Black

by T. L Smith

  My mind is screaming no, but my body doesn’t care. It wants her. Any way I can take her.

  “Soft,” I say finally. She smiles, then slides down the strings that hold her nighty up and it drops to the floor, leaving her naked and wanting in front of me. I step closer, but she holds up her hand when I reach for her. Stopping me. She bends forward, kissing my chest, then works her way down. Kissing between my breast bone, then my belly, all the way down ‘til she’s on her knees. She kisses my cock, my breathing heavier than from her touching me. Her hands come up and grab my ass. Then she takes me, all of me, into her mouth and a loud groan escapes me.

  Fuck.

  Her hand on my ass, squeezing, her mouth wrapped around my cock, pleasing. I came to protect her, and now I’m here to fuck her. What a fucked up life I live.

  He allowed my hands on his body, to roam, to kiss, to touch. His face was pulled tight like my hands and mouth would hurt him, his hands dug into his thighs the entire time.

  He’s so broken, so unsure. Though now, now as I lay next to him on the floor of my living room with my hand on his chest, my leg draped over his, he isn’t tightly wound, he’s relaxed. And he’s looking at me, with such expression, more than I have ever seen on his face. I give his beard a pull, and he smirks at me and pulls me tighter to him.

  As I lay there after multiple orgasms, in complete bliss, I think of what a bad person I am. I was just with Robbie, I thought I could go to the next stage of our relationship with him, but I couldn’t. As I kissed him, I just kept thinking that this isn’t right. There was nothing there, not in the way Liam makes me feel. Even if he doesn’t know it yet, what we have is real. So unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

  I touch my lips, his fingers there not long ago. Wiping the lipstick away, removing the other man. Then he made me forget him when his lips touched mine and devoured me.

  “How do you love someone? Is it a feeling? Is it knowing?” he surprises me with his question. It takes me awhile to answer him, to gather the words I need. For him.

  “It feels like when you’re not with that person that something is missing. It feels like something inside you is crying. It feels like more than words can describe. You don’t know when you love someone, love is just a word. You feel it, you feel it like something is ripped into you, taken over, and holds something in you that no other can replace.” I turn to look at him. His eyes are shut and his expression soft, like the words I just described etched themselves onto him.

  “Is she as beautiful as you?” he asks, looking around at the toys scattered in the room.

  “She’s better,” I say, smiling.

  “I don’t believe it. Possibly the same,” is his retort.

  “You think I’m beautiful?” I nudge him.

  “I think you’re bewitching.” I turn to face him, but his eyes are closed.

  “Bewitching?”

  “Yes, you bewitch me. And I can’t seem to make it stop. Make it stop…” he pleads with me. His eyes are still closed tightly.

  “Can I have you?”

  “You already own me,” he says on a broken whisper.

  I wake to a knock on my door, and it doesn’t stop. The banging becomes louder and louder. I turn to see Liam asleep in my bed. He carried me in last night when I fell asleep on the floor with him. He kissed me awake when we reached the bedroom, and he made love to me. It was different than the last time. His eyes watched mine, intensity staring back at me. My hands held his hips, holding him to me. He kissed me until we both came, then sleep took us away with him tucked in next to me, making the world feel right.

  I sneak from the bed, trying not to wake him. When I open the door, Isabelle is standing there with tears running down her face. I look around for her father and don’t see him anywhere. She runs into my arms and almost knocks me over. I pick her up and cuddle her to me tightly.

  “Baby, what’s wrong? Where’s your father?” She hiccups a few times before she finally answers me.

  “I ran away, mommy, I want to live with you.” I hug her tight, my heart breaking and never wanting to let her go. Her school is only a few houses away, we walk her from my house on the days I have her. She must have memorized it. I take her to the kitchen and start to cook some pancakes. She sits on the bench and watches me, licking the batter from the whisk. Her tears are now dried up and there is a smile on her face.

