"Thirty million people want a shot, how much would it take for you to spread those legs apart?"

~Gatekeeper (Jessie Reyez)

°~°~°

The night was as cold as the heart of the bastard that did this to her. Not that she could blame him. Maybe her response would’ve been the same if she was as loaded and egotistical as him. Even as the aches all over her body jolted up a notch whenever she laughed, she still allowed the chuckle to rip through her throat.

The face he made when he touched her. His eyes turned to living saucers at the contact. She wasn’t turned on in the slightest, no secretion, no rise in her breathing, nothing. Her nature was simply dead. She felt that was the reason he was so pissed in the first place, that as well as the fact he must have felt inferior to her at the realization whilst he had the most raging hard-on with a rather unimpressive stature.

Typical toxic narcissistic asshole of a man.

At least they left her with her belongings as well as the gifts he gave her. They could’ve taken it, but they didn’t. She could honestly say she was grateful for that. She still had no money though. Maybe if she found a pawn shop nearby, she could trade in the new merchandise.

Letting out a pained dry cough, she groaned from the ache that shot throughout her long, slender body and pushed herself to her feet. The heels she wore annoyed her, which led to her pulling them off and tossing them to the side in the dark alley she was left in.

Handbag clutched between her fingers, she began to make her way through and passed the bagged garbage until she found herself finally exposed to the street lights of New York City. She wasn’t thick in the slightest, but a bit of meat formed her hips to give her a soft feminine curve and her slightly loose dress showed it. The hot pink silk material complimented her smooth light toasty hue, that she and others always admired, but ridden with forming bruises. Easily ignoring the stares from the little number of people passing by, she unhinged the seam of her purse open and pulled out her phone. But of course the damned thing had to have it’s screen smashed to nothing.

“Last fucking time I’m ever keeping an iPhone.” She rolled her eyes wondering if she could trade it in as well. Sighing, she turned to walk away in search for a pawn shop, but some asshole breezed passed her and away with the items she had in her hands.

The a-hole even took the broken phone.

“Why can’t I catch a damn break!?” her voice bellowed as she looked up to the night sky. Running her fingers through her silk pressed hair, she heaved an irritated sigh as she went to the closest bench that happened to be right in front of an ice cream and pastry parlour.

She didn’t even take notice of the little boy that sat there before her licking away at his cookie and cream double scooped ice cream on a sugar cone that seemed a little too big for his little hands and mouth to manage, but it clearly didn’t stop him from hungrily biting into the damn thing like a nerveless monster. It was the pleasurable and proud moan that rumbled from the little boy that had her glance over at him and widen her eyes, “ain’t that cramp your teeth, kid?”

“The cold doesn’t do much to my nerves.” He simply shrugged. His narrow light brown eyes looked at her unpresentable state and frowned suddenly shoving his ice cream cone towards her, “do you want some? You look like you need it.”

“I’m fine.” She declined in the most polite tone she could seeing that she always came off as naturally irritated, “shouldn’t you have a mantra about stranger danger or somethin’?”

The little boy pursed his lips taking in her busted lip, wild hair and slightly swollen cheek, “I think you’ve faced all the danger tonight. If anything you should have that mantra about me. Plus, if you get too touchy I can weaponize my ice cream cone. It’s sharp and I’m sure you need eyes.”

“You’re right.” She nodded seeing his point and with the aches all over her body, she was pretty sure she couldn’t even take on this eight year old. Not that she’d need to? Hopefully.

“… So, what’s your name?” he asked licking his ice cream again, eyes still on her.

“Kenya, but kinda prefer Ken.”

The little boy frowned sweeping away his long fine twisted hair away from his face, “you’re a pretty girl. Why a boy name like Ken?”

“I’m a man at heart.” She shrugged, “plus I fend for myself. I’m my own man basically.”

Biting into his ice cream he took out his phone, “my name’s Aiden by the way. Gimme a sec.” he murmured before a smooth yet Jamaican accented voice came from his phone, “you fada nuh bring you home yet?”

“No, mummy. He’s still back in the club.”

“Club? But yuh a eat ice cream. Aiden, don’t tell me yuh sneak weh again!”

Aiden only bit into his ice cream, chewing happily on the cookie he received, “fine, I won’t tell you that I got bored and definitely snuck out the club with dad’s wallet and bought ice cream, chocolate and cake. Also, I won’t tell you that I’ve had like two sugar rush phases already.”

“Aiden!” she yelled making her son giggle, which she soon joined in on. Ken’s wondering eyes caught a glimpse of the woman on the screen and the only word she could think of on spot was, “damn.”

“Who dat?” Aiden’s mother asked.

Ken snorted at her unconscious wording but winced from the pain in her belly and at the side of her head. Aiden suddenly spun the camera to the woman who sat beside him, “this is Kenya, but she prefers Ken. They just robbed her and now she’s my bench buddy. Don’t worry I threatened to stab her in the eye with the ice cream cone if she tries anything.”

