“Yes,” Marissa said, stern and nodding. “Perfect, baby. Perfect.”
“Did you brother do anything to him?” Kiara asked.
“I never told him the truth. He might have killed the boy. There were no bruises visible so I just told him we got in a fight, not that it was physical or one-sided. Later we went back to get my stuff, and Rico didn’t say a god damn word.”
“He didn’t apologize?”
“I blocked all his texts. I didn’t want to give him a chance. I struggled to get where I was and the last thing I needed was a man kicking me down. I wasn’t gonna risk throwing my life away for him.”
The girls beamed in solidarity. They offered up their own stories of abuse. None were so bad as mine, but it made me feel better.
Of course, my story hadn’t had that clean an ending. I’d fallen into a depression, dropped out of school and barely slithered along for a while. But hey life wasn’t over yet, was it? I was here now, at least, and there were worse places to be than in Little 5 with decent company.
“So that’s why you going the opposite way with your new man,” Marissa said, as we sat over our empty plates, mouths sticky with syrup. “I get it.”
“I’m not going anywhere with any man,” I said, even then smiling at the memories. “It’s just a fun little thing.”
“Yeah, whatever you wanna call it baby. You got the nice boy who turned out to be a bad guy. Now you trying out a bad boy who knows how to treat you good.”
My mouth opened, but my brain had no words to occupy it. Was she right? She wasn’t wrong. I had been drawn to him at the first sight of leather and ink. What did it matter? He wasn’t my man, just a friend to fool around with. Hell, friend was really pushing it. Other than sex and a little flirting, all he’d done with me was watch me play piano – maybe not even on purpose.
Careful girl, his silky voice rolled through my head. You don’t know me.
“You’re right,” I said. “He’s the opposite of Rico, but what I’ve got with him is the opposite of what I had with Rico too. It’s no relationship. We’re not going anywhere.”
“I’ve tried things like that,” Kiara said. “They never last.”
“They aren’t supposed to.”
“OK, so when do you want to stop seeing him?” She peeked in at me, her light eyes like a laser point on my brain.
“When it’s not working anymore?”
She wagged her head, disappointed. “So it’s over when it’s over? Yeah, expect trouble.”
“Whatever, girl.”
Her words lingered as I lay in bed that night though. Of course he was trouble. I’d seen that the moment he walked in. So why would I be sad to let him go later?
Then again, the thought that came immediately after was the memory of him lying here in the moonlight with me. I remembered the practiced graze of his finger up my damp stomach and the soft warmth of him at my side. It hadn’t felt wrong with the two of us lying there, doing nothing. It didn’t seem like such a bad thing that the memory made me ache for it again.
I eyed my phone. No texts from anyone. I flicked to the most recent call, and hovered over the number, consigning it to memory.
‘New Text to this number?’ my phone suggested on screen.
Expect trouble.
I slammed the phone down and rolled over to sleep.
******
School passed slow as molasses the next day. Even after I hid my phone screen, I had phantom vibrations from it in my purse. There were a couple of girls I was kinda getting cozy with in classes, but at lunch I was too antsy to do more than listen to them talk.
“You waiting for test results or something?” Faith asked finally.
“What test?” I murmured, not quite looking up. “We’re in the same classes.”
She and Aubrey cracked up. “I was gonna say lab results, but now I’m thinking you have no reason to get checked out.”
“Haha,” I said – and then before I could catch myself. “For you information, this is about a guy.”
They clustered in, waiting for the gossip, but thankfully, the clock rang noon and we hustled to class.
My school day ended at four, and I’d just sulked out, debating between spaghetti or Campbell’s for dinner, when my purse started to rattle. I yanked out my phone.
It was just Darryl.
“Hey, Meg,” he said, when I picked up. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing special.” It was odd, him checking up on me again so soon. Maybe his surrogate dad-instincts were kicking in.
“You’re still downtown right? Wanna eat before you head back out?”
“Can’t say no to that.” It did solve at least one of my problems.
We met up at the Waffle House right by the MARTA station. Darryl had already found a seat. He still had on clothes from the gym - track pants and a well-worn white tee.
“Phe-ew, you stink,” I said, making a show as I sat down.
“It’s called giving back to the community.”
“The community is not in need of that odor.”
A waitress rushed by and dropped off a coffee and a glass of apple juice for me, my absolute favorite drink. I grinned at him as I sipped it. Truth be told, I shoved the dad label on him as much as he took it. He might be the only family I had, but no girl could ask for anyone better.
“I’m just teasing.” I said. “How are the kids today?”
“They’re good. One piece of advice though, don’t call em no kids if you come visit the gym. That’s the second to last thing that a teenage boy wants to be called.”
“What’s the first?”
“Virgin.”
I rolled my eyes. Darryl taught middle-schoolers only and no thirteen year old needed to get laid that bad. He tried to get to them before the drugs and gangs had their way. The school district paid him some money – effectively deputizing him - once they realized that the kids actually respected him. He was someone the boys wanted to be. His real work happened at night, as an amateur fighter in the Atlanta circles. It was how he’d kept us fed and sheltered after our parents died.