  Liam walks out, dressed in only boxer briefs, and stops when he sees me. Then he looks to Isabelle. He smiles at her, and I think it’s the first real smile I’ve ever seen. She looks to him, then to me, then she smiles at him. He’s consuming, most people see him as a threat. Would run from him, but I want to run to him. Never let go, and hope like hell that he never lets me go, but would he catch me if I fall.

  “Hi, mister,” she says, waving the whisk around.

  “Hi,” he says, scratching his jaw. I smile. He seems nervous.

  “Isabelle, this is Liam.” He looks to me then, his face scrunches at my use of his name. He doesn’t like using that name and soon I will find out why.

  “Black,” he says.

  “No, Liam,” she corrects, and I want to laugh.

  “Isabelle ran away from home today. And I explained to her it’s not a good thing to do that. Bad things could happen. Aren’t I right?”

  “Yeah… um… bad things.” He shrugs his shoulders and turns to go back to the bedroom. Isabelle hops down and follows him.

  “You my mommy’s boyfriend?” she questions. I can hear shuffling. He’s trying to get dressed.

  “I don’t know, kid.”

  “I think you are. She hasn’t let me meet any of her boyfriends before.”

  “How many has your mom had?”

  “I don’t know, but I haven’t met any.”

  I’m about to laugh when my door is kicked in. The noise so shatteringly loud Liam runs from the room with Isabelle tucked under one arm. He looks at my shocked face, then passes her to me. He’s now fully dressed. He pockets something, it looks like a gun, as my heart rate picks up.

  A gun, around my child.

  “Where is she?” a voice screams. I place my hand on Liam’s arm and shake my head. I hand Isabelle back to him, and she tucks her head in the crook of his shoulders. Crying. He looks to me, then to the door.

  “Don’t go out there.”

  “I have to talk to him, please just calm her down.” I kiss her cheek and he looks at her sideways. I grab his hand and show him how to pat her back. He shakes his head and I walk out.

  Roger is standing there, his whole body tense, his fists clenched, his breathing is hissing through his nose. “You think you can take her from me? You think you can do that?”

  “I didn’t take her, Roger, she came to my house this morning. I was about to call you.”

  “Bullshit! You are nothing but a fucking whore. Spreading your legs for drugs to get my fucking child.” Liam steps out then, Isabelle tucked right into him. His hand is still patting her, and his face is the scariest thing I’ve seen. And it must be for Roger too, because he shuts up immediately, his face going white.

  “What did you just say?” The venom in his voice is spilling out. His hand is still patting her, calming her.

  “Black,” he says, looking at me then back to Liam.

  How does he know him?

  “What she said is true, we woke up to her this morning. And if I ever hear you say that again to the mother of your child, you will wish I hadn’t.” Roger’s head nods up and down, and I stand there stunned. My head is flying back and forth, wondering what’s happening. Roger has never shown fear to anyone, but fear is written all over him as he looks at Liam.

  I take Isabelle from Liam and kiss her and hand her to Roger. She apologizes and he accepts. She runs to the car outside, stopping to wave to Liam with a smile.

  “How do you know each other?” Liam’s head swings to mine and Roger smirks.

  “She doesn’t know?” he states, the devil shining straight through him.


  “Know what?”

  “Leave,” Liam barks at him. He moves straight away walking out and leaving the house. Liam goes to fix the door, totally ignoring my question.

  “Liam, how do you know him?”

  “You don’t want to know, Rose.”

  “I do, I really fucking do, Liam.”

  “Let me fix this door first. Go and change, then wait for me.”

  I do as he says as if I’m on autopilot. I change my clothes, make the bed, then clean the kitchen. He comes out when I hear the door close, and sits away from me on the opposite couch.

  “Are you going to talk?” I ask him. He’s watching me but not speaking.

  “I’m contemplating if it’s worth you knowing… if it’s worth losing you.”

