by T. L Smith
“You can’t mean that,” she says, shaking her head.
“I do, Rose. Don’t contact me again.”
“Why?” She drops the bag to the ground, stepping over it to reach me. I stand still, watching her every move. I lean in close, my breath on her ear. I smell her, she smells divine. I could never get sick of her… ever.
“Black surrounds me, Rose. If you’re with me, near me, black will surround you, too. Then it will drown you. Taking everything you are with it.”
“I’m not scared of the black, Black. I’ve been there. I’ve come back, and you can too.”
I shake my head at her. She doesn’t understand. “Don’t contact me again, Rose.”
“Kiss me. Kiss me one last time, Liam. Do it,” she pleads, her lips inches from mine. She angers me, calling me that name. After I have told her repeatedly not to. I grab her neck, squeeze it hard, and pull her to me. Our lips are touching but not moving. Her breath heavy on mine, her hands linger on my side.
It’s like an earthquake. Your body rocks and the earth shakes beneath your feet. The smoothness of her lips, it takes over, hypnotizing you. That’s what she does to me, makes me forget. Makes me want to do anything, be anything for her. She gasps in my mouth. Opening, giving me access which I take. Like the greedy fucker I am, our tongues touch, mingling, creating a dance of their own. She touches me, goes against my rules, but I don’t stop her. Her hands touch my waist, she digs in. Showing me, telling me that she’s touching me. Daring me to make her stop. She manages to untuck my shirt, her hands now on my bare stomach. I pull away, our mouths still open. Breathing heavily.
“Leave,” I say. Her lips are swollen. Pinker than they were mere seconds ago. She doesn’t listen and I reach forward to touch her, to break her trance. She jumps when I touch her ribs. Her hand flying there, to protect.
“What’s wrong?” I ask and she shakes her head. She leans forward and picks up the bag. I grab her dress and lift it. Her ribs are bruised black and blue.
“How did this happen?”
“Don’t worry.” She shakes her head, stepping back, making me effectively drop her dress.
“He did that to you?” I ask and she shakes her head.
“Don’t worry, Black, you don’t want me. You don’t want me in your life. So don’t worry.” I see her fighting herself, holding back her emotions. But her bright blue eyes betray her. And I know right now is the only time I could rid myself of her. To make it hurt, to make her move on.
“You’re right. Leave now.”
“Thank you, Black,” she says, sliding her glasses back on. She turns and leaves, but just as she reaches the door, she turns her head back. “Black is his soul,” she says, and then walks off.
Courts are tiring, but worth it. It’s been six months. Six long, grueling months of fighting, surviving and wanting to take the easy way out. But it’s been worth it. I didn’t win, didn’t win full rights. A mother who disappears for years with no contact doesn’t have that right, so I got weekends, and will eventually, hopefully, manage fifty-fifty. Roger in the courtroom looked at me as if the last breath I was gonna take would be his. Robbie was my savior, and I also think because I had him Roger was careful with what he did and said around me.
I don’t let Robbie around Isabelle. It’s not that he’s bad—no, he’s the complete opposite—he’s great to me. When I have Isabelle, I don’t want it to be anyone but us. I’m selfish, I only have limited time with her, and I have so much to make up for.
“Mommy, mommy, some man is at the door,” she screams while I’m in the kitchen. She skips in, stopping at the kitchen to grab a cookie and runs out back out to play on the swings. I walk to the door, and when I see a tall, dark figure standing there, my heart skips a beat. When he turns, though, my stomach calms.
“Hi, can I help you?” I ask as he looks me up and down.
“She yours?” he asks nodding his head toward the back of the house. The house I was able to put a deposit on and buy thanks to Black. The man I haven’t seen in what feels like a lifetime. No one has ever kissed me or made me feel the way he did. I’m taken aback by his question. I don’t understand why he would ask that? It seems rude.
“Can I help you, mister?” He smiles, noticing I don’t answer his question.
