Defiant

by Ursula Sinclair

  “Yeah, big enough to drive trucks through,” Serena chuckled.

  “Exactly. A big ass eighteen wheeler.” I knew I’d stumped him when I told him about the Leakeys. I wondered if he’d check it out. All it took was a Wi-Fi or cell service connection and an internet search. “That’s part of the problem. These people turn their brains off; they don’t think for themselves, let others do it for them and blame everyone else for their personal problems instead of themselves. I plan on waking him up.”

  “Wow! So you plan on seeing him again?”

  I sighed. “Honest to God, I don’t know.” But, I hoped.

  “You’re crazy. I can’t see you bringing him home to introduce him to your father and his wife. Your father will get his gun out and shoot him where he stands, and he’d have the money and connections to get away with it.”

  “That’s not even funny because it would be true. But, it won’t come to that. Besides, I may never see him again. He wanted me to stay away from him. So, there will be no reason for my dad to ever meet him.” I didn’t bother to let her know I gave him my contact information. I knew she’d not be happy about that at all.

  “I think you need to do what that man says and stay away from him. He lives in a whole ‘nother world.”

  My phone beeped, letting me know I had another call. For a split second my heart sped up in anticipation of it being Dachs. But, of course, it wasn’t Dachs calling. Justin’s image popped up. I got off the phone with Serena and took Justin’s call. I invited him over later. I couldn’t continue like this, dating one man while thinking about another. Whether Dachs called me or not, Justin and I were done—might as well get it over with.

  None of this would go well. I was stupid to think it would. The moment I opened the door, Justin walked into the condo and reached for me. I stepped out of his way and asked him to take a seat.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  I’d been distant with him for a while now, and he knew it. I remained standing near the sofa not sure quite where to start.

  He patted the seat beside him, and I took it. He ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Look, I know I’ve been working a lot recently, and I’ve tried to give you space, so you could get your schoolwork done. But, I’ve got a surprise for you. I thought just the two of us could go away this weekend to reconnect. I got us a room at that little bed and breakfast place by the water in upstate New York you liked.”

  Wasn’t going to happen.

  I shook my head. “I’m sorry, Justin but, no. A weekend getaway isn’t going to fix things between us. Our relationship should be moving forward. We should be growing closer, but we’re not. Instead, if anything, we’re at a standstill—a rut. Nothing more will come of us. I want more and so should you. I’m sorry.”

  He stared at me; his forehead crinkled in disbelief. He got up and paced around the living room. His face was flushed in anger, and at first, his sentences were clipped, like he was checking his words before he spoke, so he wouldn’t say anything he’d regret. “But, things are good between us. We are good together. We belong together. You—we just need more time.”

  “Times not going to make any difference. It’s over.”

  Then his tone changed, he let the anger seep through. “I cannot believe this. Where is this coming from?” Justin asked.

  I shook my head. We were both standing now facing each other. “I’m sorry. It’s nothing to do with you.”

  “It sure as hell has to do with me, with us, since you’re telling me it’s over.”

  “We’re not right for each other, Justin—not in the way we should be. And, in truth, I’m swamped right now with school and my upcoming spring internship. I need to concentrate on school and myself right now—then, my new job after graduation. I need to do me right now.”

  “That’s bullshit!” Finally, he stopped pacing and looked at me. “Is there someone else? Are you fucking someone else?”

  “What! Hell, no.”

  “Bitch—”

  That was it. Nobody called me by anything other than my name in my damn house. “Get out. Get the hell out of my house and delete my number.”

  He raised his finger and pointed it at my chest. “That’s it, you are fucking some—”

  I slapped him across his face and pointed to the door. I was so angry. He looked at me with flared nostrils and clenched his fist.

  “Don’t even think about it,” I growled out. “The first man who hits me is a dead one.”

  He turned on his two thousand dollar pair of loafers and left, slamming the door on his way out.

  I took a deep breath and got out a bottle of wine.

  I knew then I’d made the right decision to break up with Justin. After being together for a year, if that’s how little he thought of me, then he could go screw himself. There was a reason I never gave him access to my place. A part of me knew I’d withheld a part of myself from him.

  We came from a similar background and have a similar lifestyle. We should have been perfect for each other. He thought so, as did others, but I’m not sure I ever did.

  An image of vibrant blue eyes flashed across my consciousness. I couldn’t be more different from the man behind those eyes. We weren’t even on the same planet. Yet, I wasn’t letting go. I couldn’t. Not until I got my point across to that Neanderthal. Someone had to—might as well be me.

  I grabbed some leftover Thai food, heated it up and went to my home office. I powered up my laptop, and instead of opening up my documents folder, out of curiosity, I opened up my social media accounts and did a search of Dachs’ name. It was unique enough I only got a few hits. None was the one I searched for. I should have known, if he had social media accounts, he’d have them locked down. Since he now had mine, I wondered if he’d search my pages. My accounts were public. I had nothing to hide. Then again, I didn’t put a lot of truly personal information on there or any pictures a future employer might take issue with. But the other reason I opened up my accounts, was to change my relationship status to single. I wondered if there was a way I could tell if anyone trolled my pages.

