to get a dance from Chocolate Flava! Get your ass back here!”

I turned around, took out a hundred spot, and threw it at him. “Now we’re even.”

“Don’t come here looking for work no more! Fuck you, Spanish Fly!” he called out as I shut. . .