My Storm

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My Storm Page 20

by Tiffany Patterson


  But now I feel his fingertips grazing my shoulder, stroking and comforting me. That encourages me to continue. “One day I got desperate. I was hungry and had no money so…” I sigh, ashamed most about this. “I decided to go back to what I knew. I began tricking to make money. I only lasted a few weeks before I was arrested. I thought I was going to jail for a long time, but even that scared me less than the idea of having to go back to the street and do what I was doing. I was young with no discernable skills and no family. The guards in jail weren’t much better than the tricks on the street, though. Most of them were grown men who would prostitute the girls they were supposed to be supervising. I saw everyone from prison guards to police officers involved in it. Thank God, I never was never in there long enough to be recruited for that, but it was happening. I even knew a few of the girls involved. The guards threatened anyone who dare to tell. And who the hell would believe juvenile delinquents over prison guards anyway, right?” I snort and shrug, a part of me still feeling like that helpless seventeen-year-old.

  “How’d you get released?” His voice is laced in a tone I’ve never heard before.

  Is he disgusted by me?

  “About a month after my arrest, a guard appeared and told me to come with him. I was scared as shit. I just knew he was going to try to pimp me out. I was ready to run. Instead, he escorted me to the front of the jail where I was given my meager belongings and told I was free to go. It scared the hell out of me too until I looked up and saw Coral standing there, ripping into a prison official for not trying to contact someone about me. It was the first time I had seen her in years.”

  “She came for you.”

  I close my eyes as more tears fall and nod. “She did,” I say in a shaky voice. “That was the first time I met Liam too. He was with her. She had taken time out of her leave from war to find me. S-she…she…is my sister. Stacey…too,” I stutter. “We have the same father. He cheated on their mother with mine although Stacey didn’t know until recently. Coral has known since we were kids. When we were still young she promised to always look out for me, even though we weren’t supposed to know we were sisters. My father barely acknowledged my existence. Even after she moved away and went to college, Coral still kept in contact with me until my mother dragged us to Virginia. Coral got me into a program up in Central Massachusetts that provided me with counseling, GED classes, and a place to live and heal. I stayed there for nearly three years until I felt stable enough to move out on my own. I got a job working as a legal secretary and lived just outside Boston for a few years. I took some community college courses in creative writing and decided to finish a story I’d started when I was thirteen years old and locked up in a dingy bedroom in Virginia. That would become my first published book. When I realized I could live off the money I made as an author, I quit my job and moved to Vermont for the peace and quiet. I rarely dated. The idea of sex repulsed me for so long because of what I’d been through. Eventually, it got better and I dated someone for a while. He was okay, and our relationship was...nice. But we weren’t on the same page sexually. I’d shut down and just lay there until he was finished. That was my last relationship. It’s also why I hate New York and why I refuse to do public appearances for my books. The fear of being recognized by someone or the world finding out my sordid past.” I tremble at that thought. “Anyway, when Coral moved to Dallas and asked me to come with her to be closer, I agreed, happy to live so close to my sister again. Then I met you and all of a sudden, I wanted more,” I admit finally, looking up at him.

  His eyes were dark, something lurking behind them. They remained on me, searching for something. We stared at one another for a long time before he pulled me in, kissed my forehead, and pulled the blanket completely over us. He gently lowered me down, silently encouraging to me to go to sleep. Without protest, I did. I was tired and mentally drained after all I had just revealed; my secret shame. My eyelids fluttered before finally closing as I drifted off to a deep sleep.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jeremy

  “Okay, what do you think of this one?” LaTasha asks, holding up an electric blue dress against her body. It’s sexy and stops right above her knees. With the pair of high heels I’d purchased her for this event, I’m sure she’d look great in it.

  “It’s perfect,” I say half-heartedly. I try hard not to display what I’m feeling, but after what she’d revealed last night, it’s hard. The anguish in her voice as she recalled what that bastard had made her do as a child, fucked with me. It made me want to tear the entire state of Virginia up looking for him. And if Coral hadn’t assured me that he’d been taken care of long ago, I would do just that. I got up in the wee hours of the morning to call Coral just to double check that everyone involved in LaTasha’s horrific past had paid a price. She’d assured me they all had. Everyone from her mother’s boyfriend who had pimped her, his friend who was her first john, and even the prison guards that were involved in the prostitution ring at the juvenile detention center—they all had been handled. And Coral had even forwarded me copies of their obituaries and gravesites to prove it. Even knowing that, the anger oozing through my veins hadn’t subsided. In fact, it felt worse. The fact that I wanted to hurt those bastards, but I was unable to because they’d already been handled, bothered me.

