by Xyla Turner
It was hard to breathe and I was coming. There was no air, just her moans as her head rolled back and forth on the wall with her eyes closed.
“Look at me,” I nipped her lip.
She groaned, and then lowered her head so her deep brown eyes penetrated through me. Her fingers grabbed my ears as I started to unravel. Not just physically, but emotionally. It was like my soul was bared to her. My fingers pressed into her ass further and I knew she would bruise, yet all she did was pull my face forward so I unraveled in her passionate kiss.
My release was growled in her mouth and her sighs were caught in mine. I continued to kiss her lips, her chin, and her neck. She tasted like honey. So sweet, so natural, and definitely a rare gem.
Once I regained my strength, I took her back to her bedroom and continued to make sweet love to her throughout the night. After she got off on my hands, face and cock, she passed out with her body draped over me. Sleep did not find me, as I thought of all the things that were about to come our way. I didn’t want to let her go, but if it was best for her, then I would.
After D’asia made me breakfast Sunday morning, I left around eleven before Zee came back home. I assured her that we’d get together even if it was for lunch this week, but I was working doubles. She wanted to know why, but I did not want to jinx it, so I told her it was a surprise.
Later in the day, my uncle called to ask if I was coming to dinner. As I tried to tell him no, he explained that he expected me there since he had some news.
Great.
When I arrived, my uncles and mom were already at the table.
“Ryan,” my mom called.
“Mother,” I called back.
My two uncles gave me the side eye but I took my seat and started putting mash potatoes on my plate.
“What’s the news, Uncle?” I asked, to speed this up.
“Just waiting for Jesse to come back, so I don’t have to repeat myself,” he replied.
“Okay.” I put a piece of baked chicken breast on my plate.
“So, what’s this about you fucking around with a girl from The Trap?” My uncle leaned back with narrowed eyes on me.
I turned my eyes to my mother, who busied herself with cutting the chicken on her plate.
Fuck.
“You know, I tried to go there before, but that shit don’t mesh. Just too different. Plus, her brother’s a delinquent. Future jail bait. You don’t need that shit, believe me.” he continued.
The front door creaked and in walked Jesse with someone on his heels.
“Cousin,” Jesse called.
“Hey Jess, what’s going on?”
“Nothing, just coming back from getting Paula.”
I turned around further to see Officer Paula Sanchez smiling at me as she entered the room. The woman had no shame, as she even picked the seat right next to me.
“Hey, Ryan,” she breathed.
Her perfume snuck up my nostrils, causing me to sneeze repeatedly. The woman had the nerve to pat my back several times, and then rub it.
“I’m fine.” I jerked away. “It’s your perfume.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She backed away.
“Ryan,” my mother scolded me.
“It is a little strong,” Jesse chimed in. “I was sneezing in the car.”
I choked some more. My man Jesse.
My uncles tried to hide their laughter and smirks, while my mom informed Paula about what was for dinner.
“I invited Paula because her family is out of town this Sunday and like us, they always have family meals. She’s from a very close-knit family. They have blue blood as well. Cops in every generation. I figured she would fit right in as she’s more compatible with us.”
Really?
Jesse looked around the table with his nose scrunched up as if he was confused. My Uncle Cliff looked uncomfortable, while Uncle Peter was nodding his head.
“Uncle, you had something to say.” I ignored the last comment.
“Yeah, I have a biopsy in a few weeks. They saw something, so I want to get it checked out fully. Have to go to Philly, but wanted the family to know.”
Murmurs were uttered around the room as the mortality of my family came into play. Decades on the force, but a spot could take one of us out. It was a weird and crazy world. Everyone started asking questions at the same time, then something touched my leg. I looked across the table at Jesse who was actively engaged in the conversation with his father, Uncle Peter. So I swiveled my head around to see Paula smiling at me.
Her leg was rubbing against mine, therefore I moved it over away from her. Then she put her entire leg over mine, trapping my leg as she began to rub near my crotch.
Oh fuck.
I jumped up out of the seat, nearly knocking her over.
“Ryan?” My mother asked. “What has gotten into you?”
I looked around the room and saw everyone giving me puzzling looks. This was by no means how this dinner was supposed to go.
“Uncle, I’m sorry to hear that, but praying that everything works out.” I nodded at him. “I’m going to head out because I have a lot to prepare for next week.”
I grabbed a biscuit and my keys to leave.
“Wait, Ryan.” Paula called behind me.
I kept walking, as I did not want to speak with her.
When I cleared the front door, I heard the click clack of her heels.
“I’m sorry.” She said breathlessly as she closed the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“How the fuck didn’t you want to make me feel uncomfortable with your hand in my crotch?” I squinted at her.
“Just wanted to show my interest.”
“I’m unavailable.” I ran down the steps to get to my truck.
“With D’asia Carey?”
That stopped me dead in my tracks.
“What the fuck do you know about D’asia?” I sneered.
