by Jewel Geffen
“His name's Tyson. Borough lieutenant for the Death-heads. One of their top men.”
“Top men?” she parroted nervously back.
“Yeah. If he's doing this personally, that means we've touched a nerve. Someone must have seen us at that party with Skulls.”
“I don't get it, though? Why should that matter? We were just going to a party, how could they know why we were there?”
Jordan looked away. He took a deep breath and, when he spoke, it was hesitant. “I... have a history. In that world.”
She scoffed. “World, what world? What are you talking about, Jordan?”
He took a deep breath, and he sat back a little. “I didn't want to tell you about this. I guess... I guess I didn't really want you to know about it.”
She reached up and touched his shoulder. “No matter what it is, Jordan, it doesn't matter. I love you. I've seen the kind of man you are. I can feel it in my heart. Nothing could make me think less of you.”
He sighed, and he rolled up his sleeve. He turned his arm over and touched the finger of his other hand to a spot just on the inside of his arm. She hadn't seen it before, in a dimly lit confines of the car where they'd made love, but she saw it now. Black lines tracing over his dark brown skin. A snake's head, a cobra reared back and ready to strike.
She reached out and felt it, feeling drawn to do so by some compulsion she couldn't name. She flinched back as her fingers touched the ink, as if the snake might come to life and bite her.
“I was in a gang,” he explained. “The Serpents. We were small time. Less than a hundred guys. But we made a name for ourselves. We were just kids. Desperate, hungry. Angry at the world, angry at white society, angry at other black people. Angry at the rich, angry at the poor. We hated everything, and we just wanted to drag ourselves to the top of the pile, no matter what it cost.”
She nodded slowly, stunned at the revelation. It made sense though. She thought of the reactions from Skulls and the way Tyson had spoken about him. Big bad Bishop, they'd called him. Now she knew why.
“When our original leader got smoked in a drive-by I was the one who took over. There were older guys, guys with better connections, more guns, whatever. I was special though. I didn't seem to have any humanity in me. I'd do anything, and they knew it. My own guys were afraid of me, because that's what you need when you live that kinda life. You make yourself so hard that nothing can hurt you, not even yourself.” His voice was choked with bitterness as he spoke.
She touched his cheek. “I'm so sorry...”
“I did things I ain't proud of. Things that wake me up in a cold sweat some nights, even all these years later, I can't even tell you. It's my past. I gotta live with it.”
“So... what happened?”
He sighed. “We got cocky. Thought we could take over the whole damn city. Maybe even the whole damn world. We started pushing out of our turf. Started getting into the Death-heads' territory. They came down hard. Started taking our guys out. We fought back. It was like living in a goddamn warzone, Natalie. Every day I woke up expecting to die, thinking I wasn't gonna live to see the sunset. I was just so angry though, I couldn't stop fighting. I didn't even consider it, couldn't see a future where I wasn't doing it.”
He had a far-off haunted expression in his eyes. She tried to imagine it, young Jordan, bloodthirsty and desperate, a viscous creature of the streets. It was hard to reconcile the notion with the man she saw before her now. “How did it stop?”
He swallowed, and he looked her directly in the eyes. “The Death-heads used to use kids. Just boys, eight, nine, ten years old. They'd use 'em as couriers. Move drugs, guns, whatever. We were... doing a job. Taking out a stash of their shit. Wasn't supposed to be anybody there. We went in without doing recon, and caught a bunch of 'em there. Picking up stuff, getting ready to move it. You hesitate for a second in that kind of situation, you get taken out. We didn't even think. We wasted 'em all. Blew 'em away.”
“Oh my God...”
“I don't know who did it. Who fired the shot but... there was a kid there. Just a kid. Same age as Tasha was back then. Bullet through the head. One of us had killed him. I dunno... maybe it was even me. I couldn't tell.”
“Oh, Jordan...”
