by J. D. Mason
Luther saw a woman he wanted, desperately needed, but couldn’t have. Terri’s pussy pulsed, and Luther lowered his face to the pillow, and methodically, slowly, eased in and out of her until time, space, reason—disappeared.
“Ohhhh—shit!” he exclaimed.
“Luther,” she called out, digging nails into his back, bringing him back to this moment.
He pushed up and looked into her eyes, concerned. “I’m hurting you?”
She nodded and pulled his face closer to hers. “Don’t stop.”
There was more than chemistry between them. More than similar backgrounds. Luther and Terri had a special connection, the kind he never even had with Ava. The kind that entwined two people deep enough to cum at the same time.
Luther stayed the night. Terri slept in his arms and he was so content with having her next to him that he didn’t move.
The savory scent of bacon woke him up the next morning. Luther slipped into his jeans and followed the aroma to the kitchen, that was surprisingly a whole lot cleaner than it had been the day before.
“Good morning,” she said, staring back at him with wide, pretty eyes. “If you plan on staying long enough for breakfast, tell me how you like your eggs.”
Luther pulled up a bar stool and leaned on the counter. “Scrambled is fine.”
She returned a timid smile. “Good. Cause that’s the only way I know how to make them.”
He laughed.
“There’s coffee,” she motioned her head to the pot next to the sink.
He had to pass her to get to it and on the way, tugged on her elbow, leaned down and kissed her good morning, like this was part of their daily routine. He wished with everything in him, that it was. But the truth revealed itself in a flash. She wasn’t his and she never would be. After breakfast, Terri told him of her plans. “I texted Nona this morning, told her that I was coming and that’d I’d be there next month.”
Luther’s heart sank at the thought of her leaving.
“She asked a bunch of questions and I told her I’d explain when I got there.”
“You selling this place?”
“Going to try to.” She shrugged. “Know anybody who might interested?”
“I’ll ask around,” he said, hoping she hadn’t missed his reluctance.
Terri was putting on a brave front, but he could tell she wasn’t okay.
“I’m just disappointed that I’m going to miss theater season,” she laughed. “And I’m going to miss Mavis and Lucy.”
“They’ll miss you too.”
She became quiet and introspective for a moment. “It did feel like home here, for a while. More than just about any other place I’ve ever lived.”
“I wish things had turned out differently, Terri. I wish I’d been the one to scoop you up and take you to the hospital the night you twisted your ankle,” he admitted, forcing a smile. “Does Nick know you’re leaving?”
Leave it to him to kill a mood, even one as short-lived as this one, but he had to know.
“I told him,” she said, tears glistening in her eyes. “And I did make it crystal clear that it was over between us.”
Relief set in, along with the certainty that Nick would come through this just fine. Of course, he wouldn’t have had to come through it fine if Luther hadn’t fucked up and ended up with Terri.
“It was never like this with him,” she tried to explain. “I liked him. I wanted it to work because he’s this great guy. Nice, funny, smart.”
Luther shifted, an uneasy feeling washing over him, talking about his son at a time like this.
Terri seemed to notice and quickly changed the subject. “Do you think you can send me a copy of the soundtrack you’re writing for the festival?”
“Absolutely,” he smiled.
“Good. I know it’ll be great.”
He leaned over and kissed her. “When the dust settles, Terri, you’re going to remember that you’re great. You don’t need some punk-ass producer to tell you that.”
She bobbed her head slightly. “I suppose. I just don’t know what I’m going to do with the rest of my life, Luther. I’ve only ever counted on one thing and it was acting.” Terri shrugged.
They finished breakfast, made slow love on the sofa, and an hour later, Luther stood at the door, hands driven deep into his pockets, dreading that this would be the last time he saw her.
“You messed me up, shorty,” he admitted, leaning against the door.
Terri smiled. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty messed up, too.”
