by Tiana Laveen
“Adopted, dyslexic, boarding school…those were all challenges in one way or another. Despite that, look how you turned out? A good person…” Her voice trailed away.
“To some degree, but I’m a work in progress.”
“Aren’t we all?”
“No. Not everyone wants to be better or improve, so nah, we all aren’t.” He swallowed, his heart feeling heavier and heavier, understanding that the woman he was in love with, and wanted to spend all of his waking hours around, may curse him out soon, and leave him there all alone if he continued.
All alone…abandoned…not wanted…not loved.
“But aren’t we supposed to be?” She interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back to the present.
“I think we are supposed to be whatever we want to be.”
“Can I ask you a personal question, Ace?”
“You can ask me whatever you want to, Brooklyn…whatever you want.”
“Did being adopted make you mistrustful?”
“Not the adoption itself, but the motivations I assigned to it had a hand in that.” He slouched a bit and readjusted himself on the saddle. “I didn’t have the complaints you hear about so much. My parents never treated me worse or better than their biological kids. Like I told you, I’m pretty close to my family, actually.”
“What do you think caused it all, then? The trust issues? Funny though, you seem to trust me.”
“I do trust you. I trust you completely.”
He felt like a whopping piece of shit. He did trust her, yet, he knew she couldn’t return that emotion in kind. It hurt like hell. How could he be trusted while still harboring such crucial, life-changing information? Guilt had grown legs, walked up to him and punched him in the gut.
“As far as what caused it, I’m still trying to figure that out.”
“That’s fair. Ace?”
“Yeah?”
He twisted around to face her. The sun filtered through her hair, making her glow as if she were adorned with an angelic halo made of golden rays. His gut wrung a bit tighter. For the first time in his life, he was afraid — knowingly afraid. And as fate would have it, he feared losing the woman he loved…
“Do you want to talk about it? You can talk to me, you know?” She reached for his hand again, held it even tighter.
“Thank you…Yeah, I’d like that.”
“Can we uh, stop for a minute?” He heard a slight tremble in her voice.
“Of course.”
She reined in the horse and the stallion slowed, as did Georgia.
“I want to tell you something, too.”
All he could do was look at her, though he tried to look through her, straight to her heart.
“I’m…I’m not from Louisiana. I’m from Texas.”
His heart started to beat loud in his ears.
“I’ve been lying, not to you directly, I just never cleared it up. Like I told you, I had some stuff happen…” She looked away, as if ashamed. “And I just wanted a new start. No one knows this but you. You’re the first person I’ve told. I should’ve told you sooner, but I’m now at the point where I feel comfortable enough to do so.”
Jesus H. Christ!
If he could’ve stretched his foot to his ass, he would’ve kicked himself all over that damn field. Hard. This was the part where he should’ve come clean, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. She’d opened up, so how could he hurt her like that? Allow her to spill her guts and then do a, ‘Oh, by the way, dear ol’ dad sent me. Thank you for flying Betrayal Airlines, piloted by Ace Blackstone, the wrong motherfucker to trust.’
His feelings for her were growing so fast and serious; he didn’t want their story to end. He couldn’t stand the thought of that happening. He hadn’t expected her to offer any truth of that magnitude just yet, but she seemed relieved to have torn a few bricks away from her towering wall. He stuck his head in the opening she provided, and the view was spectacular…
“I really don’t know what to say, Brooklyn. I guess I want to encourage you to come to me, to talk to me, like you just did.” He sighed, slid off his horse and tied her to a nearby post, doing the same to Duke.
Ace, just do it…you have to tell the truth.
“Come on, let me help you down from here so we can have a chat.” He led her away, moving forward, but unsure where he was going. His skin felt slightly wet with perspiration as his anxiety built and built and built until it was so high and lofty, he could no longer see it clearly.
