Defiant

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Defiant Page 9

by Ursula Sinclair


  Not.

  But, it would be nice to see my dad. Maybe when I rescheduled it, I could do lunch instead, on one of his wife’s spa days. That thought cheered me up even more.

  Because of the rush hour traffic, it took me a bit longer to get home than usual. But, I had just enough time to change my top, something a little sexier and low cut. My heavy coat will keep me warm. The black leggings and short boots looked great on my legs. I added a little lip cream, took the binding out of my hair and let it flow over one shoulder and down my back to the top of my ass. I smiled at my reflection and rushed out the door.

  When I got outside, I took a deep breath and headed for the restaurant. I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath ever since, until I pushed the door open for the sports bar, and the aroma of meat on the grill hit me. It wasn’t an especially large place and just down the street from my condo. There were several televisions on all the time, showing one sport or another. I’d been there a couple of times. They made good burgers and only served American beer. It wasn’t very pricey but still a very modern, trendy restaurant. The bar was all chrome and glass instead of dark wood.

  “May I help you?” the hostess at the front asked.

  I’d been scanning the restaurant and at first I didn’t spot him, and then, I did. His eyes pinned me like lasers. He sat all the way in the back at the last booth with his back to the wall. “Thanks, I see who I’m here to meet.”

  I moved past all the tables. The place was full but not crowded, with lots of young people like myself, who either lived or worked in the area, but I didn’t recognize anyone.

  I slid into the booth, took off my jacket and placed it beside me—all the while, we just stared at each other. We might have done that all night, but the waitress came over and placed a couple of glasses of water in front of us. He must not have been here long if she was just getting the water for him too.

  “I’ll give you a minute to look over the menu,” she said. Two menus already sat on the table. “If you have any questions let me know. Meanwhile, what can I get you from the bar?”

  I ordered a glass of Chardonnay, and he ordered beer, then she moved off.

  I took off my jacket and settled down, placing my arms on the table, suddenly feeling very self-conscious to be there with him. For the first time, our meeting was very deliberate. Yet, he came when I asked.

  Because I asked?

  What did that mean?

  “Well…” he said, breaking the silence between us. His arms were folded across his chest, and his jacket was still on, not because he was cold, but like he still wasn’t sure if he should be there or not.

  “Well what?”

  “I’m here—talk.” His chest inflated as he inhaled.

  “I have a question for you, first.” I stared at him. Faded bruises outlined in deep purple marred his cheek. “What happened to your face?”

  Lord, was he violent? Of course he was.

  The waitress took that moment to show up with our drinks.

  “It’s nothing—a disagreement between brothers.” A wisp of a smile lifted the corner of his mouth.

  “Ready to order?” the waitress asked.

  “Give us a few more minutes,” I said, never taking my eyes off Dachs; his hadn’t left mine either—like we were both scared if we glanced away the other might disappear. “You have brothers?”

  “Not by blood.”

  I nodded, deciding to forgo the twenty questions. Some guys were like that with each other. The two guys so far I’d seen him with definitely gave off that kind of vibe. I glanced away and looked at the waitress who’d just left us. She was blond, busty and curvy with a cute face. I turned my attention back to him. “She seems more your type,” I said.

  “You’re curious about my type?” A wisp of a smile sent the corners of his mouth up.

  I shook my head and took a sip of my wine. “No, not really. You’re not my type either.”

  “Still, you waited for my call. What do you want?”

  “Why did you call me?”

  He reached for his beer and took a sip. “That was a mistake. I lost my senses for a minute.”

  “Yet, you’re here.”

  He glanced away from me, looking around before returning his gaze to mine. “I don’t know why. Right then, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  My stomach muscles fluttered at his words. This is what I’d been waiting for. “Yeah, I get it. Me either—I don’t know why I’m here, I mean. But, I know I have been thinking about you. Have you been thinking about me?”

  He waved his hand back and forth between us. “This…me, you—we can’t be.”

