Officers squeezed through the passengers passing us.
“You can’t touch her here.” Gage calmly, quietly uttered the words. “What the hell you thinking? I thought you were smarter than Bruno.”
The barb stung. I had no blood thirst. A burst of relief followed; maybe his take on things wasn’t what I thought. Or, they were words uttered to make me comfortable. I stared unblinkingly at Gage. Let the games begin. “I was offering advice.”
Gage leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He cocked his head and stared past me at the black girl as he locked his fingers. “Leave. Now.”
I would not directly look at her, and instead, glanced over my shoulder. “You heard him, little niggeress; get out of here. You got lucky today,” I grumbled. If she said anything, I knew it would be hell getting her off the train. I kept my mouth shut, silently willing her to do the same. Time stretched on.
Gage shifted, and I moved to counter his position, completely turning to face him in my seat. A litany of words was spouted behind me in a flurry of movement.
“Fuck you,” she spoke up, loudly as she pushed past me, her hip knocking my shoulder.
I sat back and watched as she pressed through the throng of riders surrounding us. The train ground to a stop. Commuters traded places, entering and exiting the car. I could no longer see the woman I felt the need to protect.
“You got a taste for the forbidden?” Gage slowly turned his head and faced me.
I held his gaze and exhaled. “You let her go. I’m wondering if you have an affection for niggers?”
A deep, rusty chuckle erupted past his lips. “You’re smarter than Prof’s average minions.”
“I’m no one’s minion.” White pride was about individuality. The idea that many people with the same thoughts were more powerful than a single person fighting to maintain the equality we are quickly losing. “I am just one of a lot like minded people protecting our rights.”
Gage combed his fingers through his hair, pushing the strands back. A hint of a smirk lifted a corner of his mouth. “Not when you associate with the enemy.”
“A little harassment didn’t hurt her.” I grinned in return. “It was fun.”
“Interesting.”
I didn’t like the way that sounded.
“Prof know you got a taste for darkies?” Gage continued.
I eased back into my seat and settled in as the train resumed. Our little headquarters was a few stops ahead. The action gave me time to think. “Whatever you think you know about me—prove it.”
“All I have to do is mention it. Prof will take my word.”
My heart pounded in my chest. Death wasn’t something I feared, but what would happen to her if Prof put the word out she was someone he was looking for? “Do it!” I challenged, taking a gamble.
More rusty barks of laughter escaped through Gage’s lips. “I like you. I hope the time doesn’t come that I have to kill you.”
“If one of us ever has to die…it won’t be me.” I shrugged. A grudging respect has been established between us. Everything would have to play out now. Time would tell exactly what Gage was thinking through his actions and staying away from the little, black woman is more important than ever. I exhaled slowly.
“Keep your bad habits better hidden, and we won’t have to find out who will die first.”
“White Power,” I uttered as I closed my eyes to feign sleep. This world—my world was feeling more and more suffocating.
11
Harper
For the love of God; what the fuck!
I was done—done and then done again. What the hell kind of seriously messed up friends does this dude have? Were they all as assholey? That’s what I get for riding public transportation. From now on, my plan was to stay in my own socioeconomic atmosphere with likeminded people. I was seriously ill equipped to deal with that kind of bigotry and hatred. Seriously, who in their right minds could?
Unfortunately, the universe was playing some majorly twisted joke on me. My frigging car wouldn’t start the next day, and Justin was still out of town, Serena was at her part-time job and Steve was already pulling into the parking lot at school.
Damnit anyway.
I pulled out my phone. “Dad.”
“Sorry, Harper, it’s Teresa. Your father isn’t available right now. I can take a message or maybe there’s something I can help you with?”
‘Yes, you can put my damn father on the phone’ is what I wanted to say but refrained.
Play nice.
“No, that’s fine. I’ll call him later.”
“You sure? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Tell him I’ll call him later.” Then, I hung up the phone, not wanting to be on a minute longer than necessary. I sure as hell was not going to tell her to let him know about my car problems—again. The second time in a few weeks, two too many times. It was most definitely time for a new car.
I had my car towed off to the mechanics, catching a ride with the driver, hoping they could have me back on the road in no time. That would be a ‘no.’ I was not feeling any happier when the mechanic told me they’d call me in a couple of hours after they’d run diagnostics on it. He didn’t believe it was the same problem I’d been having last time.
Yeah right!
They probably took one look at the car, one at me and saw dollar signs—cha ching! One brainless female, and suddenly, there are all these extra problems with the damn car that never existed before I took it to them to begin with. I should have taken it to the damn dealer, but it was too far from my condo— not that they’re any better, just more expensive.
I walked into the lobby area and called an Uber, the app showed the closest one was twenty minutes out. What the H? I tried Lyft. Same thing. I stared at my phone. What in the world was going on?
“If you’re trying to catch a Lyft or Uber, don’t bother. There’s some large convention in town tying them up, and there’s been an accident that’s messing with traffic.”
“Thanks,” I said to the service guy who’d spoken to me. “Any chance for a loaner?”
