Interracial Mega Bundle (Interracial Urban Erotica)

by Asia Marquis

  I wonder if it scares him to be around so many people without Roman? I should go to him. It's no good to make him suffer. She frowned, moving quickly towards him, but out of the corner of her eye she saw a face. A man's face, one that seemed vaguely familiar. When she looked for it in the crowd, there was no one there. No one she recognized, anyway.

  “Hey,” he said. His face was paler than normal. “You look spooked. You alright?”

  “Me?” She laughed. “I'm fine. Are you okay?”

  He was about to protest, but then he stopped. “Not really. Being without Roman, in a crowd like this? It makes me uneasy.”

  “Hey,” she said, her voice soft and her hand reaching to touch his cheek. “If you need me to text you when I'm out of class, so you don't have to wait, I can do that.”

  “Nah. Saw my psychiatrist today. She told me I should start putting myself into uncomfortable situations like this. This is for the best.”

  “If you say so.” She kissed him. When she leaned in, she again thought she saw a familiar face, but it was again gone when she looked.

  “What is it?” He asked. Looking around the campus, she shook her head.

  “Nothing. Just… a weird feeling. Come on, take me home so I can cook for you. I'm starving.” She rubbed her stomach, which growled just in time. They both laughed.

  At home, Troy seemed agitated but he wouldn't tell her why. She hoped it wasn't because of the crowd, but if he needed space, she would give it to him. She flipped the burgers, which were coming along nicely, but then she felt faint. A wave of nausea passed over her as she bent forward, taking deep breaths.

  Troy looked into the kitchen from the couch. “What's wrong?”

  It passed, and Ashanti stood again, confused but otherwise fine. “Nothing, I just felt sick for a second. I think I'm just really hungry.”

  “How much longer?” He asked, rubbing his stomach.

  “They're basically done. Want to set the table for me?”

  He gave her a lopsided grin. “Of course, dear,” he said in a teasing tone. She stuck out her tongue at him, then finished the burgers. The french fries in the oven were a nice golden brown color. They looked better than any oven fries she had ever made, thanks to his advice to brush them with olive oil and salt.

  Seated at the table, Troy and Ashanti talked about the TV show they were watching. He seemed to really enjoy it, which was good because she liked it too. When she took a bite of her burger, it stuck in her mouth. “Ugh,” she said. “I have this weird metallic taste in the back of my mouth. Will you see if I'm bleeding?”

  “Sure. Swallow and open up.” He stood, taking out his phone and turning on the flashlight mode.

  She did, and he looked into her mouth. “Hmm. Nope, I don't see any blood. You might just need to brush your teeth or something.” Running his fingers over her lips, he made her shiver. Watching her react to him got him to smile.

  “Maybe,” she said. She took another bite, which was also ruined by the taste of metal, but she forced herself through half of the burger before she received a text on her phone.

  I still have those things. The ones you sent me. Does your boyfriend know?

  Her blood ran cold. Setting down her burger, she read the text, and the phone number it came from. It was a local number, one that seemed familiar to her but she didn't know why.

  When she thought about the message, though, it was pretty clear who it was from. She just didn't understand why he was bringing up the past. Why did he want to hurt her all over again?

  She thought that part of her life was over. I guess I was wrong, she thought with a sinking feeling in her stomach.

  “I'm really not feeling good,” she said, standing up. “I think I'm going to go… lay down. Or do some homework.”

  “Do you want me to come up with you?” Troy asked.

  “No. I'll be fine. I just feel overwhelmed. With classes and everything. You should go out and do something.”

  “Are you sure? I thought we could have a night in.”

  She nodded. “I'm sure. Go to the gym or hang out with those gym friends of yours.” She tried to smile, but she wasn't confident that it came across as very reassuring. “I should really do my homework, anyway. I can't fall behind on it. When you come home, you can cuddle with me until we fall asleep. Okay?”

  He didn't look so sure. “If you say so. Text or call me if you start to feel worse. I'll take you to the ER if I have to, okay?”