  His voice was low, laced with anguish. There was a sadness in his eyes, or confusion, perhaps both. But, I had to respond to him. I couldn’t help but respond to what I saw in those light irises. “I don’t want to sound like a recording, but I repeat: And yet, you called me, and you are here. What does that mean?”

  “It means it can never happen again.”

  That fluttering stopped. I suddenly didn’t want to eat. “Are you hungry?”

  “Not really,” he said.

  “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Just for a walk. There’s a small park near here.”

  He frowned. “That’s really not a good idea.”

  Dachs knew as well as I did that some places weren’t safe even in the daylight. “It’s fine, and it’s not that late. It’s barely eight.”

  He called the waitress over and told her we were leaving. She brought the check and he dropped some bills on the table. I stood and walked out. I could feel him stalking behind me. We hit the sidewalk and stared at each other. It was like we couldn’t stop, like in spite of who we were as individuals, something connected us really tugged at us. Even the cold in the air showed our breaths curling around each other. I shook my head to clear my fanciful thoughts.

  “Something else on your mind?”

  “Nothing.” I wasn’t ready to share that with him yet, if ever. “Come on, this way.” I snapped my coat closed. We walked a couple of blocks over to the park. It was part of a residential complex but also open to the public. There was a fountain in the center and benches around it, but it had been turned off. It was all in a very open space. You could be seen from the street. I walked over to one of the benches and sat down. You couldn’t see the water from there, but you could see the lights of the buildings. It was a pretty spot and quiet. Even though it was cold out, there was no snow on the ground and for those of us who live here you kind of get used to it. It wasn’t so cold we couldn’t just sit and talk for a while. Although, what exactly I wanted to say to him, I really wasn’t sure. Yet, when he sat beside me, even though he didn’t touch me, he sat close enough, I could feel his heat and smell the clean fragrance of him, probably from his soap.

  “Did you take a shower before coming to see me?” I asked. I don’t know why I did.

  Nerves.

  I was nervous with him. I could feel my stomach muscles cramp up; they had been tight from the time he’d called me. Just from the anticipation. I shivered. Lord this man could give me an ulcer.

  “You cold?”

  “No.”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I’m clean. If you want to go home…”

  I shook my head. “No. Why are you the way you are?”

  “I just am. Like you are the way you are. You’re trembling.”

  “Yes, but it’s not because I’m cold.” I glanced over at him.

  “Are you scared of me?”

  “No.”

  I’m not exactly sure which of us moved or leaned toward the other first. But, suddenly our shoulders were touching. He cupped my face with his calloused hand and I placed mine over his. Neither of us were wearing gloves. A jolt seemed to course back and forth between us. There was a connection. His eyes widened; yes, he felt it too. I wasn’t alone in whatever this craziness was.

  He tilted his head, and I ang
led mine to meet the touch of his lips. Tentative at first, our eyes were both still open. Then mine drifted shut as he pressed his mouth more firmly against mine. I parted my lips to see what he’d do, and when his tongue touched mine, all thought fled as fire burned through my soul as he consumed me. Neither of our lips were cool any more.

  I shifted to lean into him, placing my arms around his neck, one of his hands remained on my face, the other unsnapped my coat and snaked through the opening to grasp my waist, pulling me closer to him. Until we were flush against each other, my leg was angled over his. My shirt rose, and I felt his fingers touch skin. I shivered and could feel liquid pooling between my legs.

  It wasn’t enough. I wanted more skin against skin. His hand moved just enough to brush against the edge of my bra but not quite touching my breast, which drove me crazy. I moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound. The noise of a car back firing had us both lifting our heads but, my heart continued to race. I was still pressed against Dachs and could feel his heart doing the same. He glanced in the direction of the roadway, then his gaze returned to mine or rather to my mouth. I waited for him to kiss me some more, when he didn’t I was just about to take the initiative, but he slowly moved his hand off me, and I released my hold on him. He stood and took my hand, helping me to stand too.

