was a rare occurrence back at the warehouse and as she entered the steaming water, her body melted from appreciation. The tub was large enough for a group of people to sit inside and she stretched out as the scent of shea butter entered her nose. This is crazy, she thought. 24 hours ago she didn’t even know that something like this existed . . . now here she was thrust in the middle of it all, feeling slightly overwhelmed because she was unsure of what was expected of her in return. It all seemed too good to be true.
Liberty soaked her body until the water ran cold and hurried to the closet to dress. She was taken aback when she stepped inside. It looked like a fashion boutique. She had never owned more than one outfit a day in her life and as she thumbed through the racks of designers she was floored. She picked out a long-sleeved, backless, mini-dress, with studded shoulder accents and matching designer shoes. The expensive fabric felt so foreign on her skin, and she felt slightly out of place.
A knock at the door caused her to turn around.
“It looks good on you,” Abia said. “You ready? The others are waiting for us.”
All of the ladies gathered in the personal salon and for the first time Liberty saw the type of women she would be working with. They were a completely different breed than the ladies on the track. Everything about these new bitches shined. It was obvious that they were getting money; even after the house took its cut, the girls were stacking paper. Everything from their Brazilian blowouts to their perfectly manicured hands and feet indicated that they were far from amateurs. This wasn’t a hobby . . . this was a career, a lucrative one. Abia put her hands on Liberty’s shoulders and escorted her to one of the styling stations. As she stood behind her looking at Liberty’s reflection she saw a gold mine. Once Liberty was cleaned up she would undoubtedly be the most valuable girl in the house.
It took hours for Liberty to make her transformation. Her long bone straight hair and Chinese bangs accentuated her face perfectly. Abia had gone all out . . . no expense had been spared. By the time the makeovers were complete the new girls couldn’t be distinguished from the old. Even Liberty was in awe of her own beauty and tears accumulated in her eyes as she looked at her reflection in amazement.
“This is unreal,” she whispered, unable to quit staring at herself.
“It’s real Liberty . . . you just have to embrace it,” Abia whispered as she handed her a crystal wine glass. Abia turned to the group of women and raised her voice so that everyone could hear her as she addressed all of the new girls that she had just rescued from the warehouse. “You all have a choice to make. You can stay or go, but this is the time to decide. If you would like to walk away . . . there is the door. You can do so without any repercussions, but if you would like to stay and live this life then lift your Pinot Grigio in the air.”
Abia waited and noticed that every single glass was lifted in the air except for Liberty’s. She turned towards her and asked, “What do you say? You can go out into the world and be ordinary, or you can stay here and live extraordinary.”
Liberty lifted her glass and Abia smiled in satisfaction. They sealed their agreement with a toast . . . it marked a new beginning for Liberty. It was the next phase for a young woman whose life was predestined for tragedy.
A’shai pushed the all-black Range Rover down I-75 on his way to East Detroit to check on his father’s crack spots. Baron quickly introduced him to the family business, and he took to the streets like a duck took to water. A’shai had quickly moved up the ranks and became his father’s eyes and ears to the streets. By day he was a college student but by night he ran the most sophisticated and lucrative drug operation Detroit, Michigan had seen in years. He couldn’t help but to think about how Baron handled Bonzi earlier that day. It made him reevaluate his tactics. Baron was a strategic thinker and it was as if he had played chess with Bonzi . . . and won.
A’shai