As he drowned in his own thoughts, trying to figure out what the hell to say or do, she grabbed him by the nape and brought his face abruptly down to hers. The kiss was searing, urgent, desperate, and he returned it with the same fervor, until they tumbled to the cool ground, causing the horses to nay and move about. Before long, he had her pinned against the dirt, his hands eagerly romancing her body as their tongues danced in each other’s mouths. He paused, looked into her wild eyes, awakened to new possibilities. Wrapping his hands tightly around her waist, he sucked hard and feverishly along her neck and jawbone, kissing her and pouring all of his building emotions for her into his touch.
Their labored breathing was loud as they lost themselves in each other. Their bodies twisted, their movements hectic and all-consuming, as if a fire raged within him. This was a different emotion, a different feeling. Not lust, but a need to purge himself, although fear stuck her neck in the picture and made him a coward, the very thing he despised. He bit down on despair, hoping and praying he could have her just once more, in all ways, before the plug was pulled.
Why did I have to meet you this way?! Why couldn’t it have just been at a store or in traffic?! Why do you have to be a missing person, a ‘Most Wanted’?! Why?!
His body trembled as she moaned and grinded against his bumping pelvis. He wanted to be inside of her, deep within, to feel her surrounding him physically, mentally and spiritually. He tugged at his belt, fighting angry tears as his need for her rose so hard and high, it could no longer be corralled.
She looked between their writhing bodies for a moment, unzipped her jacket then pushed her shirt up, exposing a lacey cinnamon colored bra. Her small, perky breasts heaved and he lowered his face to devour them over the thin fabric covering her soft flesh. She sighed as he landed his tongue against her nipple, licking it to erection, sucking it through the material.
“Uhhhh, Mmmmm!” he moaned, tugging away at her, his need making him thrust into her pelvis through his jeans.
“Ahhh….” She rolled about, taking him with her. The horses stirred around them, causing her to look up and past his shoulder but he didn’t have the will power to stop just yet.
“Ace…” She tapped his shoulder lightly, then a bit more urgently. “Ace!”
“What?!” he said breathlessly, annoyed he had to halt his caresses. He’d kissed and sucked both twin peaks and was eager to return to his original station.
“The owners…the owners are coming.”
Ace quickly followed her eyes and saw Janet stomping toward them. He couldn’t quite make out the boxy woman’s face but by her body language, she wasn’t coming over to sing them an early Christmas Carol.
“Shit!” He got to his feet, unable to believe that in that brief moment, he’d forgotten space and time. He helped Brooklyn get her clothing situated, though her hair, in obvious disarray, made it quite clear that some frolicking had taken place.
Janet finally reached them, her thin lips curved downward, her expression forbidding. She held a long, tattered lasso in one hand, and a thick, old flip cellphone in the other. Huffing, she glowered at them like a disapproving grandmother who’d spotted her grandbaby digging their dirty fingers in the freshly baked cake.
“Ace, ya know we got cameras ’round here! Now, I understand you called and arranged a romantic time with your girlfriend here.” Her eyes narrowed. “But that doesn’t mean you can take each other apart on the damn ground in a public place! Kids and everything come up here, and we can’t
have—”
He held up his hand, still out of breath. He looked a mess with his dark brown leather jacket unbuttoned and his shirt practically ripped off his body, partially exposing his tattoo of black jumping flames.
“Janet,” he breathed out, staring at the woman through half hooded eyes while his cock twitched angrily in his pants like a snake thrown in a potato sack. “I’m, so sorry.” He could barely catch his breath. “I got a little carried away…it won’t…” he turned in a circle and ran his fingers through his fauxhawk, “…happen again. I’m really sorry, my apologies.”
The older woman looked as if she wanted to scold both of them again; her hands fisted and unfisted while her meager lips slightly quaked. He kept staring at her, bewilderment mounting inside of him and soon realized what was going on. She was stifling a damn laugh. He’d known Janet since he was a little kid, even through the boarding school days, and he was there so often, they let him ride whenever he had the urge. He even donated money to the horse farm so that they could buy a few more ponies for the kids that came up from the Special Needs programs. So instead of reading them the riot act, she nodded, shot them both an additional disapproving glance — for good measure — and stormed back off.
