Keeping You: KJ Elite Inc.

by Kracek, L. K.

  The floor down the main hall and up the stairs were stained oak white which worked perfect with Diesel’s nails always leaving white marks on his most traveled routes; no one could tell he’d been there – unless I’d forgotten to sweep his mile high pile of hair out of the corners and along the baseboard.

  The hallway spanned from the front door to the back of the house, double the width of a typical hallway; four doors were set off, two on each side.

  My supposed office was the first room to the right when you walked in and basically held a few books, some pictures and a bare desk. I didn’t even have a lamp on it – I never used this room. By the looks of it, Luke had set up his PC and what not since I had been gone. At least the room was getting some use.

  The room on the left was an open dining room that led to the large, spacious kitchen.

  Between the first two sets of doors, down the middle of the hallway, were French doors that as far as I could tell held absolutely no purpose; they stayed open always. Beyond the doors was a half-guest bathroom to the right and a small closet to the left. The hall ended when it opened up to the large family room that housed the only television, if you didn’t count my computer screen in the office, in the whole house. Ma said I would want a family room for everyone to gather with easy access to the deck and backyard but would want a formal living area which was oddly enough, upstairs.

  I’d learned long ago not to ask any questions. I just stand there smiling, nodding my head.

  Taking the first left, I shuffle over the painted wooden floors done in a distressed mint green color. I actually loved that; the color was different and not as common as natural wood floors were.

  In the center of the kitchen sat a long bar/island that was multi-level. The bar was higher and the second half was lower with a farmhouse sink and large cutting board to the right.

  My cabinets were all white with silver handles and white appliances.

  Where Tommy’s kitchen boasted double ovens, I just needed the one. I never used it though – not once. No, I was a microwave chef and a damn good one. You wanted a frozen beef burrito and I was your guy. Not to brag, but I was also pretty handy with a toaster too; I heated a mean toaster struddle.

  I had a built in desk between the wall of kitchen cabinets where ma and Mrs. V said my kids could do their homework while my wife cooked. I didn’t have the heart to tell them I’d never give them grandkids. It just wasn’t in the stars for someone as fucked up as me. Probably better that way. Plus, I’m pretty sure you have to have a woman before you can line up having kids.

  I’d be a hell of an uncle though. I kept trying to tell that to Taylor but she just smacked me when I brought it up.

  I head into the kitchen to stare into the fridge I already know is pretty bare; usually there’s only protein bars or enough ingredients to mix up a protein shake. I’m real high maintenance like that.

  With a quick grab at the carton or orange juice and a handful of peanut butter cookies – okay, so I wasn’t totally healthy – I turn on my heel, kicking the fridge door shut and seek out my oh so beautiful shower.

  She’s calling to me, urging me to come touch her all over.

  Taking the staircase which is located behind the kitchen, up to my bedroom, I go straight for the bathroom. I hit the shower on, setting it to full blown Antarctica. Something has got to get rid of this…all the fucking time, wood. It’s a Jamie-only induced wood, but I can’t really walk around calling it that. While the water gets as cold as it possibly can, I meander over to my bedside and feed my little turtles and fish. They’re very small tanks because quite frankly I can’t handle much else without it going belly up in 24 hours – 48 max.

  After twenty minutes and three insane releases later, I’m pretty sure I’m bionic and convinced that nothing is going to get rid of this perma-boner Jamie has created. I’ve never been so hard after kissing or even thinking of a woman. Any other woman and I’d go screw some random chick to get it over with; not quite so easy with Jamie. I couldn’t look at another woman the way I’ve been looking at Jamie, not since she became a part of my life, and I certainly couldn’t set her up on my lap.

  Looking at that tall drink of water the wrong way was likely to turn Taylor psychotic and go all Lorena Bobbitt on my ass… or dick rather.

  After practically having to crawl my way out of the shower, I set myself up in my recliner for a few hours; I stared blankly at the flat screen while God-only-knows-what played. A quick glance at my watch told me it was 0300. That ought to be a safe time to go check on her; I’m hoping she’s sleeping peacefully, and completely covered. Better yet, here is to hoping Matt has her under lock and key where I can’t put my mitts on her – ever.

  Fuck, I’m so screwed.

  * * *

  “Come here you little bitch and give daddy’s friends some love.” A rough, sweaty, bear paw swiped at me. I was hiding under the clothes and piles of shoes I’d made a wall out of, in the back corner of the only closet in this disgusting dump of a home.

  I kept praying that if I don’t answer him or make a peep, something else will distract him and he’ll give up on me. He’s bothered me enough today and I might puke on him. It would serve him right but then I’d have to clean it up and be punished for it, too.

  His hand disappears and I edge forward to see if he’s standing there still. A loud shriek escapes my mouth unwillingly, automatically when he yanks me up by my hair; out of the closet, dragging me into the rat infested hallway, down to the living room. Two big men, one white and one Hispanic looking were standing there leering at me.

  “No!” I yelled, kicking and screaming; tears rolling down my dirty cheeks. “Leave me alone!”