“Classes going better?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m wrapping up my history credits. I don’t know how much of it Emory will accept, but it’ll convince them I’m ready to come back.”
He nodded once. He’d only finished his GED and that was long after he turned 21. He didn’t understand credits or coursework – but he didn’t pretend to either. He just accepted I wouldn’t lie to him, because, well, I would never want to disappoint him. The day I told him I’d flunked out of Emory was almost worse than the one Rico hit me.
The food showed up hot, fresh and greasy. The chit chat stayed light, focused on work and classes and TV. He kept circling back to the bar and asking if anyone was bothering me there. His sixth sense must be tingling hard, but I just denied it. Vaughn was nothing for him to worry about - for now anyways. He was my trouble.
I tried to pay the bill, but Darryl’s massive palm edged mine away like a sheet of paper.
“Once you get that professor money, then you can cover me,” he said.
“That’s a long time away.”
“I’ll be around.”
“You better be.”
We hugged outside, and I watched him walk to the MARTA station. I tried to imagine his reaction to learning about Vaughn. In a way, they weren’t unalike. At least on the surface, both were rough and tattooed. That was something at least they could talk about. Then again, I was sure Vaughn wasn’t helping school kids during the day.
Wait, why was I even thinking about this situation? There was no reason for my brother to get acquainted with my fuckbudy, even as an idle thought. Kiara’s words echoed painfully in my ear. I’d never thought about this stuff while Vaughn was next to me. The lack of him was doing crazy things to my head. I hustled back to my car as if speed would drive other thoughts from my brain.
I had the night off from work, so I drove straight back home. Even w
ith the lights off, our little house was a relief to return to. A night to study – finally. I hustled up the porch and fumbled for my house keys.
“Well, hello there, honey.”
I shrieked and dropped my keys. A shadow rose from the porch bench. It moved towards me tall and lean and all I could do was stand there shaking. Finally it stepped into the moonlight. A sharp white face smiled wickedly at me.
“Vaughn?” I asked, then smacked him with my purse. “Vaughn, what the fuck?”
He took the blow to the shoulder and edged in closer. His voice sank over me like steam in a shower. “Just thought I’d surprise you.”
“Well, mission fucking accomplished.” I tried to hit him again, but he was too close and my hand just smacked against his waist. He trapped it there.
“Glad you didn’t make me wait,” he whispered, harsh in the crisp cool air.
“Why did you wait? How did you even know I’d be coming home?”
“I stopped by the bar and one of your little friends let me know you had time off.”
His eyes had not left mine. I could feel myself twist little knots of pleasure inside. Just that piercing look was enough to make me unhinged. My body remembered what would follow it.
“How about you invite me in?” His hand nestled in the small of my back.
“You didn’t text.” I could barely whisper. “I have stuff to do. I don’t know.”
“Yes you do.”
His fingers edged under my skirt. He leaned in just enough for his sharp nose to graze mine, enough for me to breathe in the hot exhalation from his lungs.
He was right. I’d have to study sometime else.
I got my keys, opened the door, and let him press me inside.
CHAPTER TEN
Vaughn
The day crested harsh and angry. I grumbled up on my shitty little cot. My body had gotten used to better beds – and company on them. Sure, I could buy a better cushion to rest on here, but it wouldn’t compare to the whole package.
It was just the third time this week I’d woken up here. Meagan had an insatiable appetite – she’d texted me the day right after I popped up on her porch asking for another helping. I was happy to serve, but damn, did she wear me out. That was another thing that made crashing with her that much better. I got a sound sleep after putting my body to such fine use.
I got a glass of OJ to wake me up proper. Calix and Asher were out on the porch blazing through a pack of smokes and looking out at the road. I sat down in their haze.
“Didn’t realize you were in,” Calix said without looking over.
“You didn’t see my bike parked right out front?” We shared the house - no way he didn’t know.
“Just rare to see you home for bed nowadays.”
“Didn’t realize I had a curfew.”
“Thurgood won’t tell us about the girl you’ve been pounding,” Asher chimed in. “Says he never saw her.”
Oh Thurge had seen her plenty, though not as much as me.
“He didn’t,” I said simply. “Besides it’s more than one ‘her’.”
“Na,” Calix rolled his head over. “This pattern’s more amenable to a steady situation.”
His face lay unreadable, but I’d seen that look enough times over the years. It said, Better know what you’re doing.
He wasn’t talking about Meagan. This conversation would have a whole different tone if that were the case. He just didn’t put much stock in relationships in general. The Storm’s Saints were more than enough family for him. White nationalism would have his heart in a way no girl ever could.
“Listen,” I said. “I’m here when I’m needed. Doesn’t matter where I roll in from.”
“It’s all good,” Asher said. “Just want to make sure you’re safe.”
I snorted. “Since when do we do safe? Speaking off, where’s the merchandise?”
Asher shrugged, but Calix flinched his eyebrows at the horizon. “Believe that’s it right now.”
A beat up white sedan flickered down the country road, rolling past groves of trees and grassy pasture. It turned into the short driveway and rumbled up. Thurge stepped out.
“Nice cage,” I said, sidling down the porch.