“I walked away after that. I just couldn't. It was like waking up out of a nightmare. And I been running from it ever since. Just trying to live. But that life... it doesn't just go away because you've had enough. It's like this,” he said, tapping the tattoo on his inner arm, “it's permanent. Like a scar. Like a wound that doesn't ever heal.”
She stared at him, her mouth open.
He grinned ruefully. “Well... still love me?”
She nodded. “More than ever. Always. I don't care who you were, or what baggage you carry. I know the man you are today, the man you choose to be. That's what matters. That's what I see.” She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close against herself.
He buried his face in her hair. For a long time they remained like that, not moving, not speaking, just holding one another. Then he let out a deep breath and cocked his head at the house behind them. “So. You gonna come inside and meet my mama, or what?”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jordan's house was quaint and clean, lovingly maintained. She instantly felt like she'd come home, in some strange way. It might look small and shabby on the outside, but the inside was cozy and welcoming.
To be entirely honest, Natalie actually found it preferable to her own huge and immaculate mansion. Her house seemed empty, devoid of humanity. This home had a sense of life and vitality to it. The mouth-watering scent of a home-cooked meal was wafting through the house. There were pictures on the wall of children, smiling faces, growing through the years.
“You really live with your mom?” she asked.
“It's safer,” he said. “Safer for her if I keep her close. Anyway, she couldn't afford another house. I've been paying the mortgage here since I was thirteen.”
She stopped in the hall and looked at a picture, yellowed and rumpled inside its frame, of a small boy – no more than five or six, she thought. Even at such a young age, the boy struck her as having a solemn manner about him, his expression serious and thoughtful. She recognized him right away, and couldn't help breaking out into a wide smile.
“You were cute,” she remarked lightly.
He rolled his eyes and ushered her on. “Yeah, yeah.”
“You're still cute, actually.”
“Very funny.”
“Who says I'm joking?”
“You just behave yourself, alright? I don't wanna have to spank you, baby.”
She stuck out her chin. “You wouldn't dare.”
He grinned and pulled her close to him, his hand cupping her bottom tightly and giving it a good squeeze. “You just try me.”
“I might do that.”
“This way,” he tilted his head on down the hall, “I'm going to introduce you to my mama, and you're gonna behave, you got it?”
“Yes sir,” she said with a grin.
“That you, sweetie?” The warm voice of an elderly lady came drifting from the kitchen.
“Yeah, Mama, it's me. Brought someone to see you.”
Natalie took a deep breath. It was ridiculous, especially given that she'd just had her life threatened by a gangster not two hours ago, but she felt more nervous about meeting this old woman than she did about going up against the Death-heads.
The kitchen was filled with tantalizing aromas, sweet and savory scents mixing in the air. A stout black woman with curly gray hair stood at the stove, a big wooden spoon in one hand and a pinch of something fragrant in another. She leaned over a steaming pot and sprinkled the spices in.
She turned around, an eyebrow rising. “What you talking about, boy? Who you bringing here? And you didn't even tell me? Lord almighty, boy, you'll be the death of me yet! I haven't even made anything special!”
He hugged her and kissed both of the offered cheeks.
“It's fine, Ma, you don't need to make anything special. It looks like you cooked enough for the whole block, anyway.”
“Pfft,” she scoffed, waving her spoon dismissively. “don't tell your Mama what to do, I don't care how old you are. Well? Introduce me!”
Jordan grinned, shaking his head. He turned back. “Natalie, this is my mother. Mama, this is Natalie Kendall. She's Tasha's lawyer.”
“Oh,” the smile fell from the woman's face. She swallowed hard and set her spoon aside. She was wringing her hands as she came up to Natalie, her face deadly serious. “Miss Kendall, Ma'am, I just wanna say thank you for everything you're doing for my baby girl. She... she's a good girl and she don't...” she sniffled, dabbing the corner of her eye on her apron, “She don't deserve none of this.”