  He stopped to tighten his grip on my hair they had bleached a horrendous yellow white and to kick me; his foot connected with my ribs.

  I felt one crack and breathing suddenly became painful.

  The men laughed and the Hispanic one murmured, “Serves the little cunt right.”

  While he laughed, I noticed a tick in the jaw of the white man. It seemed so odd but I wasn’t really in a position to ask questions or make demands.

  My sperm donor dropped me at their feet, still holding to my hair. In a delicate manner, he swiped the hair off of my face then proceeded to back hand me a handful of times while shouting the rules at me.

  “Don’t yell. Don’t backtalk. Don’t make me punish you. Make the nice men happy. Do what you’re good for.”

  The white man grabbed his elbow before he could hit me again and stage whispered, “Hey man, do what you gotta do, but don’t go breaking the merchandise. I want a nice clean face for what I have in mind.” He winked at me and my stomach churned. Though my sperm donor – I never called him my father or dad – hit me with fury and was unrelenting, I was trained not to squirm or flinch.

  “Fucking deserve it.” He always said.

  The Hispanic reached down and fondled my chest, licking his lips.

  I closed my eyes and pretended I was at the Doctor’s office, being checked. I had read that Doctors were supposed to check you for breast cancer. Reading was the only thing I found a passion for but the crack whore wasn’t going to buy me any books so I read what I could, where I could. School was optional as far as the sperm donor was concerned so often times he “scheduled” me.

  “Stand up, girl.” The white man demanded, a growl in his voice.

  “Yes, sir.” I answered, no defiance in my tone.

  Even taking hurt badly.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Whatever you want it to be.” It was the answer he beat into me; I never gave my real name – or his.

  The whore was in the back corner of the living room sucking on some man’s dick while he sniffed cocaine off a dinner plate. Pausing only to take a couple five lines herself, she eyed the white man then me, and back to him before proceeding with her other favorite past time.

  This was where I was raised – Brownsville projects, Brooklyn, New York.
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  “You’re going to go with this fine man here-” the sperm donor said, pointing to the white man, and continued, “Then tomorrow night, you’re all his.”

  The Hispanic man whistled lowly and squeezed my butt really hard.

  I nodded and lowered my head again. Arguing would get me nowhere right now. Instead, I block out the rest of what he has to say and continue planning the different ways I’ll make him suffer before I slit his throat.

  “Let’s get moving, girl.” The white man said, grabbing my upper arm and yanking me to the door.

  “Yes, sir.”

  The sperm donor releases my hair and clears his throat.

  “Forgetting something?”

  “Oh, yeah. How much, again?”

  “I’ll cut you a deal. 12 hours for only $200.”

  That’s how much I meant to this waste of space. Two hundred dollars to have God knows what done to me for half a day. I died a little more on the inside and swallowed back the tears.

  We walked out the door after the white man paid him the money. He loosened his grip on my hand and stopped when we left the building.

  “What’s your name, baby?” I hear something new in his voice; something deep and rugged, but twangy.

  “I already told you – whatever you…” He holds his hand up to stop me then proceeds to light up a Marlboro.

  “Your real name.”

  I don’t know what it was, but something about him made me feel safe. For some people they might struggle to place the emotion when drowning in toxic waste like I was, but since I had never felt safe, I knew exactly what it was.

  He raised his hand again and I fought the urge to pull back.

  Instead of touching me, he ran it through his chestnut colored hair that was peppered with black and white.

  “Jamie.”

  “That’s what I washoping.” A brilliant smile lit his face while deep dimples graced his cheeks.

  “My name is Nolan. Folks call me No for short. I’ve earned the nickname in more ways than one, baby.”

  “Why - why are you telling me this?” I asked hesitantly.

  “I’m here looking for you, little one. You’re safe, now. I swear to you, from this day on, no one will hurt you again. Not if I have anything to say about it. No more grabbing or kicking or hitting. You’re going to get the life a girl as perfect as you deserves.”

  You’re safe, now.

  Those words didn’t really sink in, not until the squad of men ran past us; up, into the building, decked out in military protective gear, a long line of military men climbed the stairs silently.

  First it was the bangs, then it was the screams and gunfire that made me turn away with a wicked smile on my face; I hoped they all died painfully.

  I awoke from my half-asleep, partial dream. It was one of my strongest memories that usually only came when I let my defenses down enough to sleep. A warm hand was on my shoulder, shaking me.

  “You alright, sugar?”

  I smiled, cheered up by the memory.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. It seemed like a big one so I wanted to wake you in case it was bad.”

  It was big alright but it wasn’t bad. No, it wasn’t bad at all.

  “I was remembering the night I was visited by an angel.”

  His eyebrow lifted in curiosity but he bit his tongue.

  I looked him up and down, taking in his baggy grey sweat pants and fitted white tee. The sweats hung low on his hips while the t-shirt hugged every delicious curve of his upper body.

  That was the only dream or memory that ever put me in a good mood – giddy even.

  As morbid as it was, it was the night my… it was the night they died.

  “I…” Should I tell him? The only person who knew it all was Nolan. My guardian who swooped in, took me away and lived only long enough to see me run to safety. That was the only part of the whole event that broke me down.