  She nodded, throwing away her burger and setting her plate in the sink. “I know. I'll tell you if I feel worse.”

  She climbed the stairs and went into her bedroom, leaning over and clutching her chest. What am I going to do? This was never supposed to come back… I thought he was gone!

  Taking out her phone, she texted the number back.

  What do you want?

  Her phone chimed with another text.

  I want you to suffer.

  Ashanti felt, then, that she was about to be pulled into something bad. She didn't want her past to be trudged up, not when she was finally getting to know and starting to like Troy.

  I'll do anything. Just tell me how I can get you to not release those photos.

  She waited for the answer. It took longer than expected to arrive.

  I'll consider it. Keep your phone on. And if you take this to anyone else, the world finds out exactly what you really are.

  Troy

  Gentle night. Deep shadows. A clock that read 4:32 AM. The sound of a doorbell still ringing in his ears. Ashanti didn't stir.

  She really was a very deep sleeper.

  The doorbell did not ring again, but he knew that if he didn't check it he would not be able to sleep. Whoever was ringing doorbells at 4 AM was up to no good. Maybe it was someone drunk and lost, or maybe it was someone seeing if a house could easily be broken into.

  Either way, Troy looked around Ashanti's room for a weapon. She had an aluminum baseball bat leaning against her dresser, which she had told him a few days ago belonged to her mother.

  He picked up the bat and carried it with him, holding it tight in one hand. Roman followed close behind him as he crept down the stairs, hoping that whoever it was had not yet decided to try and enter the house.

  All was silent but the creek of the hardwood floor as he crossed it.

  Peering through the lace that covered the front door, he saw no one. The front gate was still shut tight, blocking someone from easily getting in through the front. He was about to go check the back when he saw it.

  A small box, on the porch in front of the gate. It was wrapped with something organic, straw maybe. There was a tag upon the box, as well, but in the dark Troy could not read it.

  He opened the door, and then the gate, quickly grabbing the package in case it was a trap to lure him out. The gate locked behind him, and then he locked the front door again as he carried the package, wrapped like a gift, inside the house.

  If he was being honest, he was scare shitless of whatever was inside the box. The tag read For the man of the house. He couldn't think of anyone that was near Arizona that might want to hurt him. No doubt Jack was already back home, and while he punched hard and the guy was scum, he wasn't the sort of person to play mind games. He wasn't smart enough to mess with psychological fear.

  I must be the man of the house, he reasoned. Unless they mean Ashanti's dead father, which I doubt. He inspected the box. Perfectly square, wrapped in plain brown paper.

  God, I hope it's not a still beating heart.

  Undoing the organic ribbon, and then unfolding the paper, he found something like a square shoebox. The top opened easily, thankfully not revealing a heart or any other body part.

  It only revealed photos. A lot of photos. Each one of Ashanti, but they were cut short, just below her shoulders. She looked young, too young, and her shoulders were bare.

  Whatever the box was, whatever it was supposed to mean, it couldn't be anything good. I can't let Ashanti see this. She'll freak out
. I don't know if these photos were stolen from her or taken without her knowledge.

  Many of the photos looked like selfies. Nude selfies somehow seemed extremely unlike Ashanti, but considering her age, there was no saying how much she could have changed since they were taken. Each photo he looked at convinced him further that whatever was cut off was not meant to be shared with anyone other than the person that received them.

  “What did that girl get herself into?” She didn't look any older than her yearbook photo. Her hair had been bleached and then dyed a lavender color, but it was undeniably her. It was undeniably her, nude. Who had she sent the photos to?

  Carrying the box into the hallway, he hid it behind the pile of blankets until he could think of something to do with them. While he hoped that whoever left the photos on the porch was finished with whatever game they thought they were playing, Troy doubted it was over.

  Eventually, he would have to tell Ashanti about it. Just, not yet. Not when she was already so stressed, and definitely not at that hour. He would find the right time.