Natalie felt her heart breaking. She took the old woman's hands in her own. “Misses Bishop, I am going to do everything I can for Tasha, I promise you. I believe in her, and I believe in her case.”
“I wanted to go,” she said, “I wanted to be there in the courtroom for my baby, but... I'm not as young as I was, you know. Arthritis, bad back, all that. Doctor says I shouldn't exert myself so much. And I... I just don't know if I can see that. My little girl, sitting there... I don't know if I can watch it.”
“What's happening to her is a miscarriage of justice, and I'm going to do everything I can to make it right.”
The old woman took a deep breath, and gave Natalie's hands another squeeze. She nodded slowly. “Thank you. Thank you. Lord knows this family been through enough.” She let out a puff of air and brushed at her eyes. “Come on then, here I am getting all weepy in my own kitchen. You two must be hungry. Go sit yourselves down and I'll bring the food in. Just 'bout ready.”
“Thanks, Mama,” Jordan said, and kissed her again on the cheek.
He led Natalie into a cozy little dining room, and the two of them sat down. She reached under the table and slipped her hand into his, their fingers interlacing. She looked at him and smiled, and he smiled back.
Sitting there in his cozy little family house, her hand in his hand, she felt... safe.
Mama Bishop brought in, just as Jordan had said, easily enough food to feed the entire street. It was incredible, a far cry from the dainty sushi platters and artisan salads she usual ate on her business lunches. This was good hearty home-cooking, mouth-watering and incredibly satisfying. She found herself eating far more than she usually allowed herself.
They talked about the case, about the neighborhood, about Natalie's career – which embarrassed her – and about Jordan's childhood – which embarrassed him.
After they ate, Mama Bishop excused herself, saying she needed to go to sleep. “I get tired faster than I used to. Gonna park these old bones in front of the television set and watch until I fall asleep in my chair,” she said, giving Natalie a little hug before she left. “A pleasure to meet you, Ma'am.”
And then Jordan and Natalie were alone again.
He looked at her, and she looked back. “So...” she said, “are you going to show me where you sleep, or what?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
“So... this is the place, huh?”
Jordan spread his hands out and gave a slight shrug. “This is it.”
“Not exactly spoiling yourself with all this, are you?”
“I like to keep things simple. Clean.”
“It's nice.”
Jordan's bedroom was on the second floor of the house – well away from where his mother was already dozing down in the basement den in front of the television set. It wasn't a particularly large room, but not overly small either. There was a large window and a large bed. No furniture besides a small dresser and a little writing desk with nothing on it.
She imagined him here, sitting in silence, his mind razor focused, meditative and alert. It was the room, she thought, of a warrior, a person who let no distractions come between himself and the mission which he had taken on, whatever it may be.
Natalie had never met a man quite like him in all her life. Someone so hard and yet so gentle. A man with so much passion and yet complete control. She found him enthralling, intoxicating... irresistible.
“Are you doing alright, Natalie?” he held her at arm's length, studying her face. His own eyes seemed to her bottomless with concern for her.
“I don't really know. This is just... it's so beyond me, you know? I never expected anything like this to happen to me. Seems crazy, sometimes, like... a dream, almost. Or like it's happening to somebody else and I'm just watching, because it's too strange to be real. I don't know.”
He sighed, giving her forearms a gentle squeeze. “I'm so sorry I got you dragged into all this. I never meant it to go this far. If I'd ever thought-”
“No,” she cut him off, “don't say it. It didn't just happen, Jordan. I choose this. I wanted to help you. I wanted to take the risk. For you. Because... because I love you.”
He drew her to himself and he kissed her. She surrendered herself to it utterly and completely. She felt like she'd been waiting for this ever since what had happened in the parking garage. She could feel all of her fears melting away. None of it mattered, not when he was holding her like this.
He cupped her cheeks and they gazed into one another's eyes. Her heart beat faster in her breast. “I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you.”