  “It’s okay. I don’t have to know.” Noah held his hands up in surrender. He had retreated to the far corner of the room where Matt had sat earlier.

  “I was remembering my twelfth birthday.”

  Noah’s face pinched like he knew something.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “For what? It was the best birthday I ever had. Even now.”

  “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. And I’m sorry for your loss.”

  I took a deep breath and situated myself into a more comfortable position, laying on my left side.

  “Thank you?”

  We both knew it wasn’t a question but how do you reply to that?

  “Try and get some more sleep. I’ll be here.”

  Diesel was lying on the bed beside the chair and snored loudly.

  “So you’ve read the file, then?”

  Of course he had – Luke was his brother and these guys ran a very high class, higher rated business.

  He just nodded.

  I patted the bed beside me and pulled the covers back.

  “Can you come sit with me? The dream typically puts me in a fantastic mood, but it also has me weary. The ending, you know.”

  He hesitated for quite some time before gliding slowly over to the bedside and sitting; his back to me, breathing ragged.

  “Have you been running?” I asked, nervous.

  “Are you sure I won’t spook you? I have to know.”

  “I’m sure.” I was feeling very bold.

  Lying beside him earlier was very relaxing and even lit a fire I never knew sat in my loins.

  With his house shoes still on, he pulled the blankets back up and laid on top of them.

  “Won’t you get cold?”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you upset with me?”

  Damnit, I never should have kissed him. Now he probably, definitely thinks I’m insane and will never look at me again.

  Noah clenched and unclenched is teeth.

  “I’m sorry.” I spat, shaking my head.

  “Don’t ever apologize to me, Jamie.”

  “Well, what else am I supposed to do?”

  “Let me hold you?”

  The nervousness, the pleading in his question simply melted me. Good thing I was under the covers or he would surely see what he was doing to my body as I clenched my thighs together.

  “Okay.” I stuttered a bit but only because I had never cuddled with anyone.

  Noah rolled to face me and then rolled me over before spooning into my backside.

  Holy.freaking.frack.sticks.

  The man had an anaconda in his pants and it was pushed right up against my butt.

  My body took over as if it knew what to do and wiggled against his firmness.

  “Shit, sugar. Stop moving or I’ll soak the blanket.”

  He wasn’t the only one. I was practically dripping down below.

  Thank God for Cosmo asking me to pose on the cover; I had subscribed and have never missed an issue. I might not be having sex, but I sure knew all about it. Or mostly.

  I knew enough to know that the baseball bat rubbing up against me was all for me.

  After everything I’ve gone through, this should scare the living crap out of me. Why did this not scare the living crap out of me?

  I wiggled again, completely on purpose this time, stifling a giggle.

  “Jamie.” He reprimanded, tightening his hold on my waist.

  “Did I do something wrong?”

  “You know what you’re doing, sugar and if you keep pushing I can’t promise I’ll stop once we’ve started.”

  It was a flat out, up front, totally honest warning.

  Those were the kind my terrible curiosity ignored.

  What was the phrase?

  Oh yes, “Ruh roh Raggy.”

  I rolled over onto my back; I’ve got to see the storm building in his eyes.

  There it was. The midnight blue swirling and churning into a deadly storm that was going to swallow me whole. I welcomed it.

  Reaching out t
o caress his cheek, I closed them just as I brushed my lips against his, savoring the feel of being wrapped up in his body.

  “Sugar, you’re playing with fire.”

  “Let’s see how hot it burns.”

  Horny was apparently very good on me.

  Our lips moved against one another before he slammed his mouth down onto mine, tangling one hand into my hair, pulling me atop him.

  I moaned into his mouth, leaving an entrance for his tongue to slip right in. He stroked my tongue with his. The swirling and the heat; the spearmint and tobacco mixed with my toothpaste fogging my mind. I inhaled his scent, swallowed it and craved more; craved it all.

  Noah used his free hand to palm my ass, grinding me against him, eliciting a loud gasp from my mouth.

  “Do you see what you do to me?” He panted before taking my mouth again.

  There were no words forming for me to respond.

  Noah flipped us over so he was hovering above me, supporting his weight so he didn’t crush me.

  I slipped my hands under his t-shirt to trace the lines of muscles, memorizing every single mouth-watering inch. This was quickly turning into a memory I could use to combat all the wretched ones that made me wake up sweaty, high-tailing it to the bathroom before getting sick. Yes, Noah was having a major impact on my state of mind. So far, it was welcome – at least, on my end it was.

  As my hands roamed higher, he ground his pelvis against mine again, making me move a hand to his ass. I pushed him into me again, needing the contact like a junkie looking for their next fix.

  Noah groaned, palming my breasts, peppering kisses on my face, neck, and chest. He nibbled my earlobe and licked down my neck, cool air on my skin.

  Noah’s phone rang, jolting him.

  The sudden absence made me feel completely empty and raw.

  It was just a message.

  He cursed harshly and took another step back.

  “Sleep.” Noah’s tone was clipped.