Dance With Me
Page 6
“Jaime? “Debbie asked, “Have you lost your mind?”
Ignoring her question as she did him, instead, Jaime asked “Is it because he’s black? Or from the hood?”
Debbie just stood there, shocked. “What?”
Jaime didn’t answer; he just went on with his little charade. “‘Cuz I am Puerto Rican and I am from the hood and I know I ain’t no thug.” Jaime snapped his fingers in her face.
She tilted her head a little to the side as if examining an insect. “Jaime! Are you okay in the head? You know I’m black, right? How'd the fuck can I be racist against my kind?”
Jaime copied her rude actions from earlier and shrugged in an ‘I ‘m confused’ manner.
“I don’t know.”
She squinted at him and shook her head.
“I’m just saying,” he said.
She sucked her teeth, expressing her frustration at him and the situation.
“Whatever. I am no racist. I just don’t like the”
With Jaime glaring at her, she stopped talking abruptly.
“Baby-girl, not all men are the same-”
“I know that.” she interrupted him. “It’s just-”
“Good. Then stop thinking that everyone out the ‘hood’ is ghetto.” He interrupted her this time. “And I think it’s about time you extracted that word ‘thug’, out yo’ vocabulary, Mamie”
Debbie sighed once more. He was right, she thought. Not everyone from the ‘hood’ was ghetto and not every other man for that matter, was a dawg or a felon.
I mean, look at Eric. He wasn’t a thug or a male slut. He was her black knight in shining armor, with no baby mama drama or any babies for that matter. His family was well off and he was an only child.
Hell, even some of the hustlers she knew from back in the day, were almost on the straight and narrow.
Almost.
So, maybe she judged the boy by his crime and not by his nature….and his height...and his size….and his mean chiseled face - O.K. Fine.
She was wrong.
That does not mean she had to admit...out loud….in public. Especially to Jaime. And Jaime did say that he didn’t hurt anybody, that he was only defending his life and his mama’s.
Oh, alright. Fine.
“I’m sorry”
“Don’t go apologizing’ to me, Missy. I’m not the one you insulted!”
Sighing was becoming a habit for her today.
“Fine.
“Good”
Alright. So?” She asked. “What are you gone do about this?”
Jaime, who was just waiting to hear these exact words come floating out of her mouth, crossed his toned arm across his narrow chest. “Na-ah, sugar. Not me, you. What are you going to do about this?”
Debbie squeaked out, “Me?” like a trapped mouse.
And Jaime, who was acting like the cat with some left-over cream on his face, stated “Yes you. Now,” he gave her a little push in the direction of the boy. “You go' on over there and apologize to the nice young man and plead the fifth if you must. Just don’t come back over here till you get him to agree to our proposal.”
With a final push, Debbie found herself standing-once again- at the boy’s back.
12
Four days later….
“I said, I was sorry.” Nigel paused long enough from tightening the plastic washer with his wrench to glance down at her on his right and turned away from her once more. At six feet that should have been easy to do. For some unknown reason to him, he couldn’t figure out why that was.
He’d heard her walk away from him on the day of the argument with Mr. Marba. She’d hastily mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ under her breath back then and scampered away like a frightened rabbit. The swishing of her flared skirt could be heard rubbing against her skin as she walked away.
At some point on his break from the AC unit, she’d come back, around to ask him to be her partner in her performance act.
She didn’t even have the guts to look him in the eye while she asked. She looked everywhere else, except at him. And that pissed him off more than he wanted to admit to himself. Why he even cared, was beyond him.
He’d turn around and left her standing in the corner on her own.
A few days ago during the afternoon class, after she and Mr. Marba whispered something fierce at the reception area, she tried to get his attention.
True, after all his pleading and threatening for two whole days, that Nigel had already told Jaime that he would help him out, just to get that ungrateful, indiscreet little witch away from him for a while.
Now as the day closed two days later and they were the only two persons left up in this dump, where no one could remark on her ‘humiliation’ for her actions, she wanted to apologize?!
Jaime hadn’t told her his decision. Nor would he be the one to tell her either.
He ignored her then and he would ignore her now.
“I heard you the first time. Now go away.”
The minx was not too happy with his response.
“Is that all you’re going to say to me?” she asked haughtily.
The tapping of her ultra-sexy shoes was starting to annoy him. “Yes. Anything else?”
He heard her stamp her foot down with such force that her heel could have gone through the wood floor beneath her feet, yet, somehow, he knew that the next few chosen words out her mouth would further piss him off.
“Okay, look, Nelson- “she said, angrily, arms akimbo at her side.
“Nelson?! Girl, my name is Nigel!”
“Whatever!” she shouted at him, her voice echoing in the space. “I don’t know what’s yo’ damn problem is boy, but-”
“What’s my problem?” Nigel swung around so fast on her that she gasped involuntarily, yet she never took a step back.
