Elle opened her car door, and just as her black heels touched the asphalt, the sky opened up and rain poured. She took in her surroundings. Gospel music echoed from inside the church, and laughter drifted from behind her.
Rain soaked her as she walked toward the cliff, her footsteps steady and deliberate.
Whore.
Freak.
Dyke.
Shame.
Pathetic.
You will always have to live the life someone else wants for you.
Elle closed her eyes and continued to walk. The rocky terrain was loose beneath her feet. Her heels wobbled, and her legs were turning into twigs.
Do it!
She pulled in a breath, and just as she took a step, the rain stopped, and an unexpected umbrella shielded her from the elements. “Whoa, beautiful.” She opened her eyes and felt someone grab her arm, softly pulling her back. A baritone voice slipped into her ear. “The view is amazing, but it’s dangerous over here. If you don’t mind, I’d love to show you the view from the other side. By the way, the name’s Montgomery, but everyone calls me Monty.”
So I became . . .
2017
Chapter 12
Monty
“This is really inconvenient, Carson.” Monty stood in the middle of a moonlit, abandoned warehouse, with one hand slid into his tuxedo pants’ pocket and the other stroking his cleft chin. “I should be with my wife. Instead, I’m here with you, attending to your inconsiderate and unnecessary bullshit.”
Monty shook his head in disgust, then looked over at Dominic Sparks—whom he called one of his brothers—though he was actually an old friend and his newly appointed secretary of state. He then looked to Van and Johnson, two of his security officers and henchmen, who stood on either side of a bound, bloody, and barely recognizable Carson Young.
Monty walked over to Carson and gripped his chin. Blood bubbled out the sides of Carson’s mouth as he said, “Monty, man, please. Let me explain—”
Monty flung his face away and spat, “Anything you have to say is already too late.”
Blood dripped from Carson’s mouth as he held his head down and mumbled incoherently, “I’m trying to help you.” He choked on his sobs.
“Trying to help me? You’re trying to get in better with The Family. Trying to take my spot and make me the sacrifice. Trying to help me?” He scoffed. “You’re trying to betray me.”
“You got it all wrong.” Painful moans escaped Carson’s lips. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with. You think you know, but you don’t know shit.”
Monty continued, “If you had just done what you’d been told to do, run Each One, Reach One. It’s a foundation, for Pete’s sake. How hard could that fuckin’ be? Someone else was in charge of the books. Someone else collected the donations. Someone else made sure the food, clothing, and apartment vouchers were sent out. All you needed to do was smile, speak well, and monitor the ins and outs. That’s it. Though I see now that wasn’t enough work for you. You had to search through the computers, look around, and download files. Run your mouth and ask questions about things that didn’t concern you. And for what? For who? We made the same pledge, to be brothers, and now look at you. Look at this—was it worth it?”
“Monty—”
“You really didn’t think I’d have someone watching you? You really thought you would somehow get away with this, when I have eyes everywhere?”
“Please, listen to me. It’s not what you think. You know me, Monty.”
“Apparently not.”
“I’m my brothers’ keeper.”
“Are you?”
“Think about my wife, she’s pregnant. And my little girl . . .” Carson’s voice cracked as he spoke.
Monty crouched beside him. “You should’ve thought of them before you called for war.”
“I just—”
“Got in over your head.” Monty looked down at his watch. “Time’s up.” He brushed invisible wrinkles from his black tuxedo lapel, then looked over to Dominic. “You know what to do.”
Carson’s piercing screams sliced the air as Monty turned away and walked out the door. A few seconds later, the screams were silenced by a round of bullets ringing out behind him.
Chapter 13
Elle
Elle started not to accept it.
Sheila’s Facebook friend request.
Hell, they hadn’t spoken since they were seventeen and Sheila had abandoned her on the beach.
Nonetheless—a year ago—out of the blue and pinging across the cyber waves of Al Gore’s internet was Sheila Jordan.
Elle’s heart fluttered before it collapsed to the pit of her stomach.