  “Is everything okay?” LaTasha asks.

  I peer up at her, from my position on the bed. I can see fear clouding her pretty eyes.

  “You’ve been distant most of today, and I completely understand after what I told you last night. I realize it’s a lot to deal with and if you want to back out or…” She hesitates, looking everywhere but in my eyes. “Or if you don’t want to be involved with me—”

  “Come here,” I say, extending my hand to her. When she reaches for my hand, I pull her onto my lap and nuzzle her neck with my nose. “There’s nothing you could tell me to make me want to end things with you,” I say, realizing for the first time the truth of my words. “Nothing. Because I’ve already fallen in love with you.”

  She gasps and pulls back peering down at me.

  I continue. “The truth is I hate what those bastards did to you and if I didn’t already have assurances that they’d been taken care of, I would’ve had my investigator on the phone in the middle of the night to hunt them all down.” I hear the danger in my own voice and wonder if I’m scaring her.

  “What do you mean they’ve been already taken care of?”

  I shut my eyes, briefly debating on what to tell her…if I should tell her anything. “Coral,” I simply say.

  “She did something to them?” she queries, her voice disbelieving.

  “She eliminated them,” I say with little remorse.

  “Eliminated? You mean…”

  The look I give her is unflinching. “Yes. They’re dead. Your mother’s boyfriend, his friend, and the prison guards were all eliminated a long time ago. And if Coral hadn’t offed them with Liam’s help of course, I certainly would have.”

  LaTasha stares at me in disbelief.

  “Coral and I are cut from the same cloth,” I continue. “She’s a natural protector. There’s no way someone can hurt the people we love to the extent you were hurt and be allowed to continue walking this earth. No way.” I shake my head at the mere thought of it. “I’ll just needed some time to get past my anger of not being the one who put the nail in their coffins. I hate that I couldn’t do that for you.” I press a palm to her warm cheek and stroke it with my thumb.

  I notice LaTasha’s watery eyes sparkle with something as a tender smile touches her lips. “You love me?”

  I nod. “Yes.” I don’t even have to think about that answer.

  “Me too,” she admits above a whisper.

  “You too what?” I want to hear the words.

  “Love you. I love you too.”

  The muscle in my chest squeezes from her declaration.

  “This shit is crazy,” I say before sighing and rubbing my hand through my hair.
I never thought I’d be one much for love, yet here the hell I am, chest deep into the shit with the woman in my arms.

  “My very own Wolverine.”

  That makes me laugh out loud for the first time that day. “And you’re my real-life Storm,” I return.

  “Tuh,” she mocked. “I don’t think so. Ororo is fierce—”

  “And a survivor with a vulnerable side just like you. She has the power to turn a stormy and cloudy day into sunshine within minutes. That’s exactly what you do for me. Jesus, when the fuck did I start sounding so Goddamn lame?!” I question out loud, causing LaTasha to chuckle as she pulls me in for a hug.

  “You’re a regular sap, Mr. Bennett.”

  “Only for you, doll.” I mean those words with every fiber of my being. I pull back enough to see her wiping tears from her eyes. Her dark skin peeking out from the edges of the white plush hotel robe she’s wearing, is begging to be touched. Never one to be able to deny myself of this woman for too long, I oblige, pushing the top part of the robe down over her bare shoulders. Her smooth skin greets me like a present on Christmas morning, and I push the robe down further until one of her naked breasts is exposed from underneath. Her nipple is already pert, asking to be licked. I lower my head, stick out my tongue, and twirl it around her areola, teasing her. My cock begins to stiffen when I hear her hiss at my tongue’s contact.

  “Jeremy,” she whispers breathlessly.

  The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, something that happens anytime she says my name. Right now, I’m not Sir. I’m Jeremy Bennett. Not a Dom, but a man who is fully intent on making love to his woman. I groan with anticipation as I lay her back against the bed, managing to pull open her robe. I hold her arms above her head and stare down at the woman beneath me. She’s so strong yet so pliable underneath me. Her huge honey eyes never leave my face, begging me to touch her. I lower my head to kiss one corner of her mouth. Then I kiss the other one, the top of her nose, forehead, chest, and on and on until I reach the valley between her legs. She easily opens her legs, keeping her hands perched above her head even though my hands are now wrapped around her thighs. She’s surrendering to me just the way I love. I gladly spend the rest of the night devouring her body. The screams she emits as I take her, alerts anyone within earshot that this woman belongs to me.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tasha

  “Surprise!” Stacey screams and pulls me into a tight hug.