  “I’ll walk you home.”

  I was disappointed that he didn’t keep kissing me, something had changed. He was thinking again, too much, so I knew he wouldn’t come home with me. Still, I knew I’d invite him up. We didn’t say a word on the ten minute walk to my front entrance, he stopped and looked at me.

  “Come up,” I said.

  He shook his head. “No. I can’t.”

  “Yes, you can.”

  “I…I have to go.” He stared at my lips and like a flower to sunshine I leaned toward him, but this time he only raised his thumb and traced it over my mouth twice.

  “Will you call me again?”

  “You have my number now.” He turned and walked away.

  Smiling, I watched him for a minute, then opened the door.

  16

  Dachs

  I will forever equate the sweet taste of wine to her lips. The feel of her mouth against mine is embedded in my memory.

  What the hell was I thinking? Contacting her was a mistake. I should never have touched her.

  The party was winding down. A pre-celebration for the success of the White Pride Parade that we would participate in tomorrow. The Prof had kegs of beer delivered; whiskey bottles lined the kitchen counter with large bottles of cola and cartons of juice. Ice-filled coolers lined the floor of the galley kitchen. The crowd had thinned out with couples breaking away to find a quiet corner to themselves—before the true fun began.

  I sat in a lone, high back chair by the window, nursing the same bottle of beer I started with an hour ago. Getting drunk, losing my senses, this was getting old. The new members of the brotherhood, youngsters really, one as young as thirteen, were loud and rambunctious. This was their initiation. There was an exuberance to their behavior, a freedom I well understood. As a group, we were invincible and no one, not even our parents, could tell us what to do. Later, when they weren’t thinking about it, they would be blooded in. I remember being beaten until my body was so bruised and bloody, it hurt simply to take a breath. It would be no less for the new members, the point of no return.

  I sucked in a deep breath and sank farther into the seat, allowing my eyelids to drift shut. It was her eyes, the molten milk chocolate, I got lost in. Before I knew it, I had to touch her. She thought I was scared to go out at night. That was cute; the night was my playtime. I was more concerned with being seen. In that neighborhood, it was unlikely, but if anyone discovered my secret…her…shit would roll downhill. I wasn’t ready to admit to myself that there was something between me and the girl, Harper. How could I explain it to anyone else? Those closest to me would see it as betrayal. Not only would I be killed, but she would too. I couldn’t let that happen.

  “Something troubling you, son?”

  I lifted my lids to stare at the Prof staring down at me. His smile felt forced, and his shoulders looked tense. I took a sip of my beer and collected my thoughts. It was better to keep my thoughts to myself. A corner of my mouth inched up. “Nope, just thinking about the march. Those niggers are in for a rude awakening when they realize that we are running a counter protest to their black parade.”

  The lines on Prof’s face eased. He took a seat on the ottoman. “It will be an event those monkey asses will never see coming.” A long sigh escaped my mentor. “I have been worried about you.”

  “Why?” Had I unknowingly let something slip? This girl, she’d managed to twist my thoughts, and I was too wrapped up in the simple touch of her to think about anything else.

  Dammit.

  “You’re not your usual happy go lucky self. You seem—somber, distant.”

  “I have a lot of shit on my plate. School, work, this.” I waved my index finger in a circle.

  “And, a new girlfriend, maybe?” Becky sauntered up to us, a tall glass of dark liquid in her hand.

  Shit.

  Panic choked me for a moment. Slowly, I lifted my head to meet her gaze. It took everything in me to keep my features neutral.

  She winked. “I mean, how else can you resist all of this?” She did a little shake and giggled, falling into the Prof’s side. Her beverage sloshed over the rim to splatter on the dingy floor.

  Prof caught her around the waist. “Becky, baby, we are discussing business, go play; I’ll find you later.”