“Seriously, Aide?” she asked with the shake of the head, “good evening to you, Ken.”

“Good evening to you too, ma’am. Your son has been quite the company.” Ken smiled lazily, most likely favouring an ugly train wreck even with the make-up on her face as her eyes slightly drooped from tiredness.

“Bernice White, call me Niecy though.” Aiden’s mother insisted, “Aiden, mi ago call yuh fada. Don’t hang up.”

Muting the call he reverted his attention to Ken, “how old are you?”

“Twenty-four.” She answered casually.

“Are you on any kind of drugs? Prescription or otherwise?”

This elicited a chuckle from Ken, “really? Is this some kind of interview?”

“If you want it to be, sure.” The little boy told her biting into more of his ice cream, a cringe running through Kenya’s spine , “my father fired my nanny some time after mummy left. Not that I need one, but whatever. She was only there because she liked him anyway, and she cooked like dad. That man can’t cook to save his life. Anyways, they promised me I could pick my next nanny next time for hire. You seem cool and like you need money. No offense.”

“None taken.” She responded honestly running her long slender fingers throughout her thick hair, “and thanks. I just might take you up on that. Broke life ain’t it. Been on survival mode for a while now.”

“Well, survive no more, for your saviour is here.”

Kenya snorted with a shake of her head, “how about no.”

“Aiden?” Bernice called out and her son took the video call off mute, “yes, mummy?”

“You have to walk back to the club, I can’t get through to your father or any of the bouncers I know. Mi know mi should and carry yuh with mi enuh.” She murmured the last sentence more to herself than him. The irritation mixed with weariness evident in her tone, “Aide, just go back please and be careful. Take me off speaker and switch to voice call.”

After that Ken could only hear Aiden’s side of the conversation. Her eyebrows popped up when she heard him suggest she accompany him back to the club. The boy went silent after that, nodding his head at whatever words his mother said until he eventually handed the phone to Ken, “mummy wants to talk to you.”

“Uhm, yea?” she questioned after taking the expensive and oversized thing to her ear.

“Sorry about Aide. He’s something special. He wants you to walk him back to the club? Would you so kindly do so? If yes, he’ll take a photo of you and send it to me.”

Scratching the side of her head she blew out a little breath, “yea, sure.”

“Good, let me speak with Aide again, please.”

The walk was a tad bit lengthy and in the mean time Aiden stayed on call with his mother. Kenya couldn’t help but take small glances at the woman either from here and their. Bernice, or Niecy as she insisted to be called was stunning in the face. The woman’s skin was dark with an odd undertone of an olive, face naturally with darker contours in the perfect places, natural lashes long until bent back unto her slightly darker eyelids with her brows dark and sculpted neatly upon her forehead. She clearly had some Indian in her, told by her hairline, doe-ish almond eyes and narrow aquiline nose just between and below.

Aiden took her nose, clearly and her old be tone but his shade of brown leaned more to the caramel like Kenya. Maybe he had white in him too? She wasn’t sure, but he was a handsome little thing himself too.

Her admiration on the two came to a halt as the approached a large building with music vibrating right through, “this is where your father works?” Kenya asked with an inquisitively risen eyebrow. The word “Heat” flashed red in a bold signature-cursive over the club entrance with an amass of people waiting to get in.

Aiden glanced back at her with a shake of his head, “naa, he just owns it.” Grabbing her slender hand with his small chubby one, he tugged her towards the entrance. The bouncer instantly took recognition of the kid and widened his eyes, “when did you get out?”

“The true question is, did I really ever go inside if I got out in the first place?” Aiden asked blinking. The bouncer blinked back with a deadpan expression before stepping forward and jotting his thumb in the direction behind him, “get inside… wait, who’s the cute, tall, and depressed?”

“My new nanny. Eyes off!” the little boy scoffed seeing the curious gaze in the bouncer’s eyes and flirtatious bite of his lips. Tugging Kenya behind him he rolled his eyes, “disgusting. Ignore them, and don’t worry, papa ain’t like that.” He reassured Ken not even bothering to look at her as the up tempo beat resonated throughout the room and their bodies. The heat from the countless array of people engulfing them with a contrast to the cold night air they were just faced with on the outdoors.

Ken already didn’t like this, but seeing as she already agreed on bringing the boy to his father, she’d part then. Aide guided them both passed the sea of people, some of them took recognition of him with smiles and waves as they gave way. Of course, some would look at Kenya’s crazy appearance, but being uncaring of it she rolled her eyes and boycotted the unwanted attention.

“We’re almost there!” Aiden shouted loud enough for her to hear.

It didn’t take long for the two to approach a set of porcelain steps lined with blue lights and two oversized men at each sides. Aiden exchanged a few words with them, then in no time the two were in the upper VIP section. On their entrance all eyes went to them. Allowing herself to be pulled further into the room she scanned it as well as the people. High class, rich societal people. Famous people.