“No, you gave me everything I need. Good day, Rose.” My name slips from his lips with a sinister smile. I shiver and shut the door, making sure it’s locked.
That man has left me shaken, so when not even ten minutes later there’s another knock on the door, I’m afraid to answer it. Afraid of what will be on the other side. The knock comes again, and Isabelle runs inside, hearing it. Her smile is bright. She has so many of my features and for that I’m thankful. I don’t know if I could handle staring at a replica of Roger every day.
“Door, Mom,” she says, walking past me and shaking her head, thinking I was ignoring it or not hearing it. She’s five and a ray of sunshine. I stop her before she reaches it, and I pick her up. She laughs when I tickle her, her smile making my worries disperse.
I hold her tight, and when I open the door, I’m taken aback again. This time for an entirely different reason. My mother is standing there, an older image of myself, looking from me to Isabelle. Her hands go to her mouth and she gasps loudly.
“She looks so much like you,” she finally says. I don’t reply.
She looks so dejected when I don’t speak. Isabelle hides her face in my hair, covering herself. She notices Isabelle, how she reacts, and a tear leaves her eyes.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry. I am so sorry, Rose.” Her head shakes back and forth. “I didn’t know. Casey explained it to me. I should have believed you.”
“Stop, please,” I say, placing Isabelle on the ground. I bend toward her. “Go and play with your Barbies, sweetie. I have to talk to this lady, okay?” She nods her head and looks to my mother again before she runs off down the house to her room.
“You’re good with her,” she says, wiping the tears from her face.
“Really? You think so? Last time I spoke to you I was a useless human being who shouldn’t be around her.” I throw sarcasm at her, then the harsh reality of truth about how she spoke to me.
“I didn’t know. And everything he said… you just seem to… seem to be doing everything wrong. I only wanted what was best for her, Rose.”
“And not what’s best for me? Your daughter. ”
“You’re my number one priority, always have been. I’ve been searching for you for years.”
“Didn’t look very hard, did you?”
“Can we start over?”
“I don’t think now is the time for that. I need you to leave, please. Roger will be on his way here to pick her up and I don’t want to waste my time arguing with you.”
“Okay,” she finally says, just as Roger pulls up. His girlfriend sits proudly in the passenger seat of his car fixing her makeup. She doesn’t look up, she doesn’t care. He notices my mother and walks straight past her and into my house. I close the door on her face and follow him inside.
“Who did you screw for this house, Rose?” he asks, looking around. I have only recently moved in. The first thing I did was Isabelle’s room, the rest is still a work in progress. I ignore his jab and go to her room. She’s on the floor, playing like I told her to. She smiles and runs to me when she sees me before Roger pushes his way through and grabs her by the arm and tugs her to him. She shakes her head, no, and my heart cracks.
“It’s time to go, Isabelle,” he says, looking up at me and giving me the vilest look.
“Bye, baby. I’ll see you next weekend, okay?” She looks up at me, her eyes the same color as mine, and she nods her head. I follow them out, waving to her as she jumps in the car. Roger pauses at his door, then walks back to me.
“Stop fighting me for her. It will only end badly for you.”
“She’s mine too. I won’t listen to your threats either.” I shake my head and he smiles.
“I will do worse to you than drugs next time, Rose. I will ruin you,” he seethes. I step back, back in my doorway, and slam the door in his face. My worry of the stranger disappeared, as I need to be more concerned about what Roger has planned. He could hurt me worse, of that I’m sure.
I saw him once. He was watching me, his eyes followed my every move. He didn’t know I had spotted him, my glasses covering my eyes as I watched him watch me. I was walking out of the courthouse and I was a mess. I was amazed I had even caught sight of him. But seeing him helped take my mind off everything. Made that little black spot brighter. He left, not long after Robbie came out and placed his hand around my waist. I looked for him again, but he’d just disappeared.