She shook her head. “Nothing's been happening to me all my life, Jordan. I've just been going through the motions. With you, I feel... God, I don't know how to say it, it sounds stupid...”
He smiled slightly, then nodded at the window. “Look over there. You see that? If you stand at just the right angle you can see through the buildings. You can see a tree. The only tree for blocks, the only living thing. In the spring, it flowers... white flowers, all the petals falling like snow... I sit here in front of this window and I just... look at it. It felt like something from another world. Something to hold onto. To keep myself sane. It's like you, Natalie. That's what you are to me. So... it's not stupid. I understand completely. Because I feel the same way about you.”
She stared at him, her heart in her throat, and she felt as if she were melting inside. She knew then that she needed him, needed him totally and completely. That night in the car hadn't been enough. She couldn't hold herself back. “Your mother won't be able to hear us, will she?” she asked softly.
Jordan grinned. “Not a chance.”
Natalie didn't need more than that. She pulled her blouse off in one swift motion, turning to drape it over the back of the chair at the little writing desk. Then she turned to look at him, feeling shy for just a moment, standing there in her bra and pencil skirt.
“You're so beautiful,” he said softly, and his voice sent a tremble through her.
God, how did he do it? Every time with him felt like her first time, not just with him but with anybody. It was like she was discovering sex all over again, as if everything up until him had been nothing more than a preamble, and this, at last, was the real thing.
“Take it out,” she said, putting a hand on her hip and trying to project an air of confidence. “Show it to me.”
He reached down and slowly undid the zipper. She had to hold back a gasp as he drew his cock out of his pants. He was already hard, and had to maneuver it carefully free of his boxers. Then it was free and in his fist, and her heart skipped a beat.
“God... it's so big...” she murmured.
The enormous black rod stood erect, waving slightly, an ebony shaft almost as big around as a Coca-Cola can and as long as her forearm. Seeing it now in the plain light, she could hardly believe that she'd had such a monster inside her. She told him as much, shaking her head slightly.
“You'd be surprised what you can do when you're turned on enough.”
She laughed. “Oh, you think I was turned on that much?”
He took a few steps towards her, grinning slightly, “Yeah,” he said, “I do.” He reached up and around and he undid
the strap of her bra with one swift motion. The clasp opened, and it fell to the floor. He cupped her breasts in his hands, brushing the thumbs over her firm pink nipples, gently squeezing the pale orbs, feeling their weight. “You were so hot for it,” he murmured, his eyes on her breasts, “went in just like butter.” He bent down and he wrapped his lips around her nipple.
She gasped, clutching his head to her, arching her back to give him better access.
He suckled sweetly, his tongue dancing upon her skin until her toes curled, and his hands slid down to cup her ass.
She pushed him back, breathing hard, her bosom heaving with every breath.
“My turn,” she said, gazing up at him through her eyelashes. Then she sank down to her knees before him, and caressed his cock with both hands, stroking it with long and languorous motions of her hands.
He groaned and leaned back, hands on his hips.
She smiled, and she wrapped her mouth around the thick ebony head of his dick. It felt so good in her mouth, warm and sweet and powerful. She shut her eyes and just surrendered herself to it, sinking into a kind of dreamy haze as her lips began to move up and down the length of him.
She reached up and drew his balls out of his boxers, caressing them softly with the tips of her fingers as she worked her mouth back and forth, swirling her tongue along the underside of his shaft, teasing and sucking, stroking with her other hand at the base.
He moaned, and he buried his fingers in her thick auburn hair, and she felt herself smile. She was no longer afraid. Right now, everything felt good.
Neither of them were aware, however, of the distant glint of binocular lenses visible through the gap in the curtains through which Jordan would sit and watch his tree. Neither of them knew they were being watched.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Natalie woke up to the sunlight streaming in through the window, the chirping of morning birds as they greeted the new day, and the distant sounds of the city coming to life.
