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The Prodigy Slave, Book Two: The Old World: (Revised Edition 2020)

Page 17

by Londyn Skye


  “You don’t deserve to be no goddamn Ghost Rida’. Wait ’til the otha’ Rida’s hear about this shit!” J.R. spat.

  Jesse popped J.R. in the mouth again. “Get the fuck off my goddamn property, you disrespectful piece ‘a shit!”

  James suddenly walked back in the door. By the way J.R. and Jesse turned and glared harshly at him, he could tell that there was trouble brewing.

  “Meredith!” J.R. yelled to his wife, still staring coldly at James.

  “Yes, J.R.?” she responded quickly after appearing in the doorway.

  “Round up the kids! We’re leavin’!” he demanded, his eyes still on James.

  “Yes J.R.” Meredith turned and proceeded to get all four of their children ready to go.

  J.R. turned to look at his father again. “You just leave it to me,” he said in reference to disciplining James. He turned and gave his brother another brutal glare before storming out of the kitchen.

  James did not want to be alone with his father in the kitchen either. Instead, he went to help Meredith with her children. James had an unrelenting need to show Meredith that somebody was there for her. He was disturbed by the way J.R. had treated her throughout the night. Meredith’s jumpy quick responses to J.R.’s demands and her meek disposition were a saddening reminder of his mother’s behavior in similar social settings. It left James even more convinced that Jesse Roscoe Junior shared far more with his father than just his name, husky body, and facial features. James had looked over at Meredith with deep concern throughout the evening, silently praying that his eyes and gut feeling were deceiving him about the abuse she was likely suffering. He prayed that he was just being paranoid. He prayed even harder that Meredith’s life would not be cut short at the hands of his despicable brother.

  While J.R. was securing their kids into the wagon, James helped Meredith into her coat and gave her a hug: two simple things J.R. would never have bothered to do. “It was really nice gettin’ to know you betta’ this evenin’,” James told her after pulling back from their brief embrace.

  “You too,” Meredith smiled. “It was a pleasure to see you again afta’ so many years.”

  “The pleasure was all mine.”

  Meredith nodded, turned, and headed toward the door.

  “Meredith,” James suddenly called out to her just before she stepped outside.

  She stopped and turned around.

  James took a few steps toward her. “I just want you to know that I think you’re an exceptional woman and motha’. You’re carin’, funny, and intelligent,” he smiled. “And very beautiful.”

  Meredith’s eyes suddenly began to well with tears as she stood there looking at James like he had just spoken to her in a foreign language.

  “Please don’t let anyone eva’ make you believe any differently about all of your wonderful attributes,” he added.

  Still, Meredith just stood there unable to utter a word in response.

  “You and your children deserve a wonderful life.” James reached over and touched her innocently on the cheek. “I hope you’ll always rememba’ that.”

  James’s compassionate words resonated deep into Meredith’s well of emotions. Understanding his implications, she nodded again and turned to join her husband in the wagon before her appreciative tears had a chance to fall. Despite what she may have thought of herself now, Meredith truly was all the things that James had mentioned. She was a former nurse with a warm smile and above average beauty, who gave up her career as her family grew. Like James’s mother, Meredith could have easily won the heart of a worthy upstanding gentleman, but she had been blindly lured into a monster’s lair, mistakenly thinking that she was being welcomed with loving arms into the castle of a prince.

  James watched from the porch as his brother hauled his lovely wife and their children away. After standing there a moment thinking about the parallels between Meredith and his mother, James turned to stare out at the slave quarters. It was the place he was drawn to every night after his mother’s tragic death. He was now suddenly fighting the urge to trek across the field and lie down next to Lily again as if time had gone backwards twelve years. All it took to relieve his stresses back then was letting Lily play in the tendrils of his hair while she hummed lightly in his ear. Within minutes, his worries drifted away, and his body drifted off into sleep. He was missing the innocence and ease of those days. He would give anything for that sort of simplicity to solve all his current problems, especially the new problem of J.R. as yet another enemy to contend with.