  14

  Dachs

  The meetings for the parade were long and between that, work, and tech classes it had been over a week since I made it home. Mom was blowing up my phone, and I couldn’t get the black girl out of my head. Her nagging was annoying, but once I got past that, just listening to the tinkle in her voice as opposed to the words falling from her lips was nice. She was a know-it-all, someone who only sees the world in black and white. Where as I saw the many layers of gray that created the unfairness that surrounded me and my brothers and sisters.

  I leaned on the bar. There were plenty of seats on the train, but I was too restless to sit in one place. For the first time in a week, I was going home to sleep—well, that and to see my mom. We may never see eye to eye, but still, I missed the old woman. Digging into my back pocket, I pulled my cell free. It wasn’t to reach out to the woman who birthed me. My fingers hovered over the screen.

  I knew how to reach the black girl, Harper, an unusual name. I shook my head. The more I thought about her, the more I wanted to know. Curious, I checked out her social media page. It was frivolous. Based on face value, she led a rather boring life; there was nothing to reflect her thoughts or values—nothing of substance, just pictures of stupid cats and dogs and internet vomit. That wasn’t the young black woman I’d met—all spit and fire.

  She is beneath you; that blackie doesn’t have the right to wash your clothes.

  Sentences scrolled through my mind. Just words to some, but they held some truths, and I spent most of my life believing them. Now, and not sure why, I wanted to feel her beside me, against me, under me. My lids drifted shut. Her image filled my mind. The locks of her hair, were they soft? Was her skin supple? My body flushed at my thoughts. It was a fever. Forbidden fruit, I wanted something that technically I shouldn’t have. Shouldn’t want. What did Gage call it…Jungle Fever.

  A long
exhale escaped me. I told her to stay away from me and it had been a while since I found her on the train. Still, if Gage talked—no—the big bastard couldn’t have, or I would be dead already. Maybe she finally used that brain in her head and listened to what I was saying. At least she wasn’t stupid. I am the dumb one for thinking about a woman—a girl—who was nowhere near ready for me. Was it possible that I missed her? Fuck no, it couldn’t be. A snort blew through my lips. Hell, I may not be ready for her. Her ideals weren’t mine, but her passion in her beliefs—yeah—that I could relate too. I shifted to accommodate my growing erection and glanced around. I had enough labels attached to me. I didn’t need pervert added to the list.

  “Long time no see. Your bruises are fading.” The soft voice spoken on a seductive whisper. “Dachs.”

  It wasn’t her. When words erupted through her mouth, they were usually combative. Not so, this woman standing next to me…I turned my head.

  Becky.

  “Hey.” I pushed off the pole. “You know how it goes. They’ll be gone in another day or so.” I skimmed my jaw with my fingers. My stop would be coming up soon. The phone I didn’t bother to check, I shoved it back into my front pocket.

  “What ya up to tonight?” Becky eased closer to me.

  Sleep. Maybe a decent conversation with my parents—an iffy possibility given our different views. I gazed into the bottomless blue eyes of my fuck buddy. Becky wasn’t someone I would ever commit to. She was a side piece, and I didn’t even have a main woman. The pleasure experienced between her thighs was shared by too many of my brothers.

  “I got some business to take care of at home.”

  “It’s been a while. Think you could spare a little time for me? I miss our...talks.”

  I stared at her and studied her features. Becky was pretty, but the toll of hanging with the brotherhood was starting to show. Worry lines were beginning to fan out from the corners of her eyes. Her baby pink lip gloss caked at the corners of her mouth. It was rumored she was once the Prof’s favorite, but I never bothered to ask. Whatever they had, their business happened before I joined the organization. No need to think too hard about it; she was still available to comfort, wait, Becky called it ‘stress relief’. She fucked whoever wanted to fuck when she felt like fucking. A question struck me that I’d never cared about before.

  I had an idea. She was part of the Prof’s crew when I joined, but I never inquired about it. “Becky, how old are you?”

  “Why?” She cocked her head to the side, and her hair tumbled over her shoulder. Her movements felt practiced.

  I never cared who she fucked, but how did it affect her? Sharing her amongst the brothers was cool with me. No harm, no foul. If Becky didn’t mind, why should I?

  It was that black girl’s fault.

  I was thinking about things I’d never cared about before.

  “Just a thought.”

  “My stop is coming up next. Walk me home.”

  For the first time, I noticed a sadness in the deep blue depths of her eyes. “Yeah, I’ll do that.”

  The train ground to a stop and the cab jerked, lurching me to the side. Instinctively I held out my arm to steady Becky. She gripped my forearm, her blunt fingertips pressing into my skin. I peered down, there was no shocking difference in our color. No shock of electricity from her touch. Becky was comfortable, but the black girl—Harper—would her touch be soothing or fiery?

  “You are always a gentleman.” The uptick of the corner of her mouth didn’t reach her eyes.

  “I did learn a few things from my mama.” I moved toward the doors as they slid open.

  Becky followed, and we left the station in a comfortable silence, slowly trudging up the sidewalk. Halfway to her house, she quietly spoke. “I’m thirty-six. I actually started out as a student of the Prof’s.” There was a thread of sadness in her tone.