  He went back upstairs, his stomach twisted into knots. The feeling only got worse when he saw that Ashanti wasn't in bed. Then he heard the retching in the bathroom.

  Looking in, he saw that she was puking. Roman whined behind him. “Oh, Ashanti. You must have eaten something bad.”

  “I barely,” she retched again. “Had anything at all.”

  “Maybe it was the burger. Or the flu.” He took her hair and held it away from her face, stopping it from getting caught in her sick. He stayed with her as she was dry heaving, having nothing left to throw up, then handed her a hand towel from next to the shower. “Feeling any better?”

  She shook her head. “I just feel so sick. I don't know how I'm going to work tomorrow.”

  “Skip it?” He suggested.

  “I can't! The head librarian, she'll kill me. I'm already on thin ice.”

  “Ashanti,” he said, taking her by the shoulders. She looked so frail, so thin. There were dark, painful circle under her eyes. “If you're sick, you have to take care of your health. You don't need to work yourself to the bone anymore. Please call in. Do you really need that job at the library?”

  She nodded, but then shook her head. “Not really. I don't need a practicum this early into my schooling. I just thought the experience would make things easier.”

  “You should call in. If she fires you, or gives you crap, then don't sweat it. We can find you a library nearby that won't make your life hell. Okay?”

  She nodded. “I should call now, and leave a message. In case I wake up late.”

  “Good idea.” He held her hand and led her to the bedroom, where he watched her dial the number and cringe through the message. It was a problem they would deal with tomorrow. Once she hung up, he took her in his arms and gently laid her on the bed, pushing the hair from her face.

  “I'm here. Wake me up if you need me, or feel sick again. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she said. He kissed her cheek (though he wanted to kiss her lips) and wrapped his arms around her, holding the woman he was coming to truly love close to his body. He was confused about the photos, confused about her illness, but he was not confused about her.

  Chapter 12

  Ashanti

  There were few things more excruciating for Ashanti than waiting for phone calls. When those calls were undoubtedly going to go poorly, well, that only made matters worse. She had just woken up, feeling fine but still encouraged by Troy to stay home, and was sitting on the couch while he made her soup.

  Her phone was in front of her, face up, on the coffee table. The ringer was on the highest setting. Her nerves were fried. When the phone finally lit up, she jumped up and scrambled for the phone, dropping it on the floor in the process.

  She inspected it quickly (no cracks) before she swiped her finger across the screen to answer it. “Hello?” She said, then cleared her throat. “Um, sorry, this is Ashanti speaking.”

  “Ashanti. Good to hear from you. Look, my dear, I know that things just come up sometimes, but this is so soon after the last time you changed plans on me.”

  Troy poked his head out, listening in on the call with eyebrows raised. “I know. I woke up with really bad nausea, and –”

  “There really is no excuse. I told you I need two weeks notice.”

  Was the head librarian really going to be this petty and ridiculous? “You have to be kidding.”

  “I'm afraid not, dear. Your mother would be so disappointed with how flaky and untrustworthy you turned out to be.”

  That was it. She was ready to scream, but she steadied her voice. “You're going to make a mockery of my mother's memory to me, over the phone, because I can't give you two weeks notice about my being sick?” An angry laugh forced its way out of her. Ashanti didn't like how it sounded, but it got the job done.

  “Well,” the librarian started, but Ashanti cut her off.

  “No, you listen to me.” Her voice was low, dangerous. “I quit. But not only do I quit, I quit with a promise to you: I will tell everyone I know, and more importantly everyone that you rely on for donations, about how you've treated me. I'll put it up online. I'll tell them in person. And I will make sure that they all know you treat your students so poorly, to feed your old lady ego. How dare you talk about my mother, as if she would be ashamed of me. The only thing she would be ashamed of is that I let you treat me so poorly for so long.”

  “Ashanti, hang on.” The other woman sounded thoroughly afraid, and Ashanti was glad. She wanted her to take her seriously.

