Know Your Place

by Shelly Ellis

  But worse than Derrick’s punches were the words he’d thrown at Jamal. The names hadn’t hurt, but his accusations had. He’d said that Jamal could never own up to his own shit, that he’d always run away and left him and Ricky to fight his battles for him. The sad part was it was all true. Jamal had done it their entire friendship—hid behind his friends. And it wasn’t until recently, until an innocent man had actually been murdered, that he’d finally owned up to his role in the chaos and took control of his life. But it didn’t change the past. That didn’t change everything he’d done. His bruised nose and busted lip were a physical reminder of that.

  “Okay, I’ve got the peroxide and unearthed some cotton balls,” Melissa called out as she strolled back into her living room, holding a plastic bag and a bottle aloft. She gave him a dimpled grin. “We’re in business!”

  He wondered how she was doing, how she could be all smiles now when she had been sobbing and slapping around her ex less than an hour ago. He wanted to ask her but was wary of what she might say, of what other truths might come out.

  Jamal watched as she sat down beside him and ripped open the bag before twisting off the lid of the bottle. She then doused a few of the cotton balls with peroxide.

  “Where’s Brownie?” he asked, looking around the living room floor, searching for her cat.

  “Locked in my bedroom. I didn’t want him to bother us,” she said as she dabbed at his split lip. “I’m sorry, by the way. About . . . you know, what happened tonight. You handled it well though,” she said as she began to dab at his split lip.

  “Doesn’t feel like it,” he muttered.

  “You could’ve had Dee arrested and you didn’t. You didn’t hit him back either.”

  “Yeah, well”—he shrugged—“I didn’t have to. You fought that battle for me. I’m a punk-ass nigga, remember?”

  She paused. Her face fell. “I didn’t fight your battle and you’re not a punk-ass nigga. Don’t say that.”

  Sweet, encouraging words from a sweet, encouraging woman. He’d expected as much from her—the babying and the pity. She was doing exactly what Derrick said she would do.

  “Thanks, Lissa, but I’ve got it, okay?” he said tightly as she began to dab at his lip with the cotton ball again.

  “Almost done,” she said, ignoring him. She sounded a lot like his mother had back in the day when he’d fallen and scraped his knee as a little boy. “Just hold still,” she murmured, still dabbing.

  “I said I’ve got it!” he nearly shouted. “Damn!” He pulled his head back.

  “What?” she asked, lowering the cotton ball from his mouth. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing! It’s just . . . I can do this myself. I said that about a hundred times! I can take care of myself. I don’t need your pity. Okay?” he snapped, regretting the word even as it tumbled from his bloody lips.

  “I wasn’t pitying you, Jay.” She sat back, sounding and looking hurt. “I was just trying to help.”

  That’s not what Derrick said, he thought bitterly.

  “What? Seriously, what the hell is wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked, frowning.

  “Nothin’.” He shook his head and rose to his feet. He reached for his suit jacket, yanking it from the sofa arm. “Nothin’. It’s just . . . late. It’s been an exhausting, shitty night. I should head home. Thanks for inviting me to that banquet. I’m sorry the night turned out the way it did.”

  He began to walk out of her living room.

  “Jay, come on, don’t leave! Talk to me!” She shot to her feet. “What’s wrong? It’s like you’re mad at me or somethin’. Is it about what happened with Dee? You blame me for that?”

  He hesitated, unsure if he even wanted to bring up what he was feeling, the doubts he was having. Derrick had intended his words to be as powerful as his jab. He had wanted to hurt Jamal by saying what Melissa really felt about him, but that didn’t mean what he’d said wasn’t the truth. It didn’t mean she hadn’t felt that way about Jamal all along.

  “I don’t blame you,” he muttered tiredly. “That shit between Dee and me would have existed regardless of you.”

  “But I made it worse, right? Because I told him what happened in December? Because he saw us together?”