He sighed and watched the woman get smaller and smaller, then turned back towards Brooklyn, fully expecting her to be bright red with her purse in hand ready to get the hell out of there. Instead, she stood bent over, wrestling with a belly full of chuckles. She soon broke into bellowing laughter, and he found himself following suit.
“Oh my God!” she shouted, laughing so hard, her eyes narrowed to mere slits. She held her gut as if she had a tummy ache. “So embarrassing! Did you see her face?!” Brooklyn continued on, laughing hysterically before mimicking the woman. “Ace! Kids and everything come up here!” she said in a gruff voice, sounding very much like Janet.
He laughed a bit louder now. “You are so silly…” He delighted in her amusement. “Yeah, of course I saw her face, she was less than a foot away from me…She’ll probably call my mother and tell her. A thirty-two year old man, being tattled on…un-fucking-believable.”
Brooklyn continued to laugh until she tumbled back onto the ground, tears welling in her eyes while she tried to catch her breath. Ace’s erection was finally subsiding but he couldn’t wipe the crooked grin off his face.
“Ahhh.” Brooklyn sighed and got back to her feet. She dusted off her knees, wiped her eye with the back of her hand and looked at him, her face growing serious. “Well, it was fun while it lasted.”
We’ll continue this later…
He walked towards Georgia and gently petted her face.
“…So, now that mood was ruined from Janet the cock-blocker of the year, do you want to finish this horse ride?”
“Of course!” She bounced over towards him, allowing him to help her again atop Duke. Ace did the same, getting on his horse and commanding the regal creature to gently stride. They were quiet for sometime. He rolled in his thoughts, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to do. Things were getting out of hand. He had to tell her the truth, sooner or later. He owed it to her, especially after what she’d just confessed to him.
“Why are you so quiet?” She turned towards him, a silly grin on her face as Duke kept a slow, even pace.
“You’d be quiet too, if your nuts were constricted and twisted up like a damn pretzel!” He readjusted, but it seemed to do little to help.
Brooklyn burst out laughing again, causing him to do the same. As he watched her, he figured out something —he relished it. Hearing her laughing didn’t merely stroke his ego. The damn truth was, it filled him with joy. He knew the woman hadn’t laughed that hard in a long ass time, and he’d given that to her. She was laughing because they were together, and they were doing things that couples do. For that, he was grateful, and for a split second, he could pretend that everything between them was just perfect…and he had no wrongs to make right…
~***~
How can a curious cat ignore the yellow canary flitting about in the room? Ace thought of his motto as he stood on Dallas, Texas soil in the wee hours of the morning, across from the police precinct. He was away for business, in the truest since of the notion. The situation had gone on far too long. He needed to know more about Mr. Henderson, and why the woman who stole his heart had fled from what appeared to be such a perfect childhood, almost as if it belonged in a glass menagerie with pink and blue glitter falling about the gorgeous scene of her life. That was just the thing — he was in love with the woman, and he needed to know everything about her. In his world, the more he knew about someone, regardless of the nature of the information, it drew him that much closer to that person for, to him, information about a subject — this one happening to be living in his very soul — ignited the power within.
Going on four hours of sleep, he still felt invigorated as he slicked his hand in his gray jacket pocket. A mere 65 degrees, it was refreshing to dress lighter, knowing that the day would soon heat up with more than just sun rays, but riveting material he couldn’t access from his innocuous confines in Chicago.
Day three…
Three must’ve been his lucky number. He leaned against his car, clicking through his brain as if it were a camera, going over the news he’d excavated in his mind. Thus far, he confirmed that Mr. Henderson was a head mothafucker in charge. Of that, there was no mystery, but one incident the year of Brooklyn’s disappearance that wasn’t even a bread crumb, not big enough of a wrinkle in the perfect family fabric to bring the fiend any attention, drew him in the limelight— front and center. It was a tiny little shred of something, and plain as sullen black text on thick white parchment in Ace’s eyes, but small, all the same.