“You’re going to be okay,” he assured her, then leaned down for a lingering kiss. “You’re gonna figure it out, and come out on the other side shining like a silver dollar.”
Terri pursed her lips together and nodded. “Maybe someday,” she sighed. “I will miss you, though.”
He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“Call me—sometimes?” she asked.
No. He never would.
Terri walked him out onto the porch and Luther turned one last time and kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him and held on—but not long enough.
“Bye, Luther,” she pushed away and stepped back.
Luther made his way to his car, but before he opened the door, all hell broke loose.
Nick’s BMW skidded to a stop in front of Terri’s house. “What the fuck!” He exclaimed, climbing out of the car and marching into the yard, glaring first at Terri, then at Luther.
“Nick,” Luther heard her say.
“This mothafucka is why you stopped seeing me?” He motioned his hand at Luther. “You’re fuckin’ him?”
Luther felt like he weighed a thousand pounds. He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.
“Mothafucka!” Nick marched toward him and lunged at Luther, landing a hard right to his father’s jaw and then a left to the side of his head.
“Nick! No!”
“Is this the kind of shit you do? Fuck for the sake of fucking no matter who it is or who you hurt?”
Bracing himself, Luther wrapped Nick up in a bear hug just as he was about to take another swing. “Hold up! Calm the fuck down!”
“Calm down?” Nick shouted, wrestling with Luther, shoving him back against the car. “You fuck my girl and— Let me go!”
“Stop!” Terri’s voice might as well have been coming from another planet, it sounded so far away. “Nick!” she appeared next to the two of them.
“Get off me,” Nick demanded, trying to jerk free of Luther’s grasp. “Get the fuck off me!”
Reluctantly, Luther let him go and pushed him back, preparing for another attack.
“Nick.” Terri’s voice shook. She placed a hand on his arm, but he jerked away from her too. “I’m—I’m so—sorry.”
“So, this is who you are?” He loomed over her. “You fuck with me then you fuck with him? Is this that Hollywood shit?”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, tears filling her eyes.
“Son, don’t,” Luther interjected, moving Terri out of the way.
Nick glared back at Luther. “Don’t? Don’t what? Lay up with the same woman as you? Is that what you mean, Pop?”
Luther lowered his head. His heart pounded. “This wasn’t— Goddamnit, son. I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah. You’re fuckin’ sorry. You’re a joke, Luther.” He stared at Terri like she was infected. “You both are.”
“We didn’t plan for this to happen,” Terri tried explaining.
Luther stood, numb, watching his son storm off, back to his car and peel away from the curb.
“Are you all right?” Terri asked, reaching for his face.
Luther swatted her hand away and climbed inside his car.
“Luther,” she said, blocking him from closing the door.
“Move, Terri.”
“I—”
“Move!”
He had to fix this. Luther had to fix this with Nick. Nothing else mattered. Nothing.
“Fuck,” he exclaimed,
enraged, slamming his hand against the steering wheel.
She hadn’t spoken to him in weeks, not since giving him that sorry ass speech about walking away from their relationship because her career meant so damn much to her. How the fuck could Nick have missed it? Every time he had ever mentioned the woman’s name to Luther, that mothafucka got all sheepish looking, pretending not to give a damn about her when the two of them had been fuckin’ the whole time.
“Fuck!” he grunted over and over again, making his way out of town.
Nick’s phone was blowing up, but he didn’t give a damn. Luther was dead to him, and Terri—
Goddamn! How in the hell did he ever let himself fall for her trifling ass? She’d played him from the beginning and Nick had been dumb enough to catch feelings. A car raced up behind him and honked. It was Luther. Nick sped up and so did he.
“Fuck it,” he growled, skidding off to the side of the road leading to the highway.
Nick was out of his car before he’d even come to a full stop.
“Son,” Luther said, getting out from behind the wheel. “I never meant to hurt you, Nick.”