Before accepting the request, she read Sheila’s bio: Black Woman Magic. Then she inspected her pics: no kids, no wife, a woman here, a woman there. Well-traveled. Crafter. Happy. Beautiful. Liked jazz. Poetry. Ballet. Broadway plays. Dallas Cowboys. New York Knicks.
She left the request pending for a month before finally accepting it. An instant message from Sheila followed.
“It’s been a while. I’ve missed you over the years and am happy to find you. As per your profile pic, you’re as pretty as ever. Hope this message finds you well.”
Elle’s reply was Fuck you. She just never sent it, instead opting to leave the message unanswered.
Later came Sheila’s selfie appearing in Elle’s daily timeline, along with a funny meme here, an inspirational quote there. Finally, she responded to Sheila’s message with a simple, “I missed you too.”
“Let’s hang out.” Sheila responded. “Catch up.”
What did that mean? Elle struggled not to read into it. She didn’t want to overthink it. She wanted to play it as cool as Sheila seemed to be. And maybe, maybe, they could be friends. Maybe the bit of sun that left the day they broke up would return. God knows, over the years, she’d missed more than Sheila’s touch. She missed having someone to whisper her most intimate secrets to. Tell the craziest things to. Yeah, she had Monty . . . but Monty was different. She couldn’t tell him, but so much, because she had to watch him. He was capable of anything, and she didn’t always know what he was thinking. And for once, for fucking once, she wanted someone she could trust when she exhaled and didn’t have to wonder what they were thinking.
After all these years, she didn’t know if that person was still Sheila . . . but maybe it was.
Elle agreed to catch up.
Soon their catching up led to laughing, dancing, confessions. . . magic . . . stolen moments.
To today.
“Congratulations, baby!” Elle said, rushing into Sheila’s apartment. “I can’t stay long, but I had to see you! A promotion, that’s huge! So, what are you now, chief?”
Sheila giggled. “Slow down. Not quite. But that’s eventually the plan. My detail was changed. I’m now on a special squad.”
“I’m proud of you.” Elle smiled and looked Sheila over: She was five foot nine with a slim frame, maple-colored skin, high cheeks, and cat-eyed black frames that she slid off and placed on a wall shelf. A ponytail dangled from the crown of her head to the center of her shoulder blades. She was dressed in a crisp, white button-up blouse, tucked into a pair of pleated black dress pants with a thin gold belt through the hoops. A tailored black blazer fell to her narrow hips and curtained her Glock .23. On her feet were four-inch black pumps.
Sheila gripped Elle by the hips and yanked her close. She could tell by the look on Elle’s face that she loved being manhandled. Actually, it turned them both on. Sheila snatched Elle even closer, taking Elle’s earlobe into her mouth and biting it.
Elle winced.
Sheila slid a hand into Elle’s hair and pulled it while nibbling along the sides of her neck, chin, then back to her earlobe, where she said in a breathy whisper, “God, have I missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too, baby. Getting away isn’t always easy for me.”
“I know.”
Elle placed a soft kiss on Sheila�
�s lips. “We don’t have a lot of time. He told me he had some unexpected business that needed his attention. I suspect he’ll be back soon, though.”
Sheila unzipped the back of Elle’s strapless gown and unsnapped her bra, freeing her small and perky breasts. “Do you think he’ll look for you?” She pushed Elle’s breasts together, slipping both nipples into her mouth, rotating sucks, pulls, and soft bites.
“Umm, baby.” Elle moaned, cupping Sheila’s cheeks. She loved the feel of Sheila’s mouth clinging to her nipples. “He will definitely look for me.”
“But I’m hungry,” Sheila said, walking Elle backward to the sofa.
“Then you have to eat.” Elle pulled her dress over her hips as Sheila slipped her hands between Elle’s legs and palmed her pussy.
Elle hissed as Sheila eased her panties down, crouched to her knees, and slid her thirsting tongue into Elle’s awaiting middle.