“Sorry, we don’t really do that here.”
I sighed, dreading what was coming. I left the shop and walked down to the T to catch the train. I only had one class today, and it was going to be cutting it close. If you got there late, the professor wouldn’t let you in, and he marks absences. This might be my first one, but I had to try.
It was a big train; I shouldn’t have any trouble avoiding seeing anyone on there I didn’t want to. To make sure of it as the train pulled in, I moved down to the end of the platform; so by the time the train stopped, I stood before the last car and got on there.
It wasn’t too crowded, but I made sure and sat next to someone who was seated next to the window. I placed my bag down on the floor and leaned back. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, wanting to block out the sights and sounds of everyone around me. I tried to take shallow breaths because I will never get used to the scent of stale body odor and week old food. But, as the train slowed to approach the next stop, I felt the person seated beside me move, as though they were getting up. I didn’t bother to open my eyes. But something made me.
Perhaps it was the fact I could feel someone else take the seat across from me—or self-preservation, not sure, maybe both. Suddenly I found myself looking at the man I’d been doing my damndest now to avoid or ignore. Yet, the way my face heated and my body flushed at his presence, told me that was a lie.
I guess I’d been right all along. We can’t seem to ignore each other. Still, I wasn’t going to make it easy for him—not in my nature. I was truly tired of all his posturing and bullshit. This time, I hadn’t been the one to go looking for him. No question he sought me out. Had he seen me walk by the other cars before and followed me unto this one? It gave me both a stalker kind of feeling, but at the same time, something more. Perhaps, for the same reasons I’d gotten on the train the last few times, if not this time,
looking for him.
I didn’t hesitate. I stared hard at him. If I could growl, I would. “What do you want?” I glanced past him looking for one of his bastard friends. “What? No sidekicks this time? So, you’re all alone on the train with little old me?”
“I have never had an entourage. Never will.”
“Whatever! I don’t need your bullshit or your crazy ass friends either.”
“I don’t remember asking you if you did. I don’t remember initiating any of our freaky ‘meet ups.’ You don’t have sense to be afraid of me or my associates.”
“What is there to be afraid of?” I tilted my chin up, daring him. In that moment, I realized I really wasn’t afraid of him.
A snort escaped past his lips. “You should be. I keep telling you. I’m no fairytale villain, and you’re not ready for me.”
“You know you can be obnoxious and hateful.”
“Yet, you follow me.”
I shook my head. “Oh no. Not this time. You found me. But, you do need someone to tell you about yourself. You need to know you’re wrong.” The fact hurt my heart he couldn’t see it.
“Why do you keep trying to force your beliefs on me? I didn’t ask for them. I did not ask you to follow or contact me. You got a dose of reality, and you don’t like it.” He sighed, long and low. “I’m tired of fighting with someone who is constantly harping on her version of views, without constructively listening to mine.”
I had to sit on my hands to stop myself from shaking some sense into his head. “People are people. Aside from the psychopaths, there is no fundamental difference between them. You are a jerk for not seeing that!” I tried my best to keep the hurt out of my voice, but it snuck out anyway. I couldn’t help it; what he was stung. It shouldn’t, but that didn’t seem to matter. Even though we were arguing, there was this draw, something between us. I gave a damn; why can’t he?
“It’s obvious we come from two very different places—worlds that should have never collided,” he said.
For a minute, he stared at the lock I’d just brushed back off my face. Did he want to touch it? My God, he leaned forward a bit like he wanted to, did I want him to? I leaned forward slightly to see what he’d do. Instead, he sat back and crossed his arms over his chest.
“Why are you following me?” This time, I asked the question.
He stared at me for a long moment before answering. “Yeah. I’m not.”
We both knew he lied. He sought me out the same way I had him. I had wanted to know more about him. In truth, what I’d learned hadn’t been good. Yet, in spite of everything, we were still talking. But, since I couldn’t really explain it, I didn’t really expect him to.
His gaze never left mine, and something in my core reacted because there was heat in that gaze. Not the hate kind, in contrast to what his words implied. The fact he sought me out this time, spoke louder than his words. The way he looked at me was one I recognized because I’d seen it in other men.
His phone dinged like he got a text. He checked it and replied. I was curious as to if it was a woman. Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming sense of jealousy, which only pissed me off.
He put his phone away.
I just stared at him.
“Where do you live?” he asked.
“Why?” I asked confused.
“I’ll make sure you get home, or wherever you’re going. Then, it’s best if we stay away from each other. Let me remind you of what I told you before. I am not a good man.”
I snorted. “Sure. Whatever you say.” My heart never stopped hammering against my chest again at his nearness. His eyes were so damn blue. Like the waters in Horseshoe Bay Bermuda. Was he right? Was he like the Bermuda Triangle—dangerous to travel through? Would I lose myself if I kept staring at him? But, his eyes roamed over my face too. If either of us leaned forward, just a bit more, our lips would touch. With that thought, my gaze shifted to his mouth. His lower lip was slightly fuller than the upper one, which was nicely outlined with the slight mustache he sported and framed within his goatee.