Her surprised look quickly faded to sneer as she sized him up and down like an insect, she wished to crush beneath her five-inch stiletto heels.
For some unexplained reason, that turned Nigel on like a light switch.
“What’s my problem? You, of all persons, don’t know what my problem is?” he asked sarcastically as he tried intimated her with his size.
Her arms still akimbo at her sides, she rudely kissed her teeth, looked off to her left, then back at him as she crossed her arms under her generous breasts and relaxed into a defiant stance as she dared him to touch her. And touch her he did.
Grabbing her by her forearm, Nigel pulled the girl bodily up against his hard chest- her hands instantly flattened against his chest- and swung across the room with her in a twirl to push her up against the wall near the ac unit closet.
Her soft, plush curves fit into his long hard body like a missing puzzle piece as he crushed his body against hers.
“Let go of me! How dare you put your filthy hands on me?!” she shrieked, pushing him away from her with such strength from her small frame, that startled Nigel enough that she slipped from the cage of his arms with ease.
He ignored her question, let his frustrations and lust take over his mind.
She stood there, looking him up and down once more, the disgusted look expressing her apparent dislike for him before she walked off.
He knew he should not care, should not even bother, yet Nigel saw red.
She walked away, angrily muttering to herself. Kissing her teeth even louder.
Nigel caught her arms from behind and pulled her back up against his chest roughly as his bulging arms snaked their way around her tiny waist, her hands grabbing his forearms for support, her ass slammed up against his engorged phallus.
Lust riding him like a mad man, he roughly spun her around she lost her balance and clung to him to prevent herself from falling.
He had one arm wrapped tightly around her, the other pulling her luscious lips closer and closer to his. His eyes searching hers.
“My problem, Ms. High and Mighty, just happens to be you! I have done absolutely nothing’ to you and yet you’ve insulted me in every wh
ich way to Sunday!”
Her claw-like fingernails that were digging into his shoulders for balance as he upbraided her hide, made Nigel ground his huge basket against her pelvis involuntarily.
To get away from him, she dipped low and his body followed as she pushed at his hard chest.
He lifted her by her waist till her lips were mere nano-inches from his, her feet dangling a good five inches above the floor. Her fingernails dug deeper into his flesh once more to cause him pain.
“Put me down you giant freak! I did not insult you! She shrieked in his face. “I have never said anything to-”
“Didn’t insult me?!” He interrupted her rudely, dropping her. “You just did! You just called me a giant freak!” he stated loudly in her face as she righted herself from her near fall.
Now she was pissed.
"You have the intelligence of a fucking gnat!" She yelled out at him
"And you have the attitude of a two-dollar hoe!"
She gasped and swung her right hand towards his face.
Before her hand could connect to his face, he grabbed her by her wrist and pulled her up bodily against him once again, where her soft curves molded to his hard muscles once again.
Nigel pulled her up against his hard body by her left ass cheek and twisted her arm to her back to hold her in place.
They were so caught up in their drama, that they became aware of each other at the same time.
How they were both panting heavily in each other’s face like they’d been fucking hard.
How her soft breasts were crushed upon his hard chest. Like hers, his manly nipples were hard as well.
“Boy! You best let go of me. Now!” This time she didn’t shout or yell, she merely stated in his face that he did.
Nigel let her go, alright. But not before he let her slide down his entire front to get to the floor.
On her way down, Debbie felt every bulging muscle sliding against her spandex leggings and top.
Disgusted and uncomfortably horny, she pushed away from him once more and he let her go.
The bright yellow light of the AC closet shone brightly overhead as unexpected emotions flashed constantly across the face of the thug.
No…boy?
Nope….Man, yes man that scared the living daylights out of her.
He took a step towards her and she took one back to prevent him from coming to close.
Breasts heaving, Debbie backed up and away from the angry? Or horny? Not sure...man-sized child stalking her like a predator in the wild does its prey.
She never cowered or whimpered nor cried.
She felt the walls of the studio closing in on her. Her breathing came fast and hard.
He locked eyes with her and stalked her until her back connected to the open door of the closet door.
“No.” she whispered in a little voice as a shiver raced up her spine. Was it anger, or something else? She couldn’t say.
She feared greatly that it was something else that had her panting like a spent lover after a night of unbridled…...intimacy.
Something she had successfully avoided at all costs.
What‘s wrong with her? He thought as he watched her hyperventilate herself to hysteria.
Then it hit him.
Oh God!!! Not another traumatized female, he thought.
How could that be? She was a dancer for crying out loud.
He felt sick and unmanned and wanted to assure her that he would never physically hurt her.
Without thinking he took a step towards her to reassure her that she was not in any danger, hand outstretched to touch her shoulder where she in return cringed away from him.
Something flickered in his golden eyes as he stopped short, his hand dropped to his side, a bit shocked at the fear, which had, at last, entered her eyes.