“See.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette, lit it, tilted his head to the side and blew out smoke as he squinted under the welcoming beams of the sun. “It’s the little things that change all this shit. It’s shit like this that people fucking miss…” he mumbled to himself, a sense of pride now flowing through his analytical veins. He glanced over at the police station once again, smirked and crossed his ankles.
“Y’all missed this… It was right there, and you missed it.” He hadn’t stepped foot inside the place, had no intentions of doing so, but he needed to take a look at it, to be there, as his mind continued to race.
He opened his car door and slid inside. Taking a sip of his hot coffee, he sighed and picked up the worn, yellowed obituary notice. He read it again and again. To the normal person going about their business, stumbling through life, this didn’t look the least bit out of the ordinary, but to Ace, it was the fucking gauntlet —for Mr. Henderson was no stellar, whistle clean pillar of the community.
A motherfucker in sheep’s clothing. I got it now…I got this, baby. Everything’s gonna be alright…
He didn’t have all the pieces. Matter of fact, most of the damned answers were missing, but this tiny kernel was just enough to fill in the most important gaps of all. He picked up the newspaper clipping, scanned it leisurely for the one-hundredth time then cast it aside onto the passenger’s seat. Timing was the biggest clue to all detective work. Minutes meant something; even one second could change an entire outcome… and when Brooklyn took off at the age of eighteen, she wasn’t just running away from Mr. Henderson. The woman had simply run out of time…
Baby, it’s okay. Ace will protect you. You can bet on it…
~***~
“I missed you...” She crooned into her cellphone, gripping it as she tossed about.
“I missed you too, honey, you know I did.”
“Hey, I was thinking the other day.” Brooklyn yawned as she stretched far out on her bed, a tapestry of sage and red sheets covering her naked body. “Like, about us, about you in particular.”
“Well, I hope it was good,” he said gruffly through the phone line. His voice had a way of tickling her deep within.
“It was…it is…”
The gruff
ness, the simple yet wisdom-drenched way he spoke... Shit, she never got used to it. It matched him so perfectly, as much a part of him as the spikey, dark brown fauxhawk, his close shaven beard and the wild fires that ran across his upper chest. He even had matching flames on his arm…The fire burned all around. That chest though…mmmmm, yes. The chest she’d laid her head on countless times now and felt so safe and protected there.
“Hey, let me ask you something.”
“Mmmmhmmmm…” he responded.
“How’d you get that scar on your face?”
A brief silence ensued.
“I’m not sure. I had it before I was adopted. I used to be a little self conscious about it, but now, it is kinda like my calling card. I’ve grown to appreciate it I suppose.”
She could hear his smile through the phone and caught the distinct sound of the man blowing out swirls of smoke. She could envision him lying across his bed as well, possibly on his stomach, ankles crossed and feet bunched in the sheets. She wondered what he had on. She heard J. Dilla’s, “So Far To Go” playing in the background and couldn’t help but break out in a smile as Common rapped over the jazzy tune.
…A story called, ‘Go’…
“…I thought you only listened to heavy metal? You have my mind all messed up now. I can’t figure you out, Ace,” she said, her voice husky from sleepiness. Three a.m. crept up on them and threw her eyelids down like half pulled blankets up to the knees. This was a nightly thing now. They’d stay on the phone forever, never growing tired of one another, a comfort level she wasn’t used to. She was able to relax in this man’s presence yet still, something about him kept her on edge. He was the very thing she ran to and away from but now, she just wanted to be in his molecular structure…around him all the damn time.
“I can only like one thing, huh? I can’t explore this big wide world and listen to other stuff?” He laughed lightly.