  “Why would you lose me, Liam, when have I not been yours?” It’s true, even after all these years his kiss has never left my lips from the time I was sixteen years old. He shakes his head, his hands pulling down on his beard.

  “Tell me, Liam!”

  “I traded you.”

  I don’t know what to make of that. What does he mean?

  “Huh?” I question him.

  “Your husband sold you as a debt to be paid and I traded you for information.” My hands cling to the couch, my eyes open wide in shock.

  “Sold me?” I barely breathe.

  “Yes, I did a job for him. He couldn’t pay me, so he sold you… to me. I traded you.”

  “You didn’t want me?” I don’t know why that’s the only thing I ask, that’s all that seems to escape my lips.

  “Yes, I didn’t know, didn’t know it was you.” His head shakes, and he runs his hands through his dark hair, pulling it to the side and styling it and not even knowing it.

  “Explain it to me, Liam, explain it all right now.” My hands are shaking, I don’t understand what he’s talking about.

  “I kill people for a living, Rose. It’s my job. Roger hired me. I’m the most expensive and the best at what I do…” he pauses to look at me, his hands holding each other in front of him, and he’s bent over watching me.

  “I knew what you did was bad, but killing? I didn’t think it was that. How can you do that? How can you live with yourself after taking someone else’s life?” I thought I knew who he was. I was so wrong.

  “I live day by day, Rose. I don’t let anyone in. I don’t let anyone touch me. I lock myself from the world. No feelings are necessary.”

  “That’s why I can’t touch you? You don’t want to feel?” His nods

  “It’s real when someone touches you. When someone cares for you.”

  “Tell me the rest.”

  “As I said, you were payment. I had that payment collected, then sold. And before you ask, I didn’t know it was you. Full payment was made when I sold you.”

  He sold me? How did I not know this? My mind wondering why I can’t remember, then it slams into me.

  I was lying in bed, my daughter was screaming for me to wake up. But I was so tired, the last couple of days taking a toll on me, rendering me incapable of the slightest movement. I opened my eyes, and there she was, her beautiful blue eyes hovering over the top of me, her long blonde hair hanging down her cheeks. I would move for her, I would do anything for her.

  “Lay with Momma, baby,” I said, lifting the bed sheet, letting her climb in with me. She laid on my chest, singing me her new favorite lullaby she had learned at daycare. Her voice was wooing me to sleep again.

  I woke again with Isabelle not on me and the sheets pulled off. My arm was strapped, Roger sat at the end of the bed dressed in a suit, staring at me. He made me sick, I couldn’t stand him. Every time I opened my mouth, I was punished somehow or in some way. Last week it was a beating, followed by drugs, this week it was just drugs. I hated it the most when he fucked me when I was high. How he whispered in my ear what trash I was. But all the while still fucking me.

  “Where is she?” I barely squeezed out, the drugs he must have shot into me taking effect. He stood at the end of the bed, grabbed his shoes and placed them on.

  “I don’t want to see your face again. If I do, I will remove Isabelle from you permanently,” he threatened. I didn’t quite understand what it was he was talking about. He walked to me and looked down at me. His lips came inches from mine, and then he kissed me. And all I could do was sit there, stunned. What was going on? When his lips left mine, his palm of his hand connected with the side of my face knocking me back to the bed.

  “You couldn’t even make it real, one last time,” he seethed at me. I was still lost, I had no idea what was going on. “Don’t struggle too much, they won’t like that,” he said. He opened the door and there stood three men, all dressed in black biker vests covered their chests. The older one walked to me, assessed me. Then smiled. My eyes closed, and then I was gone.

  I woke this time to the needle being stuck into my arm. The older man who I last saw was sticking it in. Someone came in and called him Pres. Of what? I still didn’t understand. Why was I there? I just wanted to be back with my daughter.

  He left me high, coming back an hour later. Rubbing himself in front of me, then started to undress me. I slapped at him, managed to remove myself from his touch. He laughed and knocked me out.