The two marched toward each other, Nick with his fists curled. “Nah, you didn’t hurt me, man,” he shouted. “You fuckin’ embarrassed yourself. You humiliated yourself, Luther, and you look like a goddamn fool. But that’s what you’ve always been to me,” Nick drove his finger into Luther’s face. “A fool!”
Luther dropped his head and had the nerve to look wounded. “You’re right. I made a fool of myself and I never meant for you—”
“To find out?” Nick interrupted. “You knew, I cared about her! You and me were mending some fences, and that mattered, Luther.”
“It still matters.”
“Fuck you, man. You never gave a shit about anybody but yourself and still don’t.”
“That’s not true.”
“Bullshit. You standing there smelling like her and telling me that? Really?”
“Nick—”
Nick backed away, lowered and shook his head. “Selfish sonofabitch,” he muttered, then looked back at Luther. “I was actually starting to think I was too hard on your ass.”
“I deserve this,” Luther had the nerve to say.
His words fell on deaf ears. “No, you don’t. You don’t deserve my time or my anger, man. Never did. All those times, growing up, when I’d put your ass on a pedestal, only to end up scratching my head wondering why? What the fuck made you so goddamned special? So, you played a fuckin’ guitar while my mother was hooked to a dialysis machine three days a week. That shit didn’t make you special. A real man would’ve been there, Luther. He’d have said, fuck the road—the music and he’d have kept his ass at home.”
Luther looked away.
“She needed you. We both did. But you only showed up when it was convenient for you. When she was feeling good your ass came through like some lame ass knight in shining armor buying up big ass televisions, video games and diamonds like that shit was supposed to be enough to fill in the gaps you left because you were too damn busy doing what you wanted to do.”
Nick and his mother had both been dealt a shitty hand. They didn’t deserve Luther and he sure as hell didn’t deserve either one of them.
“You’re right,” he admitted.
“I don’t need you to tell me that. I said all this to remind myself of who you really are, because sometimes, I forget.”
“Nick, I didn’t—”
“Keep my damn name out of your mouth, Luther and go back and finishing fucking that ho. I don’t give a damn about you or her.” Nick walked back to his car. “Stay the fuck away from me,” he shouted, driving off, and glancing back at Luther through his rearview mirror for the last time.
The Water’s Edge
Two days ago, World War III erupted outside her front door. The confrontation between Nick and Luther, with Terri stuck in the middle like a zit in an ass crack, sickened her. Nick was so furious that it scared her. Of course, he had every right to be but not because Terri was his woman. She never had been. But she’d been intimate with him and with Luther. When the dust settled, she had all the faith in the world that he’d come to see that Terri wasn’t the prize that he’d lost. His relationship with Luther was that prize, but because of her, it was gone forever.
Her phone had been turned off since it happened. Terri had spent the last two days drinking, sleeping, waking up to pee, drinking some more and going back to bed. Her whole fuckin’ life had unraveled more than she’d ever thought it could—even more than it had after getting fired in Atlanta. Nothing, she thought at the time, could’ve been worse than that. She was wrong.
She was going to miss this tree. Terri managed to drag herself out of bed and take refuge underneath it for the last few hours, soothed by the gentle rustling of the leaves and the caress of its hundred-year-old shade. Louisiana Fall was starting to creep in, and Terri sat outside wearing an oversized sweater, some shorts, and house slippers that should’ve been tossed a long time ago. She’d given up on trying to latch on to any thought remotely optimistic. There was no light at the end of the tunnel. There was nothing to look forward too except leaving.
“David Randall called me,” Roxy told her this morning.
Terri groaned and rolled her eyes. “I don’t give a damn about David Randall and his silly show, Rox.”
“You’re going to be mad at me,” Roxy responded.
Terri was too numb to be mad.
Roxy continued. “He asked how you were doing,” she reluctantly stated. “And I sort of opened up to him on your behalf.”
She sighed. “Meaning?”
“He called you boring, Terri,” Roxy shot back. “I couldn’t help but to prove him wrong.”