  I glanced down at her. I wasn’t expecting that admission. She was older than I believed. “Ever thought of making new friends?” That was the million-dollar question. Had anyone ever shaken her resolve—her commitment to White Pride?

  “Why? You and the guys, the Prof, the girls I hang with…there is no need to move outside my circle of friends. You understand me.” Becky shrugged.

  That was the problem. There was a wider world beyond the city’s high rises. What happened if we all went our separate ways? If we were exposed to other choices, would our resolve still revolve around each other? God in heaven, but my headache was growing.

  “Are you ready for the parade?” She waved her hands in front of my face.

  I didn’t realize she’d moved. “I’ve organized the brothers for the march and have taken care of making sure we have the supplies we need. Bruno is handling the other stuff the Prof wants. I’ll be ready on my end.”

  Becky slid her palm up my arm. “You have never failed the brothers or the brotherhood.”

  She wrapped her fingers around the back of my neck and went up on her toes. Her face was mere inches from mine. Once upon a time…just a week ago…no a little more than that, I would have leaned in. Now, I wasn’t interested. I couldn’t even work up enough emotion to care.

  She wasn’t who I wanted.

  I am going to hell.

  “Your apartment is right up the street.” I didn’t want to go any further.

  “I got some wine. There are a couple beers in the fridge—a nice shower,” she purred before pressing her lips to my jaw. The talcum powder scent of her cheap perfume wafted to my nose.

  Yeah, I had more of a hard on thinking about the black girl with the alluring smile.

  Harper.

  “Another day.” It would do no good to cross Becky. If she even had a hint as to what I was thinking, exposing me to the others would be my death sentence. Seems like no matter where I turned, I faced danger around every corner. I would have to make some hard choices soon. Decisions I’m not prepared to make. But, I can’t keep questioning my foundation. Soon enough someone would realize my thoughts were taking dangerous paths.

  Damn, damn, damn.

  She settled back on her feet. Becky’s eyes narrowed. “You never turned me down before.”

  “Changes are coming, like the Prof says. There is no time for any distractions.” Would she buy my explanation?

  A slow smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Your dedication is...admirable. Another time, then.” She shuffled a few steps back, giving me room.

  I twisted on my heels and returned in the direction I came. I pulled my cell free and tapped the screen—her number—Harper’s. I’d memorized it. She was a pain in the ass, but right then, I wanted to talk—no, argue with her and remind myself why being around her was a bad idea on many levels. We didn’t jive and talking to her would never amount to anything important.

  She wasn’t important.

  Any contact between us was foolish. I stared at the screen and tapped the digits before raising the cell to my ear and listening to the ringtones.

  “Hello.”

  Her voice, the soft sound of a simple word. I pressed the phone harder to my ear.

  Yeah, I am pretty much damned.

  15

  Harper

  When I saw the unknown number show up on my phone, I didn’t think much of it. I usually don’t answer unknown numbers from out of state; they were always those stupid insurance calls. No matter how many times I blocked the numbers there was always another number the same company would call you from, trying to sell you something you didn’t need. But this time, it was a local area code and perhaps that’s why I answered it.

  “Hello,” I said, half expecting it to be another one of those stupid cold calls. Instead, I got silence for a moment and my inhaled air got stuck in my chest as I waited for a reply. I knew, just knew who was on the line.

  “Why? Why can’t I get you out of my head?”

  I sat down. A good thing there was a bench right there. My legs really did collapse at the sound of the husky notes of his voice—mo
re like a growl really. I was still on campus, late, working on a project and had been for the last few days, so I’d been driving to school. I’d just been heading to my car. I could admit to myself, now, I’d been waiting for his call and had felt a deep seated disappointment when a week of silence had gone by.

  I had been driving to school not just because of the late project, but also, because I didn’t want to run into him by chance on the train at all. I wanted him to be the one to reach out to me—to take that deliberate next step. I’d already taken all I would or could. He had to meet me the rest of the way. And, my God, he’d called me. I released the breath trapped in my chest and took in another one before I could find my voice.

  “Nothing that you haven’t done to me.”

  “You’re not taking the train?”

  I smiled. Was he looking for me? And, I asked him, “Why? Did you miss me?” Silence. I chuckled. “Well it took you long enough to call me.”

  “Were you wanting me to call?”

  “I wouldn’t have given you my information if I didn’t. I hoped you’d use it, and you did.”

  “Why?”

  “No reason. I just did.”

  “This is a bad idea…I’ve…I’ve got to go.”

  “No! Wait.” I didn’t beg. It wasn’t in my make up, yet I couldn’t let him hang up, let him go. I had thought about him. “Meet me. Now. Anywhere, name the place. I have my car. I can even pick you up. We can go somewhere and just…talk.” I was rambling but I didn’t care, not if it worked. I was supposed to meet my dad for dinner and was running late, but I’d reschedule with him.

  He took a long time before answering. “An hour.” He spouted off the name of the sports bar just down the street from my condo, then hung up.

  It had been awhile since I smiled so much. I got into my car and remembered to text my dad, asking for a rain check. He and his wife were back in town, and he wanted us to have dinner together, like we were a family.