  After shaking himself from his trance, James went back into the house and stood quietly in the foyer for a moment. J.R.’s family was the only one who had departed. He could still hear Jacob’s three kids running around, drunken slurred storytelling, and eruptions of laughter between everyone else who had stayed behind. In everyone’s inebriated state, James was confident that they would not realize he was missing from the madness. During another burst of drunken laughter, he walked quietly past the parlor and tiptoed up the stairs to his room. He was hoping that his mind would stop racing enough for one evening to allow him to sleep for a change. With Lily on his mind, it had been a near impossible task as of late, and his body had suffered greatly for it. He turned the knob to his bedroom door, happy that the day was finally over. “What the hell’re you doin’ in here?!” James spat after being startled.

  Mary Jo just smiled and continued to sit with her legs crossed on the edge of his bed with an inviting smile on her face. “Why else would a woman be in a man’s bed?”

  “MJ,” James began. He closed his eyes tight, pinched the bridge of his nose just as tightly, and blew out a frustrated breath. “Look, I’ve worked all day. I’ve been up half the night. I’d really like to get some sleep,” he explained with as much calmness as he could muster, considering how aggravated he was to find her there.

  “A man’s neva’ too tired for me.”

  “MJ, I’m beggin’ you. Not tonight. I’m exhausted. Can we talk some otha’ time … Please?” he added, still trying to keep himself from erupting.

  “Oh, trust me … I’m not here to talk.” She leaned back and toyed with a string on her dress near her breasts.

  James opened the door wider. “When I’m well rested, I’ll be glad to … to … you know.” He could not even bring himself to lie about it. “Just not now. I’m dyin’ to get some sleep.”

  Mary Jo suddenly pulled out a piece of paper from behind her back. She cleared her throat and began reading its contents in a very childish voice:

  Dear James,

  Reading has been the most incredible escape for me, nearly as much as music. I find myself now picking through all the books on William’s shelf here in my room and reading all of the summaries on the back of each and every one. I had hoped to find at least one book to read before I fall asleep at night, but instead of finding one, I’ve found twelve! I guess I better get busy! I found one called Oliver Twist by a man named Charles Dickens. It’s about an orphan boy. I think I’ll start with that one. They all seem like they will be so wonderful, but I’m certain there will never be one that I’ll cherish more than the one you gave to me so many years ago, and that you have now so graciously taught me to read. I’m overjoyed that I can write now too, but I don’t think there are enough words I can use in this letter to express how grateful I am to you for giving me the ability to abandon the tribulations of life for a while by escaping into the beautiful world of fantasy. Now that my lessons are over, I’ll miss our evening reading sessions by the lake, but I’ll always cherish the memories of the precious gift that you have bestowed upon me.

  Thank you kindly,

  Sincerely,

  Lily

  Mary Jo looked up at James when she was finished reading. “Still too tired?”

  James exhaled sharply, slammed his bedroom door, and locked it. He was wondering when the Devil would finally stop adding to the pile of excrement he was already buried underneath.

  “Oliva’ Twi
st?” Mary Jo yawned. “What a bore. Poor, poor Leela. She really needs to work on her penmanship. I’ve seen five-year-olds write betta’ than this. I’d give her an F…” She crumpled the letter and tossed it aside. “Unless…”

  “Unless what Mary Jo?” James asked, sounding thoroughly annoyed.

  “Unless her teacha’ does whateva’ I tell ’em to do.”

  “What the hell do you want from me?!” James barked, finally letting anger seep into his tone.

  Mary Jo sprang from the bed. “I saw you near that theata’ in Jamestown huggin’ and kissin’ that whore, slitherin’ yo’ arms all ova’ her,” she explained, embellishing the part about the kissing.

  James knew he was sometimes very overt with his affections for Lily and never questioned whether Mary Jo was being completely forthright. “Get to your point, MJ,” he said with obvious impatience.

  “You know the point,” she said in a lust-filled tone as she began walking toward him.

  “I’m not gonna be unfaithful to Lily,” he admitted without hesitation after accepting that he was now caught in Mary Jo’s web.

  “Unfaithful?!” Mary Jo stepped back and looked at him like he was insane. “You seriously consida’ your sinful, sexual misconduct with that caramel-colored bitch as a relationship?” she laughed.