At least that’s what Kenya assumed, she wasn’t really up with social media these days. Yet the people their looked billboard worthy. She would’ve looked it too if she wasn’t barefooted, messy looking and being hauled around by an eight year old.

Then her eyes met with the man that had her beat up and tossed out into an alley. Women flocked around him and Kenya had no intention of even saying a word when his black eyes met hers… then she realized Aiden tugging her in the Indian man’s very direction.

Her body stiffened, but Aiden insisted to drag her and for some dumb reason she went with it until they were both in the centre of the semi-circular club couch. The music was somewhat lower in that room, so no one had to shout too loud in order to be heard. And as her eyes stayed unconsciously locked with the brown man the silence finally broke, but by Aiden.

“Papa, this is Kenya. Mom had her walk me back here. I got something to eat and got lost.” The last part obviously a lie.

Kenya awaited the asshole to respond but it never came since an unfamiliar voice came instead; one deep and heavily accented by the Italian tongue. Her eyes snapped to the direction, just now taking recognition to the blue eyed man that sat farther to the edge with a woman seated beside him but nothing like the yes entourage that flocked around Muhammad Alí.

“You ought to stop sneaking off, Aiden.” The man murmured in a low groan.

“You ought to be keeping an eye on your kid.” Ken voiced with an incredulous look on her face, “he’s eight. He’s gonna wonder around when bored.”

Aiden’s father sighed before rising himself off the blue leather seating and nudged his chin to a door further in the back of the room. He led them into the direction and Kenya didn’t look back at Muhammad as she left, the man’s dark eyes boring into her narrow back.

“What do you want money or something?” He asked as they entered the door revealing a narrow haul. They then went passed another door disclosing an office, “and why the fuck are you barefooted in my club? You shouldn’t even have been allowed in here like that. Your pretty but you look a mess. What happened?”

Kissing her teeth, Kenya rolled her eyes and released Aiden’s hand already pivoting to exit the room. Aide tightened his finger around hers as he pressed his phone to his ear. With an obedient nod the voice call got switched to video and Bernice was on speaker.

“Yuh disgust me more while enuh, Giovanni.” Her sultry voice sighed out, “yuh ago give her money and give her a room in the hotel.”

“Says fucking who?” he scoffed.

Bernice’s voice went solid, “says bomboclaat me. You lost track of Aiden again. Mi tired a yuh a do this foolishness every time I leave. You’re almost-… you know what.” The woman paused realizing it made no sense arguing with her husband, especially in front of new company. A sigh passed her lips as she addressed Kenya, “Ken? I’m going to get you a room at the first hotel you find down the street. The Russi hotel? Just go front desk and tell them Miss Bernice White sent you. Do you have a phone?”

“It got stolen.” Ken muttered as she looked down at the phone screen, “not that it would have much use.”

Giovanni’s jaw ticked, “you’re being petty, Niecy.” He gritted out in reference to her not using his last name.

“Like yuh naa grow moustache. Leave me alone. And if when me land and she nuh in a the hotel mi and yuh a war, Gio. Aiden baby?”

Turning the camera to him he furrowed his eyebrows, “yes, mummy?”

“Bathe and brush you teeth as soon as yuh reach home and go straight to bed, okay? Your father is going to bring you home now.”

“What? I’m still-.”

“Gio, don’t. Carry mi baby home now. Him have school a morning. Have a goodnight, husband. Goodnight to you Kenya, I’m sorry about what happened, use room service as you like. And Aiden if you have trouble sleeping call me, ok? Send a text when you reach home. I love you.”

“I love you too, mummy. Goodnight.”

…

“Bye, Kenya!” Aiden shouted from the limousine as he waved her a farewell.

For the first time that night, Kenya smiled as she waved back, “don’t do drugs, kid.”

“No promises!” he yelled back as the limo drove off causing the doorman’s eyes to widen as he opened the door for Kenya then entered behind her.

Kenya soon got to the lobby desk, gave her name and Aiden’s mother’s. The receptionist immediately smiled, handing her a key and informed her that she would be showed her room by one of the available bell boys. Moments later she found herself in a suite much bigger than what she expected for the night. And as if timed perfectly, the moment she locked the door behind her the room phone rang.

“Hello?”

“It’s Niecy. Just checking in if you’re comfy.”

Nodding she replied, “I am. This is more than I need for one night, but thank you, Miss White. I appreciate it. Honestly.”

“You can call me Niecy, baby love. And it’s for the week if you need it.” Bernice told her with a small pause before saying, “I’ll call you in the morning, okay? Aiden needs me. I’m happy you’re comfortable. Get some rest.”

“Oh. Okay. Goodnight, Miss White. I mean Niecy.”

“Goodnight, deary.” The older woman responded and then the line got cut.

Running her hand through her wild medium brown hair, Kenya sighed then began to strip.