  “He saw us together, but his reaction was out of line. I told you . . . it’s not your fault. You and I know there’s nothing going on between us. You don’t feel anything for me.”

  Not even friendship. He had at least thought she felt that, but it turned out he was wrong there too.

  She squinted. “Why do you keep saying that stuff? Why do you keep putting yourself down like that? I never said—”

  “Because it’s true! You don’t feel anything for me. You pity me! That’s the only fucking reason why you even started talking to me again. Right? Even Derrick said it.”

  Her shoulders sank. “So that’s why you’re acting like this? Dee gets drunk and talks shit, and you actually believe him?”

  “Why shouldn’t I believe him? That night that I kissed you, you said it yourself! Time passed. Dee broke your heart, so you weren’t as angry with me anymore. I was lost and without any real friends or a tether, and you wanted to help me out. That’s all it was! It’s okay to admit that, Lissa.”

  “You really think that’s it? That you were lost and I felt sorry for you?” She tossed the bloody cotton ball on her coffee table in frustration. “I’m so tired of this shit. I’m so tired of the both of you. I swear to God! He’s a selfish piece of shit, and you are fucking clueless!”

  Jamal stared at her, confused by her outburst. Maybe he was as clueless as she said, because he didn’t understand all this anger.

  “I didn’t start hanging out with you because I felt sorry for you, Jay. I did it because I connected with you! You, of all people, understood what I was going through. You’d seen my relationship with Derrick from the beginning, and you’d damn near broken up with him yourself. I turned to you not out of pity or sympathy or any of that shit, but because. . . because I needed you.” She lowered her eyes and fisted the front of her gown in her hands. “And now that I know he’s back with that bitch and it’s finally, finally settled in that it’s really over with Dee, I . . . I need you even more. So there you go. I’m . . . I’m the one without a tether. I’m the one who needs help, not you.” She slowly raised her eyes. When she did, he could see there were tears in them. “Because I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m so confused now . . . and angry and hurt. I thought I was better. I thought I had . . . had moved on! I just . . . I just don’t know what to do.”

  He didn’t know either. He felt helpless too.

  “I need you, Jay. I know it sounds selfish. I know I’m asking a lot considering what you went through tonight . . . what you’ve been going through for months, but I need . . . I need you.”

  She stopped twisting the fabric of her dress, but she still looked vulnerable. He hadn’t considered that tonight had knocked her off kilter too, that she was the one who felt lost.

  “Please . . . please don’t leave. Not yet. Please? I won’t . . .”

  She broke into tears before she could finish, and he crossed the short expanse between them and held her close. Despite wanting to leave only a minute ago, Jamal quickly settled into the idea of staying the night, and sleeping on the couch if Melissa wanted him to. If she didn’t want to be alone with her thoughts and her heartache, he would keep her company. When she tilted back her head, he was prepared for her to ask him to do just that, but he wasn’t prepared when she brought her lips to his.

  Jamal was so caught off guard by the kiss that he almost pulled his head back in shock. It had to have been an accident. Something they would both laugh about later. But when she moved her warm mouth against his, he realized it was no accident. He drew her closer and let it deepen, wrestling his tongue with hers. He could taste her tears and the dried blood on his wounded lip. He could hear the blood surge in his ears and swore he could even feel th
e rapid thump of his heart in his chest. He could feel his budding erection and wondered if she could feel it too, pressing urgently against her thighs. She must have, because she reached down and rubbed her hand over his groin, over and over, as they kissed, taking him from half-mast to rock hard.

  “I need you, Jay,” she whispered plaintively against his lips.

  This time he knew what she really meant. What she was really asking, and it was like someone had flicked a match and dropped it into a pool of gasoline. Whatever desire he had been holding back all these months, all these years, caught aflame at that moment.

  He lowered the zipper of her gown before tugging the straps off her shoulders. She stepped back and shimmied the top of her gown to her waist, revealing the strapless black lace bra underneath, while he removed his belt and lowered the zipper of his slacks.