Elle moaned as Sheila licked around, over, and along the sides of her pulsating clit, causing her to scream and her thighs to shake and clap against Sheila’s ears.
Sheila stretched her arm up and covered Elle’s mouth with her hand.
A light giggle and moan escaped from Elle as she took Sheila’s fingers and licked in between them.
Sheila’s tongue strokes intensified, and Elle’s moans turned into quick pants. Elle gripped her breasts and pinched her nipples until a tinge of sweet pain shot through them.
“Suck it, baby,” Elle panted. “Please,” she begged, her thighs shaking uncontrollably. She flailed her arms and knocked the porcelain bottle of liquid soap off the counter. The bottle crashed to the floor and shattered into a million pieces.
Elle gripped the back of Sheila’s neck and pushed her face deeper into her pumping pussy.
Sheila sucked Elle’s creamy middle while gently licking her clit.
“Baby, my God! Oh, yes, I’m cumming!” Her stomach contracted, and her head was seconds from exploding. She panted. “Eat it up for me, baby.”
“I am,” Sheila moaned. “You taste,” she said, “so”—she sucked, licked, sucked—“fucking”—suck, lick, lick, lick-lick—“good.”
Elle pushed Sheila’s face deeper between her thighs, and just as Sheila was seconds from losing her breath, Elle’s erotic milk filled her mouth.
Elle grinned as Sheila stood up straight and helped her off the sofa. She stepped into Sheila, kissed her glistening lips, and whispered against them, “My turn.”
She slid to her knees.
Chapter 14
Monty
Monty sipped his old-fashioned glass of scotch as he looked around his new governor’s office. From the state flag, the dark blue–carpeted floor, and the antique mahogany bureau where his gubernatorial predecessors had worked, to the black leather, high-back chair pushed behind it. The oblong conference table, where he envisioned morning meetings with his immediate staff, to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Sacramento skyline.
“From City Hall to the State Capitol,” he said to his wife, Elle, placing his drink on the edge of his desk.
Elle stepped in close to Monty, lifted his dark blue necktie, and fastened a small metal pin in the shape of California to it. She ran her hands down the lapel of his tuxedo jacket and spotted a speckle of blood on his shirt. “What’s this?”
He looked. “Nothing.” He moved her hand. “I tried to give myself a quick shave earlier, obviously a bloody mistake.” He laughed.
She didn’t. “Maybe you need to change.”
“No one will see it,” he assured her.
“But—”
“Elle, let it go.”
“You’re right.” She smiled.
“I looked for you when I came back. Where were you?”
She wavered. “Umm, probably getting dressed. I wasn’t crazy about the first outfit I had on.”
“I looked in your dressing room. I didn’t see you.”
Elle squinted. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes, why are you asking me that?”
“Because you don’t typically question me so.”
He paused. “You’re right, it’s my nerves. I just want everything to be perfect.”
“It will be. Just know that I’m so incredibly proud of you.”
“Of us,” Monty said as he moved a lone wild curl that danced into Elle’s eye, and placed it behind her ear.
Elle slid her arms around his thick neck and braided her fingers together. “Of us.”
“We’ve worked so damn hard, baby. I couldn’t have done this without you. But you know that, don’t you?”
“Of course.”
“We make one hell of a team.”
“That we do.” Elle grinned. “I always knew you would win, though.”
“I thought so too. Hell, everyone did. The polls were in my favor, but polls can lie.”
“They didn’t this time. Besides, you worked hard. Visiting churches. Feeding the homeless. Knocking on doors. Kissing babies. Making personal phone calls. Showing up at hospital beds. In today’s political climate, people miss having warm politicians who feel like family, someone they can envision sitting down to Sunday supper with and telling their problems to. Someone who really cares. And when word spread that you were that type of man . . .” She paused, then whispered against his lips, “The sky opened up.”
“Yes, it did.” He kissed her.