Robbie comes to my house nearly every day after work. He brings me wine, or flowers, or dinner—every time it’s different. I haven’t slept with him, haven’t let anything go beyond a kiss. I know he wants more, I can feel it in the way he kisses me. How he brings my body so close to his. It’s not that I don’t find him attractive—he is—and I know I’m lucky to have him. Someone who’s so considerate of everything that I am, and that I do. It just feels wrong, though it shouldn’t, I’m not with him anymore. Haven’t been for a long time and I think it’s time I moved on. Let Robbie further into my life.
He’s due here any second now. I’m in a silk nighty. It hugs in all the right places and puts my cleavage on display. My hair is tied up, sexy and messy. Red lipstick matches my nighty. I hear the doorbell ring, so I slide on a silk robe over my shoulders. When I open the door, he smiles brightly and looks me over. He’s wearing jeans and a casual white shirt. When I look at him, really look at him, he’s extremely good looking, he works out and he respects me. For instance, right now, he’s holding a box of chocolates and flowers. I take them and kiss his cheek, and he leans in wanting more and touches my waist slightly. I step away and grab his hand, pulling him inside. He shuts the door with his hip and follows eagerly behind me.
“You staying the night?” I ask and he looks shocked. I’ve never let him stay the night. Our relationship, if you would call it that, is odd. More friendship for me, but not for him.
“Really?” he asks in disbelief. I nod my head and he smiles.
The time has come, I can no longer protect her any further no matter how hard I try. They all know. Know who she is. Her life is about to come to a stop. And so far, there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing I can save her from. I’ve been watching her for months but not gone near her. I’ve been keeping a safe distance. She’s still with that man, the police officer. I know him, he’s changed. He was one of the first investigators when I made my first kill. He eventually figured it out it was me, but never had any solid evidence to back that theory up.
I watch from the outside, as the club members pull out of their house, only three members ride away—Pres, Jake, and another rookie. They don’t notice me, but I follow them all the way into the city. Panic sets in when I see him pull into Rose’s new street. The boys stay back, but Pres continues on. He stops at her house, gets off his bike and walks to her door. She opens it smiling. My eyes focus in on her, watching her reaction. Her face scrunches, unpleased with whatever he has had to say. Then the door is closed. Pres places his helmet back on, nods to the boys, and they ride off.
I sit there contemplating what I should do. Should I protect her? I’m mixed, so mixed. But her daughter shouldn’t go through what I had to go through. No one should turn out like me, ever.
Fifteen years old
Liam
I wasn’t always a bad kid, I wasn’t always beaten. I was loved once. Though with that love came the love of a cruel man, one who would do things to my mother when no one was around. She loved with a fire, a fire so bright it could light up a room. The way she used to smile, dance, hug, it was an awesome feeling. She gave it her all, except she had horrible taste in men. My stepfather being one of them.
I remember the day clearly like it was yesterday. It was the turning point in my life, the day I started to do bad things, the day I became the bad thing. I left for school on time, my mother kissing me on the cheek, telling me how much she loved me.
I should have realized something was off, the way she said those words to me were different than how she usually talked to me. It was like she wanted them imprinted in me.
“I love you so much, Liam. Never… ever forget it. You are my sunshine.”
Those words sometimes haunt me still. The look in her green eyes, the way she hugged me for those extra seconds. I should have stayed home.
We didn’t have much to call ours. We lived in a one-bedroom apartment. The living room was my bedroom. I never complained, never needed to. She never gave me a reason to.
That afternoon when I arrived home from school the house was quiet. Usually there was noise, some kind of noise—cooking, singing, something. She was always busy.
I opened the door, but something was jammed behind it. I yelled for her, got no answer back. Then I kicked the door and it flew open. The lights in the house were off, the windows shut. A smell emanated through my senses so bad it covered every aspect of the place.
I turned the kitchen light on first. The place was a mess. The decorations that adorned the walls—pictures of me in every grade at school were smashed on the floor. I walked to her room, not even bothering looking elsewhere. It was empty, except there was blood on her bed. My heart picked up and I started shaking. Then I ran to the only place I hadn’t checked. Where I sleep—my bedroom.