  Their movements were frenzied and panicked, as though they were on a stop clock, like they didn’t want to slow down or stop and consider what they were doing, what they were about to do. And the truth was, they didn’t.

  Jamal didn’t want to consider that maybe this was just revenge sex for Melissa. What greater retaliation could she take against a cheating ex than by fucking his former best friend? He didn’t want to consider that she was just doing this out of pain and misery and might regret everything in the morning. He just wanted to live for the here and now, and he suspected Melissa did too.

  He removed her bra, tossed it to the living room floor, and began to fondle her breasts just as he brought his mouth back to hers. She moaned against his lips, eased back onto the sofa arm, and spread her legs wide. She placed her hands on the small of his back and drew him between her thighs. Jamal removed one hand from her breast, eased up the hem of her gown, and pushed aside the crotch of her thong. He fondled her between the thighs as they kissed, as he licked and sucked her neck and she nibbled his earlobe, making her moan even louder. Hearing those moans, feeling her wetness against his fingertips, he couldn’t wait any longer, though he wanted to lengthen the moment as much as possible.

  This could be a one-time deal. They could have sex once and never have it again. In the morning, he’d put on his clothes, walk out the door, and they’d see each other the next day and pretend like it had never happened. He could see it even now, meeting up and laughing over coffee, pretending like he hadn’t run his thumbs over her nipples or she hadn’t shoved her hand into his boxers and wrapped her hand around his dick, stroking him as she kissed him, making him groan. She’d go back to being his buddy Lissa, and he’d go back to just being her boy Jay, but tonight they would be more to each other—a lot more.

  Because the moment might be fleeting, he committed everything to memory: the look of her, the feel of her, the quietness of the living room. He made his own mental snapshot before he pushed down his pants and boxer briefs to his knees and entered her with one swift stroke that made her cry out, almost in shock.

  Their coupling was fast, ardent, and loud, with neither holding back. She bucked her hips, almost falling off the sofa arm trying to meet him stroke for stroke. He plunged inside her over and over again, holding himself and her steady by bracing one hand against the nearby living room wall and the other on the back of the sofa. This wasn’t just sex or a casual encounter. There was more here, some deep well of emotions they were pulling from and pouring into each other with their bodies.

  “Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God!” she panted against his ear.

  When she came, she clawed at his back and shouted out. It sounded almost like a whimper. He screamed her name, then felt his body convulse before he collapsed against her and they both went tumbling back onto the sofa cushions. They lay there for several minutes, catching their breath.

  * * *

  “This may be a bad time for me to ask this but . . . you’re on the pill, right?” Jamal whispered as he fluffed the pillow behind his head.

  Melissa had just pulled back the bedspread and was about to climb in naked beside him, but paused and cocked an eyebrow at his question.

  It turned out that he was indeed spending the night at her place, but not on the couch. After they had made love, she led him down the hall to her bedroom, kicking poor Brownie out into the hall. Even now, Jamal could hear the cat plaintively meowing on the other side of the door.

  He had watched in the low light from her lamp on the night table as she’d finished undressing, peeling away the rest of the clothes that he had started to remove only thirty minutes ago, but had stopped when they got caught up in the moment.

  Jamal had let his eyes lazily travel over her body as she took off her gown and panties, appreciating every glorious inch and luscious curve. His gaze had fallen on her full breasts and dark nipples, then her flat stomach and her concave navel. When she’d turned around to remove her earrings and place them on her dresser, his eyes rested on the indentation along her lower back and her plump rear end that had a mole on the left cheek. He’d traced the path of her round thighs that had a faint hint of dimples at the back of them. As she’d crawled toward him across the mattress, his gaze had rested on the light triangle of hair between her thighs, a visual reminder that he knew what she felt like on the inside.