  James just stared at her, not finding anything funny about his relationship with Lily.

  Mary Jo perched her hands on her hips and her mouth fell open. “You really are in love with that filthy nigga’, aren’t you?” she asked, looking appalled by such a thing.

  “You’re gonna draw your own conclusion no matta’ what I say.”

  “I don’t have to draw conclusions. You were already foolish enough to confess your love to that whore in those letta’s. Not to mention her scribblin’ your praises for the way you’s fuckin’ ’er.”

  “Mary Jo, if you’re not gonna tell me what the hell you want from me, can you please just leave?”

  She lowered her eyelids. “I want you to fuck me ’til I’m singin’ your praises too,” she moaned, looking as if she was already on the verge of an orgasm.

  Mary Jo had never looked more like a lunatic to James as she did at that moment. “Why the hell were you rummagin’ through my things in the first place?” he asked, changing the subject and ignoring her bold statement.

  “I noticed in those letta’s Leela neva’ once said anything about lovin’ you. It makes no sense that you’re bein’ so resistant ova’ a nigga’ who clearly has no real feelin’s for you.”

  “Do you get some twisted pleasure outta tryna make people feel miserable?”

  Mary Jo smiled to confirm his assumption. She then bypassed a direct verbal answer. “I’ve heard whispa’s about the things your daddy’s done to nigga’ lovin’ white folks,” she said as she walked over and began fiddling with things on James’s dresser. “Just imagine the things he’d do if he found out his very own son was a nigga’ lova’.” She began walking toward James, untying her dress strings along the way.

  James turned his head, unwilling to look at the parts of her body she was about to reveal.

  “I said, I’m not gonna be unfaithful to Lily.”

  Mary Jo stopped, and her face turned a bright shade of red. “What could possibly make you want that lowly nigga’ more than me?!”

  “MJ, you’re worth more than this,” James deflected, in a subtle attempt to talk her out of her scheme.

  “Don’t try to play those pathetic mind games with me!” Mary Jo erupted. “I know good ’n damn well what I’m worth! And I know what those letta’s your little whore wrote will be worth too when I put ’em in the hands of the sheriff!”

  I’d ratha’ do the jail time than sleep with you. “A slap on the wrist, community service, maybe a few months of jail at worse, so what?” James knew he had no way out of the situation. The best he felt he could do now was make it seem as though the letters would not scare him into doing what she wanted, despite the fact that he knew how much weight they carried.

  “You may not be afraid of jail time, but I bet yo’ daddy is a whole different story. He’d lose the town’s respect, as well as my fatha’s business. Lord knows the hell and fury that’ll rain down on you if you make a laughin’ stock outta Jesse Adams. And while you’re doin’ hard time, ain’t no tellin’ what he’d do to your little honey-brown whore. It would just break my heart to see sweet little ol’ Leela all chained up headed down to the auction afta’ he done whipped her good,” she said, her tone heavy with sarcasm. “It’d be a shame if it came to all that ova’ me not gettin’ what I want, now wouldn’t it?” Mary Jo saw the look on James’s face at that moment and knew that she had finally found the perfect nail to seal his coffin.

  The jail time did not matter to James, but Mary Jo was right. When it came to the matter of what his father would do to Lily, that was a completely different story. The sudden panicked look Mary Jo saw on James’s face was a result of the nightmarish image of Lily’s mutilated, burning body returning in vivid colors to his mind. It was the same recurring visual that never failed to bring him instantly into submission over the years when it came to his behavior. On this night, its effects would prove to still be just as powerful. With that horrible scene in his mind, James grabbed Mary Jo by the hair and tilted her head back. “Is this what you really want? Some man to fuck you who doesn’t love you?!” he snarled through gritted teeth.

  His violent maneuver turned Mary Jo on even more. “Oh, you will love me,” she moaned. “Make no mistake about that. They all do. It neva’ fails.” She took James’s hand and made him place it on her buttocks. “Once you get to feel the inside ‘a me, you’ll learn you ain’t immune to fallin’ for me eitha’.” She leaned in close to him. “And I think you need to learn that lesson right now,” she whispered seductively, suckling on his ear.” She then stepped backward toward his bed, slowly disrobing.