  I didn’t know how much time had passed, all I knew was that I would do anything for my next hit. My skin was crawling, my body aching, and I was completely naked. I don’t remember what happened, I only got glimpses of me fighting the men off. Then nothing.

  I stayed for so long, what seemed like an eternity. Only getting fed when the Pres said he didn’t want me so skinny. That I was special. I didn’t believe him, though, he was sick—a sick old bastard. One I wanted to cut and punch as much as I did Roger. So much hate I had for two men, so much.

  My mind started to forget things, soon I was almost forgotten. No one visited me like they used to. I hadn’t seen myself in a mirror for months. I guessed my looks may have had something to do with that. I didn’t care, though. I didn’t want the attention from anyone. I just wanted the drugs.

  I forgot who I was most days, everything seemed to blur together.

  Then there was Black, the only thing that ended up clear. The only person who pulled me from that place.

  Her head is down, her body tight. Her head comes up slowly, her eyes mixed with anger, hurt, and frustration. She looks down to my hands and back up to me again.

  “You sold me to those men?” She remembers now, remember them. Her head shakes and before she gets a chance to speak, she jumps up. Fear written on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask her, staying seated so I don’t frighten her even more.

  “The man that took me. He… he was here yesterday. At my door.” Her hands fly to her mouth. She looks around, her eyes searching for something or someone.

  “I know.”

  Her head swings back to me. “You know? Know what?”

  “That he was here.”

  “How?”

  “I followed him, that’s the reason I was here.”

  “Are you here to save me, Liam Black?” She laughs, but her laugh isn’t a happy laugh though. It’s a mocking laugh. “After you sold me?” The laugh dies on her lips.

  “I don’t save people, Rose. I’m the fucking executioner.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  I stand in front of her. “What I do best, Rose. Execute.”

  She sits back down, her hands running through her hair nervously. She looks to me, then back to the floor, then to me again. “Who are they?” she asks.

  “Bad people. People with a lot of backing.”

  “I won’t see you ever again, will I?” She knows the truth, it’s in her eyes. Once I go down that path, there’s no way out of it.

  “No, you won’t.”

  “What if that’s not what I want?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does, Liam… it does.” A tear slips from her eyes and she doesn’t bother to
wipe it away.

  “Do you want a life with Isabelle?”

  She doesn’t hesitate when she answers, “Yes.”

  “That’s what I will give you. I will make it right, reverse the wrong that happened to you.”

  “But I lose you?”

  “You do.”

  “Do you think you could have loved me, Liam Black?” More tears fall down her cheeks now.

  “I do, Rose Miller, ever since I was sixteen.” She sobs now, tears staining her face. I walk forward and wipe them away with my thumb. Her hand reaches up and captures my hand.

  “Don’t make me choose.”

  “You don’t have to. I’ve already decided, Rose.”

  She grabs my hand and takes me back to her bedroom, her red sheets a mess from where we slept. She pulls me down with her, and I tuck her into me. And we just lay there, no need for more words. She hugs me, and I hug her. I turn her head to me and lay my lips to hers. She tastes of maple syrup from the pancakes. She opens her mouth and kisses me. The salty tears are what I taste next, but I don’t stop, neither does she.

  She climbs on top of me, removing her dress, now completely naked. I didn’t expect this, didn’t think she would want to know me after what I told her, but here she is kissing me with tears, loving me like I’m a man.

  She’s never been on top, always below. I’ve always had the control, but she’s now taking it away, and all my clothes with it. There’s no foreplay needed, this isn’t a game, this is what she wants. She slides straight onto me, gasping as she does. Her head goes backward, tears still run down her face. I pull her to me and kiss her face, kissing away all the pain I have single headedly handed her without knowing it.

  “I can’t erase you,” she whispers, pleasure taking over her body. I lift up and slam into her, giving her the pleasure she desires, then pull her down, sliding in and out of her.

  “Don’t then.”