  “No. I won't. Goodbye.” She hung up, then immediately blocked the number to the local library. Looking to Troy, she started to cry. “Now what am I going to do?”

  He went to her side and held her. “We'll figure it out. You'll still become a librarian. When this is all over, we'll find someplace better for you to work. For now, however, you have to take care of yourself. Does this open up any free time? We could go for a date every week.” He grinned at her. “Like a real date.”

  “I've never been on a date,” she answered. He gave her a puzzled look, but it was gone too fast for her to ask about it. He stood up and helped her to her feet, too.

  “Are you actually going to do all that stuff? Seems a bit mean spirited.” He grinned.

  “Probably not,” Ashanti admitted. “But I'll probably tell my grandma, and she'll do all the gossiping for me. This one time, I had a teacher that wasn't stopping others from bullying me in class. Well, it turned out that the teacher's wife was in Grandma's sewing group, one of the many hobbies she's had for a long time. I guess he got chewed out pretty bad, because suddenly he started taking the bullies seriously. After that, the class became one of my most peaceful classes.”

  “Wow,” Troy commented. “I still don't quite understand why you were being teased so much.”

  Ashanti paused, quietly, then said, “It wasn't completely unwarranted.”

  Troy had a look that communicated he didn't understand, but he didn't force her to discuss it. “Come on, come eat your soup. Then we're binge-watching that horror show the rest of the night, no complaints!”

  She laughed and pulled him in for a hug. Back in the living room, her phone chimed again. “Oh, let me see what that is. It might be Grandma.”

  “Alright, but if she wants you to call her, you make her wait.”

  “Gotcha,” she said with a nod, then picked up her phone.

  Meet me at 2 am at the Chamber of Commerce parking lot. Bring $100k. If you don't, your grandma gets to find out all about what her whore granddaughter did.

  She swallowed, her heart sinking into her stomach. Her knees felt like they might give out, and then they did. Sitting on the floor, she wondered: how could she get out that much money in such short notice? She had the money, but no way to get to the Chamber of Commerce. Not without Troy finding out what was going on. Not without Troy finding out that she…

  “Ashanti? What's wrong?”

/>   She looked up at him, at the face of a man that truly did want the best for her. She loved him, she realized. Really loved him, though it was a young love, still immature and scare. Having him find out about her past was impossible, but it was more impossible for her grandmother to find out. She had to choose: risk losing Troy over a past indiscretion, or risk losing everything.

  The choice was obvious, but it was going to be painful.

  “I'm in trouble, and I need your help.”

  Troy

  “His name was Elliot, and he was the biggest mistake I ever made.” That was how she started the story. “Tall, handsome, and the class clown is how I would describe him. God, I loved him, as much as a teen can love someone that would never talk to her. I sent him a note. I don't know why, I never told any of the other boys I had crushes on, but I couldn't take the pain of him not knowing anymore.”

  Troy listened with pained interest as she told him about her love for some kid in high school. He wished that she was talking about him, about loving him.

  “It was a stupid thing to do, because he latched onto me, like a leech. Eventually, I realized that he was manipulating me, but not before I spent money and time on him. He was never satisfied with anything I gave him.”

  “Did he hurt you?” Troy asked.

  She shook her head slowly. “Only psychologically. Never physically. He would tell me he wasn't sure if I was worth him, and call me a whore to my face, around his friends and when we were alone. He wouldn't touch me, because I was too revolting for him, but he enjoyed the gifts I bought him. Tickets to movies, sports memorabilia, even a really expensive watch.” She winced. “But he wouldn't date me. He had no interest in me, just in toying with me.”

  “What happened?”

  “I was desperate and stupid and I thought I loved him. He came to me and offered one last chance to gain his approval. Nude shots. A lot of them. He took some of them himself, telling me to bend over and show him… everything. Most I took myself, in the school bathroom or at home. I was in a really unhealthy place, and I thought that what I was doing could win his love.”