I fell to my knees, the breath I had left me and I was struggling to take my next. She was there on my bed. My blanket wrapped around her throat, dried blood pooled on my bed. I vomited, and then I crawled to her. I touched her and she was cold, so I tried to warm her. I couldn’t. She was so stiff I couldn’t move her.
When I picked up my pillow, I noticed a card, it was in her hand. I found it odd, just a single card lying there all by itself. Then I read it. “Death calls Death.”
I’d seen that saying before. It was tattooed on a man, a very powerful man, a man I wanted to kill and make him pay for what he did.
I was now known as Black. Black as the night sky, Black as my mother’s dried blood. I would get revenge for her, and then I would ruin him… slowly.
My mind is made, her daughter will not have to go through what I went through. Somewhere along the way my mother became a lost memory and I’d forgotten why I do what I do. But now, now I remember, and I won’t let it happen again.
I saw him enter, but I really don’t care. He will be leaving because she and I need to talk. It’s time she knows the truth.
I knock on her door, hard. I hear a scuffle, then the door flies open, and she’s standing there in a baby doll nightgown. I want to tear it off of her. My eyes rake her up and down, taking in every inch of her. When I finally look into her eyes, they’re burning gray. Not her usual blue. She’s pissed, pissed at me. I can tell by the way her eyes bore into me, her stare so lethal that she looks like she wants to castrate me. I instantly want to save my cock, but then I also want to give it to her.
“Bad time,” she announces with rage, then tries to slam the door in my face. My foot stops it and the police officer walks out. His shirt off, her red lipstick smeared on his face. My blood begins to boil, my fist clenches hard. He looks at me with surprise, followed closely by anger. He grabs Rose by the hips and brings her behind him, planting himself in front of me. She looks surprised.
“You need to leave,” he says, seriously and full of animosity.
“Rose,” I say, looking behind him. Ignoring him. “Remember how I did something for you? Well, now you need to do something for me.” Her eyes close and dickhead looks back to her and then to me. “Tell him to leave,” I say, watching her.
“I don’t think so. You will be leaving.” He goes to shut the door in my face, but Rose stops him.
“I’m sorry, I really need to talk to him,” she says to the douchebag.
“I’m not leavin
g, and you don’t owe him anything.” His arms cross over his chest. His hands are clenched at his side, his face is tight, gritting his teeth.
I walk in past them and look around. I hear the anger in his voice when she asks him to leave again. Then I hear the door slam loudly like it’s about to break from the hinges.
She has flowers everywhere, two glasses of champagne on the table in front of the couch, and her cover slip is on the floor. I now know why he’s pissed, he was about to get lucky and I can’t help but laugh. Stupid fucker.
“I can’t believe you just did that!” Irritation is evident in her voice. She picks up the slip and wraps it around her body, covering herself from me.
“Why? He wouldn’t be able to fuck you like I do anyway.” Her mouth opens, and then she closes it. Not bothering to answer me. “Do you miss me, Rose? Do you miss the way I make you scream?” She stands there, not answering me. I take a step closer. Why? I have no idea. She floods my thoughts, making me forget why I’m here.
“You needed to talk, Black, not fuck me.” Her eyes bore into mine, but lust is evident, and now I’m hard.
“I changed my mind, wipe that shit from your lips and come back so I can fuck you.”
“Fuck off,” she spits at me, except her nipples are hard and peeking through her thin slip, which her wrap is exposing. I step forward and pinch one. She screams and jumps back.
“Just lose the clothing, it will make it that much easier for me to slide inside you.” I start undoing my pants, remove the belt, and then slide my shirt off. She’s standing there watching me, but not moving. I throw my shirt on the floor, and she starts squirming where she’s standing. I kick my shoes off, then my pants. I’m now totally naked and hard as fuck in front of her.
“I can’t do this,” she says while letting go of her slip, showing me cleavage. Her head shakes back and forth. But her eyes say yes. “If I can touch you. If I can touch you anywhere I please, I will let you fuck me,” she says, now looking at me.