“Just that her mom’s a crackhead with a rap sheet longer than you. Brother’s a future crackhead and she’s probably right around the corner.” She scoffed. “I mean, come on. She lives in the fucking Trap!”
Before I realized it, I was stalking back up the stairs towards her.
“Where do you get off making judgments about her? You don’t know her from shit. What, you pulled her file and now you know her?” I barked at her.
“I know she’s from a different world.” She leaned into me. “What do you both have in common, except you guys might die from the same gun.”
“Fuck you.” I snapped.
“Oh, baby. I’d love that, but your mind is wrapped up in trap pussy.”
“The crazy part about being a McFadden minion is that your dumb ass believes the shit you spewing. So I’ll tell you as I told her.” I pointed to the house. “D’asia is more perfect than you could ever be. You’d never be in the same bracket as her. She makes her own way, while you ride on the coattails of McFadden’s.”
“No, Ryan. She doesn’t make her own way. Because my salary pays for the roof over her head, the clothes on her back and the food in her mouth. So, we,” she twirled her finger in the air, “the taxpayers, make her way.”
Paula put her hand on her hip to finish her rant.
I leaned down and whispered, “I pray to God you never have to be in a situation where you’ll have to lean on the system for some help. I won’t wish that on you, but what I will say. The one thing that she gets and you’ll never touch, is me.”
Her upper lip turned up, like she smelled something foul.
“She takes me and only me. She’s tight and only lets me slide in that. You on the other hand, got too many hands in that jar and nothing is appealing about your loose ass.”
Paula gasped as I backed up and finished, “So, go on back and take your desperate, thirsty ass inside to kiss more McFadden ass. The only one that can quench my thirst is Trap pussy.”
Her mouth was wide open and her eyes double their size. I made my way to t
he truck and drove home.
As I was retiring for the night, an emergency notice crossed the bottom of the screen, stating that there was a shooting and a man was killed by a police officer behind The Trap.
Oh shit.
D’asia
News of the murder was all around the neighborhood. L.A. had been killed by a cop right in the back alley with no cameras. It was reported that he pulled a gun on the cop however there was no one else back there to see it. This was the third shooting of someone by a cop in the past two years. It was outrageous that we were dying like this. The violence against each other was bad enough, but the very people that were supposed to protect us were killing us. Not just at The Trap or Brooklyn but around the country.
Enough was enough.
There was a vigil at two that I planned to attend. So after Zee went to school, I washed some clothes, then prepared to leave. My phone buzzed with a text message.
Ryan: hey sweetness, I have an hour off, want to grab lunch
Me: Sorry, can’t. Going to the vigil
Ryan: For the guy that was killed. You know him.
Me: Heard of him, yeah
Ryan: Will the vigil be for the entire two hours?
Me: I don’t know, but we’re having a community meeting afterward, so I’ll be there as well
Ryan: I see
Ryan: Maybe I’ll stop by there then
Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea
Ryan: Because I’m a cop
Me: Yeah, amongst other things
Ryan: What does that mean?
Me: It means, a cop killed another innocent black person and we’re left picking up the pieces
Ryan: Innocent?
The telephone started buzzing consistently, meaning someone was calling.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Innocent? Really, D’asia.” Ryan chimed in.
“Look, I don’t want to have this discussion with you, okay?”
“D’asia,” he sighed. “We’re going to need to discuss things like this.”
“Not today,” I sighed as well. “Just not today.”
“Fine, not today.” Ryan conceded. “When can I see you?”
“I’m not sure you should risk coming here and I have Zee during the week, so I just don’t know.” I was feeling very apprehensive.
“It sounds like you are saying something else.” He uttered.
“I have to go Ryan, will talk to you later.”
“We will talk later,” he said that like it was a promise.
After hanging up, I left for the vigil.
There were so many people out there for the ceremony. L.A. was definitely a part of a gang or something because they were all out there with the same colors. Besides that, there were so many other people of all ages that were out paying tribute to yet another lost one. Jay-Z’s song, Lost One, played in the background, which brought tears to my eyes.
The lyrics that stood out to me included: You lost one, let go to get one…Place any burden on me, but please not that, Lord…Can’t run from the pain, so go towards it.
Many of us stood out there as different people talked about him, his hopes and dreams. He seemed to be pretty smart and that was shared even amongst his gang. He was only twenty-three years old which was the same age as me.
My heart tightened at the thought. I started crying more. Not because of him, but because it brought my mortality before me. The fact that I could end up dead just like him. Never to grace this earth again. Not see Zee and be a part of his life. Not reaching my purpose or fulfilling everything I wanted to do. Not experience true love. Starting my career, watching Zee graduate from high school, getting that house, getting married, having babies, raising them, retiring and living my life. I wanted to live free. Not here.
A hand touched my back. When I turned around, Mrs. Henry was behind me with tears in her eyes. We embraced each other and cried together.
By the time we made it to the community meeting, people were upset and on the verge of using violence to rectify the death. Some activist tried to calm the gang down and present the facts. No cops were present, but there were a few reporters.