“My dear departed mother’s,” he said patting it like a horse. “Thought it’d do her spirit good to see me take it for a spin.”
“She’d appreciate the fact the trunk was packed with guns?”
Thurge looked offended. “And why not? She knew her way around a sidearm, and she’d appreciate what we’re doing with these ones. She might not have supported the cause directly, but she was no race traitor.”
I flinched at the words. Race traitor. No, that’s not what I was. Sex was sex. If it came time to take up arms to defend a white nation, I would gladly do it.
Though my nighttime activities were hardly helping to get us towards that day.
Calix and Asher inspected the gear, while I saddled up on Viper. This was getting to be a monthly thing now. The drug cartels were always looking for ways to get military equipment and our connections put us in a sweet spot. They paid us top dollar for just a trunkful of machine guns and gear and we put the money into rallies and recruitment. We were an odd match, but hell, no use making enemies too early. Even the national socialists in WW2 allied with Asians and South Indians and some Arabs to advance their cause. As Asher would say, the guns were being put to use against other Mexicans anyway. Some counted that as another small victory, but it seemed beside the point to me.
We drove in convoy to the quarry where we made deals - Asher on his hog up front, and me and Calix flanking the back. Right before we descended into the pit, Asher got off and set up with a sniper rifle. He was an ex-Marine and it always made things smoother with him there.
The Cartel men were waiting. They only had a couple of guys, though they probably had their own Asher somewhere unseen. The lead guy had to be 40, with his silver mustache and thinning hair, but he stood smoking a cigar, wearing a fucking pink polo and golf pants. Calix walked right up to the cream puff and me and Thurge hung back, hands crossed, looking rough. The guy didn’t even bother checking anymore. He just had his dark skinned lackey toss us a sack of cash, then loaded the gear and rolled out.
I flicked through the stacks of bills. This was the bulk of my paycheck right here. My cut usually covered all the crap I’d need for the month, but as I’d bought my last pack of rubbers knowing full well who they would be entering, it felt like crossing another line to spend white nationalist money on that. I still had some left over money from a couple side gigs I’d worked a month ago. It hadn’t been the sort of stuff to get the Storm’s Soldiers involved in and nominally I’d burned through it in a week, but it wasn’t that long ago. It would just be a matter of self-deception to readjust the sums in my mind – seems I was getting good at that these days.
We took our little posse back to the bar and my brother and I secured the money in the vault safe. Only Calix and Homer – the Soldier’s President – were supposed to know the safe combination, but my brother made no motion to hide it in front of me. It made me uneasy for reasons I couldn’t quite comprehend. What, was I gonna take it all and donate it to the NAACP? Of course not, but the path went that way.
I pounded my fist against the safe door to empty my thoughts. Calix jolted up. “What the fuck?” he said.
I rubbed the heel of my hand, lost in blissful pain. “Just testing the strength.”
“Yours or the safe’s? One of them’s never had reason to be questioned.”
I rose out of the pain and saw Calix looking sharp at me, but with curiosity, not anger. “It’s nothing.”
He shut door and faced me square on. “What’s the matter with you? I thought it was Mom, but I know it ain’t that now. Is it this girl?”
“It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing.” He sighed and clapped me on the back. “If this is a fight you gotta do, then so be it, I won’t intrude. But handle it. We’re
soldiers, alright. We can’t fight clearly if our mind’s preoccupied.”
I knew what fight he was talking about. “It’s just a rally, there won’t be any violence.”
“Past results do not indicate the course of the future. There may be fights and there may not, but keep that in mind.”
He wore a distant look. I knew he dreamed of being there at the emancipation of the white race - that at one of these events, the common white folk would surge up and realize the state of affairs and rally around our cause. History had taught me different though. Movements built slowly and stayed underground for years, for decades – especially with concepts as radical as ours.
Hitler had been scheming for twenty years before he got his chance to rise. So too – I remembered now – had the abolitionists in the old South, before they held enough sway to get Lincoln to attack the South.
History might not repeat, but certain trends made themselves evident.
I just gave Calix a tight lipped smile and slipped out.
Meagan sent me another text late afternoon. One day off, one day on – like clockwork. I showed up under the moonlight on her porch.
She ripped open the door at the first knock. Despite the regularity of our meetings now, my mouth had trouble staying shut as I saw her succulent body held tight under a radiant white dress. It was like she had blanked out all her tasty parts and I would get to recreate them when I peeled the fabric off her in a few short minutes.
“Do you need an invitation to come in, Mr. Vampire?” she said, swaying all coyly.
I tossed open the screen door and slung into her lips-first. She staggered back against my kiss, almost tipping over, but I threw an arm around and held her face to mine. She tasted like strawberries, but I lingered and smelled her real aroma fresh and soft behind it.
I finally pulled off and looked around. She sank back against a wall, then saw what I was searching for.
“She’s with her mom for the weekend.”
I shrugged off my relief. That roommate of her and I didn’t see eye to eye at all. Not surprising, maybe, but it was odd thinking how completely normal this last week would have gone if I had seen her at the bar instead of the ripe little peach heaving before me.
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