  Jamal had never thought he’d ever get to see Melissa naked. He had never thought they’d be lying naked in bed together. He had fantasized about it. Hell, he’d dreamed about it a few times in his childhood. But he didn’t think it would actually happen—not in a million years. But here they were.

  “I have an IUD,” she said, her lips curving into a smile that brought that dimple that he loved to her right cheek.

  He breathed an inward sigh of relief. Good, he thought, then he hadn’t got her pregnant tonight. They didn’t need that complication and he didn’t want to put any more burdens on her.

  She climbed onto the mattress and sank beneath the sheets and quilted comforter. He could feel the warmth radiating off of her body like a floor heater, and he instinctively drew closer to her, seeking that warmth.

  “What about you?” she asked, resting her elbow on her pillow, reclining on her side. “If we’re gonna start asking awkward questions, got any diseases that I should know about?”

  He quickly shook his head. “Hell no! Well . . .” He hesitated. “None that I know of.”

  Her smile disappeared. Her eyebrow shot up again. “None that you know of?”

  “I mean . . . I got checked out a few months ago and nothing popped up,” he assured her. “So I bet everything’s okay. Nothing for you to worry about.”

  After his spate of one-night stands he’d thought it would be smart to go to the doc and get checked out. Though he hadn’t used one tonight, he’d used condoms for all of those other encounters, but one could never be too sure. He’d been relieved when the nurse had called him back saying that he didn’t test positive for any STDs.

  “That’s good,” Melissa now said as she reached out and cupped his face. “But we should probably use a condom next time to be on the safe side.”

  He blinked in surprise. “Next time?”

  So this wasn’t a one-night-only thing? She didn’t have sex with him as some temporary salve to ease her pain or to get back at Derrick?

  “What? You didn’t want there to be a next time?” She burst out laughing. “Was the sex that bad?”

  “No! No, it was good—real good.”

  “Yeah, I thought so too,” she said, running her thumb gently along his cheek, gazing into his eyes.

  “I . . . I just thought . . .”

  “You just thought what, Jay?”

  “Never mind. That came out wrong. I wanna have sex with you again. I’d love to have sex with you again.”

  She laughed, making him realize how overeager he sounded.

  “B-but it’s not like I’d just be focused on sex. I mean I’m not obsessed with it. I really like—”

  “Shhhh,” she whispered, cutting off his nervous rambling. She leaned forward and kissed him.

  The kiss was swee
t and tender and he wanted even more of it, but she pulled back, smirked, and turned her back to him. She turned off the lamp. “Goodnight, Jay.”

  “’Night, Lissa,” he whispered to the back of her neck, before frowning at the red silk cap she was wearing that was inches from his face. “What is this on your head, by the way?”

  “It’s a bonnet,” she called back to him sleepily in the dark. “Why?”

  He frowned. There was a long pause.

  “You’re telling me you haven’t seen a silk bonnet? I wear it to protect my hair at night.”

  “My mom used to wear one, I think.”

  She chuckled. “You’ve been hooking up with too many white girls, Jay. Welcome back to the land of bonnets, head wraps, and scarves, homie.”

  He burst into laughter and wrapped an arm around her waist. “I love you,” he gushed almost drunkenly and kissed the back of her neck, making her laugh too. Because he did. He was drunk in love with her right now and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. He loved Melissa and this moment and he would probably die happy if his life ended today.

  She didn’t say she loved him back but he felt her clasp his hand, intertwining her fingers with his, making him smile. After a few minutes, they both fell asleep.

  Chapter 29

  Ricky

  The hour-and-forty-five-minute drive to Simone’s place in Virginia seemed to crawl at a snail’s pace, even though Ricky drove at high speed the entire way, whipping around cars and running the occasional red light. He waited for the police to stop him, to see flashing lights in his rearview mirror and hear the blare of sirens, but no one pulled him over. He kept driving and the whole time his heart was racing. The steering wheel became slick with sweat from his palms. He tried more than once to call Simone as he drove, but never reached her. His calls kept going to voice mail.