“Who would’ve ever thought that a plain ol’ girl like me would be the First Lady of California?” She unlocked her fingers, took his hand, and did a two-step.
Monty twirled her, then dipped her. Pulled her back to his chest. “Ahhh, First Lady, now that’s one hell of a title.” He kissed the violin curve of her neck. “I do believe I’m the luckiest man on earth.”
Elle blushed. “Tell me more.”
Monty laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. “Ellaina Fields, you are more than I deserve. More than I’ve ever thought to pray for. I love you.” He hesitated. “And I know I haven’t been perfect.”
“Shh.” She pressed a finger to his lips. “We’re beyond that now.”
He kissed her fingertip. “Just let me say this. I’m sorry for anything I’ve ever done to hurt you. And I truly pray you have forgiven me. I know this has all been a lot—”
“Why, Governor Montgomery Alexander Fields the Third,” Elle said in an exaggerated Southern accent, “we are here to celebrate you. You were sworn in as governor of California this morning, and this very evening some of the greatest people of this state await you in the East Wing’s ballroom for a grand celebration.” She moved her hips. “I’d much rather do a shimmy to that. I’m in no mood to touch on old and tender wounds. Let them heal. Quietly.”
He placed his chin on her forehead. “You’re right. But I just need you to know how much you really mean to me and how special you are. I promise you. You have my word. I’m going to do my all to be the man you need me to be. The father I need to be for our two sons. The man I need to be for me. And the governor I have sworn to be for the people I serve.”
“Was that off the cuff?”
Monty blinked in disbelief. “What?”
“The part from ‘I promise you.’ That part?”
He squinted, attempting to read her thoughts. “I don’t understand why you would ask me something like that. I said all of that from my heart. And I can’t believe you would think otherwise.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve insulted you. That wasn’t my intention. It’s just that what you said was so marvelously stated, my love. And it suddenly occurred to me that the speech I’ve written for you didn’t have the right hook at the end. It didn’t tug on any heartstrings. And what you just said, that’s the hook. That’s the tug.”
“It wasn’t for the people—it was for you.”
“I know, honey. I know. And I know you love the boys and me. That you would never do anything to hurt me, again. Like I’ve always said, you are a wonderful man, and the people elected you because they believe in you. And if
you add what you just said to me to the end of your speech”—she pumped her fist—“my God, in four years I’ll be picking out china in the White House.”
He smiled. Kissed her on the forehead. “Leave it to my Elle. You are something else.” He squeezed her tight.
Knock. Knock.
“Come in,” Monty said, continuing to hold Elle by the waist.
Dominic opened the door and stepped over the threshold. He eyed the couple. “If this isn’t a good time, I could come back.”
“No, now is fine, Dominic,” Monty said.
“Sure?”
“Promise,” Elle reassured him. “We were just getting ready to go downstairs and get this party started.”
Dominic smiled and gave her a soft wink. “It’s a packed house too.” He looked over at Monty. “And Stephen Himes is here.”
“The Mr. Himes?” Elle smiled. “From ICC?”
“Yes.” Dominic nodded.
“Oh, I have to meet him. His donation was so generous, I need to thank him in person. As well as thank him for his support during the campaign. You have to introduce us, Monty. I hope he brought his wife. I’d love to meet her too.”
Monty gave a light chuckle. “Sure thing, sweetheart.”
Dominic smiled, then said, “Now, on to the most pressing reason that I’m here. I needed to introduce you to the newest addition to your security detail team. Officer Jordan.” Dominic turned back toward the doorway.
Empty.
“She was just behind me—Officer Jordan?” Dominic called as he stepped out of the office and into the hallway.
“I’m here.” A raspy voice drifted into the office from the doorway. “I apologize for not being right behind you, sir.” She stepped into the office.
“This is Officer Sheila Jordan, the newest member of your security team. Of course, Van and Johnson will remain close by, outside work mostly. Sheila will be assigned to the office.” Dominic smiled as he looked over at Sheila, who stared straight ahead at Elle.
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