I blinked. “Leakey,” I blurted out.
“What?”
“You’d asked for proof, evidence to contradict your beliefs, Louis and Mary Leakey. Look ‘em up. Do you read things other than what this ‘Prof’ recommends? Or, do you practice selective reading?” I glared at him.
“If it has nothing to do with the movement, it’s not something I will concern myself with.”
“So, deliberate ignorance?”
“Just me being stupid I suppose.”
“You asked for evidence. I gave you a way to find it yourself. We all crawled out of the same pond. I’d love to be a fly on the wall and see your face when you read about them.” I chuckled.
He frowned at me but glanced up as the train started again. I heard his softly spoken cuss word.
“Your stop?” I guessed.
“Where is your stop? Didn’t we already pass it?”
“So, you know where I get off?” He said nothing, only stared at me. I checked my phone. “Damn. I only had one class today, and I missed it.” I’d been so focused on him, I hadn’t even noticed we’d past my stop.
“I don’t have time for games, Harper. I’m getting off at the next stop, with or without you.”
I sighed. “I live in Back Bay.”
“Your family can afford that?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have a condo in Back Bay. My family lives in Beacon Hill.”
“Get the fuck out of here. You kidding me? This is the shit the Prof talks about. Affirmative fucking Action at work. Better jobs taken by undeserving fucking hacks. Of course, you people can do well. You have it easy. Meanwhile, hard working white men and women don’t get into neighborhoods like that. How long did it take your people to crawl up out of federal housing?”
“First of all, I don’t live in any low-income housing, never have. There isn’t any that I know of in my neighborhood. If anyone built anything that’s a set aside, trust me, the new owner fixes it up a bit and flips it for more than they paid for it. My father, I’m sure, also paid full price for the house I grew up in. I got into school because of my grades, you jerk. GRADES. Harvard takes nothing less than the best. I happen to be fucking smart.”
He snorted.
“What? You applied and didn’t get in?”
“Never had an interest to.” The train slowed down, pulling into the next stop, and he stood. “You coming or not?”
“You don’t have to see me home. I can take care of myself.”
“Not if you’re following guys like me around. I can’t see how. Roaming around, the way you do, you need a keeper.”
“Is that supposed to be you?”
He said nothing. Merely headed toward the door. I sat for a minute, wondering what the hell I was doing. But as soon as the door opened, I jumped up and followed him. He glanced at me and smirked.
“For the record, you followed me this time, not the other way around.” I reminded him. He still hadn’t really explained why he felt the need to follow me this time. Neither of us seemed quite ready to let the other go. I wondered who would be following whom next time.
Dachs stuck his hands in his pockets and glanced around.
I frowned. “You lost or something?”
“Nah.”
I started to tell him I could just call a car, but I didn’t. My curiosity was back in full force. I wanted to spend more time with him. I wanted to figure him out—what made him tick? I needed to understand why I was so attracted to him—why I needed to understand him and his hatred. I should be running in the other direction. Instead, I walked with him to the escalator and crossed over to the other side to take the train back to my part of the city. A man who was not good, as he’d claimed, would not have offered to make sure I got home safely. He was a puzzle I needed to figure out—either that or lose my damn mind.
He didn’t say another word to me, but he seemed restless. He seemed to constantly contin
ue to scan the area. Was he searching for someone? Then a thought occurred to me.
“Are you worried one of your ignorant friends will see you with me again?” I snorted. “Heaven forbid they kick you out of the Klan.” I was so angry, my stomach clenched. The train pulled up. “You know what? I’ll see myself home. I made a mistake. You’re not worthy of getting to know me.”
He ignored me. The door opened, and we stepped back for people to get out. I walked on first, determined to ignore the jackass. It was pretty empty, but I made my way to the other end of the train and sat down by the window. This section of seats all faced forward. I didn’t expect him to take the empty seat right next to me. I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. I was both angry and sad.
I glanced around. “You sure it’s okay to take this seat next to me? You know what? Never mind, I don’t want you near me.”
“You have no patience. I go where I please. This seat has my name engraved on it. Which means you are in the wrong place.”
He did not just toss my words back at me. I stared at him again. I wanted to smack him. Dear God, did I want to smack him. He made me so angry. I’ve never felt like this before. I took a deep breath and let my anger drain. Violence was not the answer with him. I was left with frustration. Frustration that neither of us really knew the other, would never get past the surface, not at this rate. “You’re not who I thought you were.”
“Who did you think I was? I thought I made myself pretty clear,” he said.
“Doesn’t matter now.” A sense of loss filled me—for what, I wasn’t sure.
“Didn’t my tats give me away?”
“Lots of people have tattoos. It’s considered a work of art among some. Most of it has meaning to the wearer. Doesn’t make them hateful people.”
He tilted his head. “What did you think this meant?” He pointed to the HH initials at the side of his neck.
I snorted. I’d seen it as a sign. A sign that I needed to get to know this man, but I’d be damned if I told him that. Instead I said, “My initials are HH.”
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