“I...I’m sorry. I would never…” his voice faded away. He turned around and walked away, leaving her alone in the dark.
13
Walking down through the dark back alleys of his home town, Harold never heard nor saw the metal bat that was swung directly at his face.
He did, however fortunate, duck in time but was hit with the bat across his back anyway. He stumbled and landed face down onto the filthy street.
"Heard you were looking for me. Well, here I am!!" He was kicked in the ribs and got the wind knocked out of him for good measure when he tried to get off the ground. "That's for all you've ever done to me or my mother, you stupid fuck!" He heard the voice but couldn't believe it.
So the bastard had heard what he did to the bitch he had married after he'd left.
Good to know.
Now, if he could just get off the ground, he would end what he started years ago and never finished because of his interfering father.
Turning over onto his back, Harold looked up into the night sky seeking the face of the biggest pain in his life.
The metal scraping against the asphalt road told him the little punk was walking around him well out of reach. "Get up." that deep voice vibrated in his head.
"I said get up!" he shouted when Harold didn’t move fast enough to suit him.
"Fuck you!" Harold shouted back which bought him all the time he needed.
The punk raised the bat once more as Harold was slowly climbing to his feet and swung but missed.
Harold rushed him at the same time and they both slammed into the sidewall of a building, causing the bat to crash to the ground with a resounding tingling sound.
The sound of fist meeting hard flesh filled the back alley as the two men fought for more than just their lives but supremacy.
Their anger and hatred towards each other was mutual and burned like acid in their respective throats.
Harold didn't know nor did he want to know how, but soon he got the upper hand on the scum bag and now had him locked in a sleeper hold.
All he needed was a few minutes to have the big fuck pass out so he could use the bat to smash his brain in.
The flash of the police car at his back caught him by surprise.
When one cop got out of the car in a rush, with regret, Harold let his victim go and rushed down the alley, leaving Nigel coughing and gasping for air.
◆◆◆
Lucy awoke in a hospital bed, patched up and hurting, the love of her life staring daggers into her.
Five days later, he was allowed to take her to his house for a full recovery, a place her soon to be ex-husband would never dare to contact her in.
Now as she laid here in his house a week later, feeling much better, Lucy contemplated how was she going to live her life with the threat of Harold stalking her and fighting her ever-constant growing attractions to a man who was forbidden to her.
14
That same week…
Debbie couldn’t sleep at night. She kept tossing and turning.
The image of the wounded pride of Nelson?... Nigel- was burned into her brain, along with her other problems and was causing her major loss of sleep, which made her cranky and rude most of the day.
This evening, however, she was going to change that, one way or the other.
For the last two days, he had sent her a large bouquet of white roses. She knew what it meant. He was asking for forgiveness and a fresh start.
The question was how was he even able to afford those being he was completing community hours at the studio for money?
After requesting an early vacation from her boss at the Museum, Debbie decided to take some steps to help her situation out.
First off, she dealt with Kiki, who swore up and down that she was not responsible for the used stick.
Debbie, not trusting the little light skirt, took her to a doctor for proof. When the results came back negative, she threatened to skin the girl alive if she ever found one of those things in her house again.
Kiki, clearly not shaken up by her sister’s violent outburst in the doctor’s office, stated that she wouldn’t even think about sex without Debbie’s permission.
That had been two days ago.
Later, she felt bad when Nigel hadn’t shown up for work or practice since that unfortunate night. Yes, Jaime had told her the next day of the boy’s decision to help out after he begged, then pleaded on Nigel’s mother’s health and welfare which made her feel even worse.
However, there was something about that kid that just kept bothering her and just wouldn’t let her lower her guard around him. Even when she thought about him, she would get a little frightened. There was something in her that just didn’t trust him.
Especially, once she started having those nightmares about her dad being killed again. For some odd reason, she would always see herself rounding the corner as a huge monster came charging down at her, all covered in blood.
But that had been during the night.
Now she was here, in Alpine, trying to look through the thick glass –planed oak door of a huge Georgian mansion, at his so-called place of residence. She had driven up the perfect brick drive almost right up to the front door to apologize once more to a convicted felon.
Stepping out of her car, Debbie was flabbergasted at the beautiful architectural structure standing on what looked like a whole lot more than a few acres.
With the garden lights strategically placed to highlight the house’s sand-colored stone veneer and majestic height, she could see the unique beauty of the house.
There seemed to be two separate sections of the house. The main house facing the drive and another long building was to her left. She could see three stone covered chimneys stick out of the mansion roof.
From the size of the house, there seemed to be an entire block of her neighborhood apartments in that one building.
How had a boy from the ghetto come to be living in a house like this in Alpine, was anybody’s wild guess? A somewhat muted drilling sound could be heard coming from somewhere in the house.
Could he be squatting in some rich man’s house without the owner being aware? Or could this be where one of the drug barons of New Jersey lived and Nigel was a high ranking…. Associate in the gang and he lived here?