  She pouted. “Fine.” Then in a singsong tone, “But you owe me.” She pushed off his shoulders and ambled away.

  “Is that it, you found someone?” Prof cocked his head. “If so, don’t hide her, bring the girl into our family. I’d like to meet the young lady that has caught your eye. Knowing you, I bet she is a pure blood beauty.”

  That will never happen—so many ways that would go epically wrong. Time to change the subject.

  “We are celebrating a bit early. Is there a reason?” Usually we partied after a parade. A way to let off steam, from all the emotions that run the gauntlet through us. The anger and combativeness created by people who opposed our voicing our opinions. Seemed the first amendment only counted when it worked in certain people’s favor.

  “We party tonight and will have another one tomorrow.” He shrugged. “Great things are happening. Soon enough, the world will know exactly who we are.

  “I haven’t seen Bruno tonight.” Something was off. Bruno was like our mentor’s shadow. His friend ate, shit and breathed the Prof’s words, and mimicked his actions.

  “He had some last minute ends to tie up.” Prof set his beer down between his legs. “Tomorrow is going to be fucking fantastic!” He nodded emphatically, jubilation clear on his features.

  “What exactly is Bruno working on?” The get together tonight was one thing, my crazy ass buddy missing it was another. It felt like a half arranged puzzle, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. He’d never missed a new members’ welcome party. “Will he be joining the jump in for the new members?”

  “If he can finish the job I gave him on time.”

  “Why do I feel like there is something you’re not telling me?” My mentor liked to keep plans in compartments. It wasn’t the first time the Prof was giving each member a specific job, but it was the first time I wasn’t part of the main team included in the plan in its entirety.

  Prof stilled. He cocked his head to the side. “Are you questioning my authority?”

  My cell buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it free and glanced at it.

  Harper.

  I returned my gaze to the Prof. “I have to take this.” I rose out of my seat and worked my way toward the exit. “Yeah.”

  “Where are you?”

  “A party of sorts.” Tomorrow was Saturday and parades celebrating Martin Luther King were slated to happen most of the day. It o
ccurred to him—Harper was very vocal. Her beliefs were as strong as his. “Are you going to any parades?” With the inevitable counter protest, things would get dangerous for her.

  “I was thinking about it.”

  “Don’t go.” I was walking a razor’s edge, caught between my life and a woman who was quickly becoming important to me. It had only been a few days since I saw her. I wanted—no need to see her again.

  “What’s in it for me?” There was a sexy purr to the way she spoke the words.

  My dick jerked, and I adjusted it. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “Why? What’s going on…”

  The screen door rammed into my shoulder blades. Another member stuck his head through the gap. “Hey Dachs; it’s time.”

  I nodded my acknowledgement. “I gotta go. Don’t go anywhere near the parades.” My belly roiled. I had a sinking feeling more was planned than the usual fist-fights and verbal confrontations that often happened when the followers of two different ideologies clashed. I ended the call and tucked the cell in my back pocket.

  I followed my brother into the house. Furniture was pushed around the perimeter of the room to form a circle. Two lamps cast intersecting circles of light while sending the rest of the room into shadow. Six boys stood in the middle of the room surrounded by bigger men. Some women stood to the side, while others stood with the older members of the brotherhood.

  Prof joined the guys standing nervously in the center. Some of them formed fists while others nervously shifted from one foot to the other. Our leader smiled. “Are you ready to join the brotherhood—to accept your place in white society?”

  A few nodded, most didn’t do anything. Snickers rose up from the group surrounding them. “Speak up!” someone yelled from a dark corner; others laughed.

  These were kids; did I look that scared at my induction? Music was turned up and a popular heavy metal song blasted through the room.

  Motherfucking Jews need to die! The blood of a nigger is black blood! If you’re not white…

  “Get the fuck out of the way!” Bruno’s voice burst through the room. He broke through the crowd with his fist raised and slammed it into the closest boy’s jaw, yelling, “Blood In!”

 

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