  James had hoped that blatantly expressing his lack of feelings for Mary Jo would put an end to her charade. But as with all things he had done to repel her, it only made her want him more. Mary Jo especially loved the thought of being controlled and dominated by a man for once. She had grown bored with men she could easily push around. She wanted a challenge for a change, and she looked forward to James being just that. She expected that he would initially be upset over her blackmail, but she was truly convinced that he would fall for her in due time. After so many men had fallen for her charms in the past, she was confident that her current rouse would yield the same result. Conversely, James was just as confident that falling in love, or even in like, with Mary Jo Parker was an emotional impossibility. However, he could not figure a way out of his current disgusting situation, and felt he had no choice but to concede to her wishes.

  James may have had to comply, but he was hell-bent on protecting himself the way he had with every woman before Lily. He quickly foraged through his trunk and found one of his sheepskin condoms. Condom or not, he had no intention whatsoever of climaxing inside of Mary Jo. He wanted to be sure that she could never make the claim of carrying his child and then fear that her words could potentially be true. After finding protection, though, James realized that he had no erection to slide it over. In this case, however, he did not feel the least bit embarrassed about it.

  While James just stood there, infuriated and uninterested, Mary Jo had laid back on the bed in a seductive pose after stripping down to her skimpy lingerie. James continued to look at her, feeling a sense of disbelief that she was even paler underneath all her clothing. As pale as her face was, he did not think such a thing was possible. It was all he could do to keep from laughing at her. He then realized that her corset had done a fine job of creating the illusion of womanly curves. Had she not been as white as she was, he would have mistaken her for a malnourished slave. He could easily see her ribs and her collar bone. Her breasts were no bigger than a pre-teen girl’s newly formed chest buds, and her hips were as shapeless as a teenaged boy’s. He wondered how
any man could have ever hardened after looking at her, let alone worked himself up enough to climax inside of her. The longer he gazed at her, the sicker he got to his stomach and the more his manhood failed to cooperate. For James, the mere thought of entering Mary Jo was tantamount to torture, and so too was the thought of being unfaithful to Lily.

  When James did not move away from his trunk, Mary Jo got up off the bed and walked slowly over to him. “Don’t pretend to be shy,” she said, hunger present in her voice.

  I’m not shy. I’m disgusted.

  Mary Jo began kissing his neck and unbuttoning his shirt. Still, James remained limp. Mary Jo’s tongue grazed his ear. Still, his manhood did not react. She undid a few more of his buttons, but he quickly grabbed her hands and looked at her with hate in his eyes. Mary Jo, of course, interpreted his look as a hunger that was equal to hers. James may have been stuck conceding to her desires, but he had no intention of doing things exactly in the manner that she wanted. He had all intention of his shirt remaining exactly where it was, along with all his other clothing. Not once was he going to give Mary Jo a glimpse of his chiseled body. Lily owned him. What he possessed was for her eyes only.

  Despite feeling forced to fulfill the dreaded duty of sharing his body with Mary Jo, at the very least, James wanted to ensure that there was nothing passionate about their encounter. There would be no kissing, sucking, fondling, or caressing. He did not want to leave her with moments of warm intimacy to interpret as love, passion, or feelings. He wanted all of it to be as cold and meaningless as sex could possibly be. With all his clothes still in place, James manhandled Mary Jo forcefully over to the bed. There would be no “making love” to her. She said she wanted to be fucked, and that was exactly what he planned to do. He did not want to look at her. He did not want to lay on her. He bent her over and put her face down on the mattress, positioning her in a manner that assured as little bodily contact with her as possible. It was his goal to make Mary Jo never again beg for such a thing from him. But in typical Mary Jo fashion, she was getting an exhilarating sexual rush out of his forceful maneuvers. She was moaning with excitement and dripping with anticipation of finally feeling a real strapping man stroking inside of her. She heard James’s belt buckle coming loose and let out yet another growl. But James froze. The rage and sense of disloyalty that was coursing through him made his body continue to fail him.

 

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