All of a sudden, Terri felt like she wanted to puke. “What did you do, Roxy?”
“I told him about you living in Devastation, Louisiana,” she began.
Terri instinctively knew that, that wasn’t all she’d told him.
“And I mentioned a little bit about a love triangle,” she added.
“Roxy,” Terri groaned.
“His eyes lit up, Terri. Girl, I know, I know probably overstepped my bounds—”
“Probably? Are you serious? You had no right—”
“I know, but he damn near shit his self, he was so excited. And when I mentioned the movie role and audition and all the shit—”
“You— Why? Why would you humiliate me to that moron? What makes you think I want to impress him?”
“Because now he wants to offer you your own show, T,” Roxy hastily admitted. “Your show. Just you, and I think it’d be a great way to build fire for your brand, Terri. I think that roles will come pouring in if you’d just—”
Terri hung before Roxy finished.
The absurdity of it all wasn’t lost on her.
Nick and Luther. Nick and Luther. Nick and Luther? Reality television. Roles offered then snatched away— How the hell did she end up like this? It was as if someone else had lassoed her brain, her common sense, and rode off with it, leaving the rest of her dumbass behind scratching her empty head, bewildered, battered, bruised, and humiliated.
Nick’s face flashed in her mind every time she closed her eyes. That look of utter revulsion left her feeling like something slithering out from underneath a rock. Terri felt dirty and stupid, like she had had no control over her mind or her body. Every time Luther was within a foot of her, all she wanted to do was wrap her legs around the man, even when she had convinced herself that wasn’t the case. But it was. It had always been the case. No matter how hard she tried to make it make sense in her mind, or tried justifying it, nothing she told herself felt true. She’d wanted Luther more than she’d ever wanted Nick. Period.
“There you are.”
Terri gagged a little at the sight of Lanette appearing in her back yard.
“I knocked,” she said, coming over and sitting, uninvited, by Terri. “But you didn’t answer. You never do. Sinc
e your car was here, I knew you were home. You’ve been hiding inside like a hermit for the last month. What compelled you to come outside and breathe the free air?”
She hadn’t seen or heard from Lanette since the day she’d picked her up from the hospital, and she hadn’t wanted to.
“What do you want?” Terri asked with the kind of acidity that could burn through metal.
Gone was any empathy she had for the woman. Terri was a husk of her former self, so things like concern for her fellow neighbors had dried up and blown away in the wind.
Long, silky strands of sandy, blond hair, framed her narrow face. She looked like she’d disguised herself to keep Terri from recognizing her. Terri had been avoiding her from the moment she closed on this house.
Lanette wore a jean jacket over a maxi dress, with a pair of really cute cowboy booties that Terri coveted, even in her current state.
“You know everybody’s talking,” Lanette stated.
No. Terri was not putting up with this woman’s nonsense today. “Go home, Lanette.”
Lanette cast a side eye glance at Terri. “Ronetta Drake saw Luther and Nick pull away from your house a day ago. ‘Nick looked pissed,’ she said. Luther followed him. Ronetta followed them both, but I don’t think they saw her, because they were too busy fighting.”
“Go home,” Terri repeated, gritting her teeth.
“People talk about me all the time,” Lanette continued.
Was Terri invisible? Was this lunatic really that daft? “Lanette—”
“It’s a small town, so other people’s drama has a way of being seen like looking under a magnifying glass. Of course, whatever went on here, and I can only speculate,” she grinned, “must’ve been some juicy shit for those two to go at it the way Ronetta said they did. Which one did you fuck?”
“Are you insane?” Terri blurted out, glaring at Lanette who seemed like she was in another world.
“What?” Lanette asked, looking Terri square in the eyes.
“You heard me. Are—you—crazy?”
Lanette looked away, her lips quivered and tears filled her eyes. “I believe so, Terri,” she sadly admitted. “I believe I must be. You think I am?”