  “Oh my God!” I say stunned as I look over Stacey’s shoulder to see a smiling Coral.

  Coral, Stacey, and their husbands have just surprised Jeremy and me as we entered the National Book Awards dinner.

  “What’re you doing here? How did you know about it?” As soon as those questions fly from my mouth, I turn to look over at Jeremy’s smiling eyes. “You planned this?”

  “I thought your sisters would want to watch you win this award.”

  I remain mute, unable to say anything past the huge lump that has just formed in my throat. I blink rapidly to keep the tears from falling.

  “Don’t get all teary-eyed now. You still have yet to explain why you neglected to invite us,” Coral insists, angrily.

  Despite her attitude, I admire how gorgeous she looks in her dark blue dress that hugs her new hips thanks to LJ. The hemline flares out at the bottom. Stacey is dressed in a pastel pink dress that stops a few inches below her knees. Both of their husbands are dressed in black colored tuxedos that have been tailored to fit their bodies perfectly. They almost look as good as my man.

  “Congratulations, Tasha and welcome to the family,” Andre greets me and pulls me into a hug. He places a soft kiss on my cheek too.

  I hear Jeremy clear his throat behind me. I look over my shoulder to see him frowning at Andre’s closeness.

  “Calm the hell down, Bennett. No one’s making moves on your woman, especially not with my wife standing right here,” Andre retorts, causing everyone to laugh except Jeremy.

  “Anyway, you still haven’t answered my question.” Coral’s face remains trained on me.

  I sigh and look at Jeremy for help, but he offers none. “Traitor,” I mouth to him. “I…uh…wasn’t planning to attend, but someone convinced me that I should, but it was kind of last minute.”

  “Coral, leave our sister alone. It’s not like she neglected to invite us to her wedding,” Stacey retorts, causing everyone to laugh.

  Coral and Liam’s first wedding was a private ceremony in Hawaii and Stacey has yet to let our big sister live it down.

  “Leave my wife alone,” Liam defends pulling Coral into his side. “Anyway, we should probably find our seats.”

  With that, Jeremy sticks out his arm for me to wrap my hand around. He escorts me into the dining hall, the rest of our family in tow.

  ****

  Sometime later, the boisterous conversation at the table helps to drown out the pounding of my heartbeat—almost. It helps to have all my family here with me. Their confidence in me winning tonight makes me almost believe I will too. I try to convince myself that even if I don’t win, having everyone I love right now with me is still worth it. But I really want to win. I can finally admit that to myself now. I begin to tap my leg as a result of nervous energy coursing through my body. A large hand squeezes it, halting my movement. I turn to my left to see a devilish smirk and a pair of sparkling green eyes staring at me. He’s silently telling me how proud he already is of me, and that I have nothing to be nervous or ashamed about. I’m not even sure how I can tell he’s communicating all of that, but I know. I notice the beating of my heart relaxes and the anxious knot in my belly subsides slightly. It’s still there, but much less ferocious. Jeremy leans down and presses his lips to my cheek.

  “Eat. You don’t want to make your thank you speech on an empty stomach,” he says, before pressing his lips to my cheek again and pulls back.

  “What will you do if I don’t?” I ask, feeling bold all of a sudden. Even with all my nerves and the anxiousness of this night, I get off on teasing him.

  “You already know the answer to that,” he growls low in my ear, squeezing my thigh again.

  The flutter in my belly is no longer due to nervousness about the award, but now it’s all about the man sitting beside me. I grin as I pick up my fork and knife to cut into the chicken breast.

  “He’s a keeper,” a feminine voice to my right sings.

  I look over at a smirking Camille, my book agent. She’s the only non-family member at this table.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Her bright brown eyes glint with a familiar mischievousness as her full, pink tinted lips quirk into a knowing smile. “Don’t act coy with me. I’ve been watching you two since you arrived tonight,” she says just above a whisper. “And he had your people fly in just to celebrate you,” she says, nodding to everyone at the table. “But I’ll mind my business for now. Your category is next.”