The story that was explained was that L.A. was asked to turn around with his hands up. He didn’t and when he finally did turn, his hands were not up but going for his waist, so the cop shot him twice. It was reported that there was a gun in the front of his jeans in the tucked in his underwear. Some people felt like a gun was planted on him. His gang did not seem too outraged about this tidbit, more than the fact that he was dead and they seemed to want retribution.
One of the local councilmen came to the bench and said, “Yes, our black men are dying every day, but will we sit back and continue to allow this massacre? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying we should retaliate.” Groans came from L.A.’s gang. “What I am saying is that we need to be vigilant. We have this hear no evil, see no evil mantra and it needs to stop. If a cop pulls someone over, pull out your phone and record it.”
I found myself nodding my head. Especially after watching that video of Sandra Bland. As a black woman, that scared the hell out of me. Just because I was having a bad day and being within my rights, meant that I needed to be dragged out of my car and later, I’m found dead.
Something had to be done.
“We need to stop this mess about minding our business. When we ignore the massacre that is executing the black men and women, we are allowing this to happen. Call people to the carpet. Pull out your phones. Record, share, and spread the word. This is one current way we can protect each other. This is also another way that will bring us together, so we are not killing each other. Because if we are really telling the truth, we should not be the executioner of our own.”
Everyone started applauding, even the gang.
He was right.
I stopped by the grocery store to pick up some food for the next day, when I saw an ad that said they had a program that allowed people living in public housing to own homes. It was the rent-to-own program and it was a way out of The Trap.
Snatching the torn paper at the bottom, I felt determined. Life was too short to keep kicking dust around. My classes were good, but I was twenty-three years old and I had shit to do.
While I was planning my next moves, a woman bumped me in the convenient store. I turned with a grimace on my face because this was no accidental bump. Looking up, I saw those ugly shoes and navy pants and started to panic. Ryan was here?
But it wasn’t him. It was the cop from the precinct that had her face screwed up the other day.
“Excuse me,” I snapped at her.
Cop or not, that was rude as hell.
“Oh, I didn’t see you there.” She pasted on a fake smile.
I turned to make my way to the dairy aisle, when she said, “You know Ryan is just using you right?”
That certainly halted me in my tracks. There was no need to turn around because I knew where this was going. She was here to warn me off. Tell me to stay away from her man. Let me know that I wasn’t in his league.
For some reason, I started laughing out loud.
“Do you not care what he thinks of you?”
“I know exactly what he thinks of me and I know what you are going to say he thinks of me.” I continued to laugh and walked towards the yogurt.
Her voice was close, so she must have followed me.
“You’re just the flavor of the hood. He won the bet, so he gets to hit it.”
“Right,” I picked up the Kiwi yogurt. “He’ll dump me when he gets tired of me, then he’ll go back to you. The desperate bitch that’s following me around my local neighborhood store to warn me off her man or man to be, Right?”
She scoffed.
“Don’t worry,” I continued to laugh as I walked to the register. “When his face was between my legs, he made it clear what he thought of me. That works for now.”
“You’re just a hood bitch, living off of my dollars.” She sneered.
&
nbsp; “Wouldn’t you like to think so?” I laughed. “Dumb bitch. Get ya fucking life. If Ryan was the least bit interested in you, he’d be in you and not me. You feel me?”
“No, I don’t feel you.” Her face was screwed up in every way possible.
“Right because he does as much as he can.” I shook my head and walked to the register and put down two dollars. “Keep the change.”
I walked out and headed for home. When I arrived I saw a man sitting near my door with a hood on his head. I kept one foot on the elevator just in case I needed to run. The man turned, then took off his hood.
“It’s me, D’asia.” Ryan’s dark, short hair moved back into place.
I audibly exhaled and walked towards him.
“What’s up? You scared me,” I said in a low voice.
“Needed to see you.” he looked unsettled. “Only got 15 minutes.”
“Oh, okay. Is everything alright?”
“We’ll talk inside.”
After I had unlocked the door, we stepped into the living room and I asked again, “Is everything alright?”
“That’s the question I want to ask you.” He raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean?”
“You seemed like you were trying to say something earlier. You don’t want to talk about it and we haven’t addressed it, but I’m a cop. I love being a cop and shit does happen and people die. I get it, but I don’t want that to interfere with us.”
I shook my head as I thought about all the hatred I felt in the room earlier and how, for the most part, besides retaliating, I was in agreement.
“This is the thing, Ryan.” I leveled my eyes to his. “We live in two different worlds. You’ll never understand where I’m coming from. You don’t get that black people are targeted because they are just that. Black. You don’t get that driving while black is an actual thing. Shit, I’m nervous as a black woman, after what happened to Sandra Bland. You are on the other side and I don’t know how to reconcile that.” I was looking for a sign. “Don’t get me wrong. This has been great, but I just don’t see us making this beyond the sexual thing we have for each other.”