  My brows crinkle in confusion as I watch her turn her attention to the front of the room. I too, swivel my head in that direction and realize the speaker is now talking about my literary category. This is confirmed when I look behind the speaker and see a copy of my book’s cover along with three other young adult book covers, belonging to my fellow nominees. The butterflies in my stomach begin again and I can barely make out what the speaker is saying. All I can see is my book cover that features a young girl with skin the color of cedar wood, wearing an afro puff next to her golden retriever, Sidekick, poised to take on the world. It’s a vision that first took over my imagination at the tender age of thirteen when I was in a very dark place. Years later, it’s being embraced by some of the most renowned figures in literature. Who would have thought? The image before me blurs as my eyes water and all sounds drift to the background.

  “That’s you, doll,” Jeremy says excitedly.

  I hear his deep whisper in my ear. Blinking a few times, I look over at the shit-eating grin on his face as he claps. “Wh-what?”

  �
�You won!”

  My eyes bulge as his words sink in. I look around the table and see Coral, Stacey, Liam, and Andre on their feet, applauding. All eyes are on me. Before I can fully comprehend the situation, Camille is standing to my right and Jeremy is up on his feet, helping me out of my chair. I take a deep breath to calm my scattered nerves at the precise moment Jeremy squeezes my arm and plants a kiss on my cheek. It’s quick, but gives me the bolster of reassurance I need in this moment to go up and accept my award. On wobbly legs, I make my way to the podium and accept the heavy crystal statuette with my pen name and title of my book engraved on the sterling silver name plate. I stare at it for a few seconds, allowing this moment to sink in before I turn to the audience to begin my speech. I place the award on top of the podium, I pull out the note cards I jotted down some acknowledgements on, in case I won, but now those notes seem lacking. I look out onto the sea of expectant eyes and feel the usual nervousness that creeps in whenever I’m around a crowd of people I don’t know. Scanning the audience, I recognize a number of literary heavyweights and begin to feel out of place. That is, until my eyes collide with his. They’re glistening with pride mixed with a hint of cockiness that tells me he knew I would win. Even from where I’m standing, his presence is enough to center me. I take another deep breath.

  “You know, if the literary world liked my books so much why on earth would they punish me by making me give a speech? I’m a writer, not a public speaker.” I grin as the audience laughs at my nervous quip. “But in all seriousness, I, ah, I began writing stories at the age of nine. My love of reading spurned my own desire to create a world where I felt less weak, less vulnerable, and more like I belonged. The real world around me wasn’t very welcoming to a girl from one of the poorest neighborhoods in this very city, who loved reading science fiction. But even in those stories, it was often difficult to see someone who looked like me until I picked up my first comic book with an image of Storm on the cover. I remember that feeling of finding a story with a character who looked like me, save for the white hair.” I grin and the audience laughs again. “I first thought of Danica’s story well over a decade ago at a very, very dark place in my life.” I pause, looking toward Jeremy for reassurance. Sure enough, his eyes are planted on me, encouraging me. I shift my gaze to see Coral who has tears in her eyes and before I know it, I have to quickly wipe away tears that escape my own eyes. Clearing my throat, I continue. “There were many days I wasn’t sure if I’d live to see the next one or if I even wanted to. No thirteen-year-old should ever feel that way. I know that now, but back then all I had were my made-up stories. I truly believe it was the possibility of being able to get this story out on paper one day that kept me going. That faith and perseverance is what I wanted to give to little girls through publishing Danica’s Travels. They needed to know that you can survive and make the world around you a better place. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Danica and thankfully, for an older sister who never gave up on me when I needed her the most.” Now I pause to see Coral actually crying. “I want to thank my sister, Coral and my other sister, Stacey, for accepting me.” I toss Stacey a wink and she also has tears in her eyes. “Thank you to the counselors and workers at Helping Hands who helped me rebuild my life after tragedy and my bad-ass agent, Camille, whose belief and commitment to making room for diverse books in the literary world may be even stronger than mine.” I grin, looking at Camille who is beaming. “I’ll never forget how adamant you were and how hard you worked to get Danica’s story into the readers’ hands, or how you refused to let any aspect of her be changed to appeal to mainstream audiences,” I say looking directly at her. “And to the man I came here with tonight…” I pause and inhale deeply, looking at Jeremy. Once again, my vision blurs. “In the short time I’ve known you, you have made me a better writer, a better friend, and a better person. I don’t know what the future has in store for us, but I will thank God for every day I’ve have been blessed to have you in my life.” I quickly wipe more tears from my eyes.

 

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