by K. Langston
Relief fills me at the sound of the bell. I turn back to the class, trying my hardest to summon a smile. “I’ll see you all tomorrow. Don’t forget your essays are due back on Wednesday.”
Most of them ignore me, except for one or two female students who offer me a smile of pity. I’m surprised when Brandon Gaines, Jamal’s best friend¸ walks past and gives me the slightest wave.
“Brandon, wait,” I call out, stopping him before he can walk out of the room.
He comes to a halt at the door but doesn’t turn back to me. I expect him to continue on and ignore me like everyone else, but he turns around and walks back to my desk.
“Yes, Miss Bradshaw.”
“Can you have a seat, please?” I point to the desk in front of me. “I’d like to talk to you for a minute.”
He glances at his watch before taking the seat across from me. “Yeah, but I can’t stay long. I have practice.”
“No problem. I just…I wanted to see how you’re doing? How are you handling everything about Jamal?”
Pain flashes in his eyes but he shrugs and attempts to act indifferent. “It sucks, but what’re you gonna do?”
“I noticed there was some distance between you two over the last few months.”
His eyes dart to the floor, focused on the sole of his shoe. “People go their separate ways sometimes.”
I have a feeling it’s more than that. They had been friends since they were small boys, but I nod and accept his excuse, not wanting to push. “Do you know who he was hanging out with?”
“No, and to be honest I didn’t care. He stopped returning my calls and hanging out with me. He even stopped showing up for track. So I didn’t bother anymore, but I guess I should’ve.”
His hands ball into fists and my heart clenches in my chest. I know he’s hurting far more than he wants to let on.
I reach over to grab his hand, trying to offer comfort, but he jumps up from his seat before I can make contact with him. “Listen, I have to go or I’m gonna be late. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Before I can return his goodbye he’s gone.
“Bye,” I say quietly to the empty room.
With a heavy sigh I start packing up, ready to get out of here for the day, when the sound of a throat being cleared interrupts me.
“Knock, knock.”
My gaze swings to the door and a genuine smile finally graces my face when I see my best friend, Tania. “Hey.”
She strolls in, looking like her perfect, manicured self, and wraps me in a hug. “How was your first day back?”
I groan. “Don’t ask.”
“That bad?”
I take a step back and resume the task of packing up my things. “Yeah, worse than I thought. They all hate me.”
Tania puts her hand on my shoulder. “They don’t hate you. They love you. Well most of them, the ones that matter. There’s just a lot of animosity right now, especially after the allegations surrounding Daryl Baker and now… Jamal.”
I shake my head, frustrated by it all. “It’s not even remotely the same thing, Tania, and you know it. Pap wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t felt threatened. It’s breaking my heart that people are accusing him of being racist.”
“Honey, if Pap were racist we wouldn’t have been friends since kindergarten.”
“Exactly, but no one else sees that.”
“Because people are angry and they want to blame someone so they’re blaming Pap, but anyone who knows y’all knows neither of you have a hateful bone in ya. What happened to Jamal is awful, and my heart goes out to his family, but he should not have been there in the first place. This has nothing to do with race and everything to do with right and wrong. I’m certain people will see that over time.”
“You’re right,” I agree quietly.
“Heard about you going to the cemetery.”
My eyes snap to hers in surprise. “How do you know?” I haven’t had a chance to talk to her about what happened yet.
“Grayson Taylor told Terrell.”
I perk up at the sound of Grayson’s name and my tummy dips with excitement. Terrell is Tania’s older brother, and well, mine too—in every way that matters. He also works for the sheriff’s department. Actually, when Sheriff Dixon told me he was going to assign an officer to go with me I had expected him to choose Terrell. However, I’m glad it was Grayson he chose. I loved getting to know more about the town’s golden boy that I’ve always watched from afar. He’s as kind and strong as I imagined him to be, at least from what I’ve seen. He can also be pretty intimidating when he wants to be.
A swarm of butterflies take root inside of me when I think about our date this Friday. I still can’t believe he asked me, especially when I was such a stammering idiot, but he didn’t seem to notice. At least it didn’t seem like it by the way he was looking at me, like he wanted to kiss me…devour me. A flash of heat invades my body when I think about the growl that fled from his mouth.
“It seems you are holding out on me, Olivia Bradshaw,” Tania says with a knowing smile. “Spill it, sister.”
Crap! Pull it together, Liv.
I roll my eyes at her inquisition. “There’s nothing to tell. Sheriff Dixon wanted me escorted to the cemetery and he assigned Grayson the job.”
She quirks a disbelieving brow at me, knowing I’m full of it. “That’s what has you blushing like a schoolgirl?”
I shrug. “He also may have come by the market yesterday, and…asked me out,” I tell her, trying to act cool, but inside I’m bursting at the seams with excitement.
“No way! Are you kidding me, Liv?” I nod, a huge smile taking over my face. Her shriek of excitement has me throwing my cool façade out the window and sharing in her squeals. “Oh my God, I am so happy for you!” She pulls me in for a tight hug. “Finally, my girl’s goin’ on a date!”
I roll my eyes. “You say that like I’ve never been on one.”
“It’s been a while.”
“It hasn’t been that long,” I say defensively. She quirks another disbelieving brow at me. “All right, so it’s been a while. But I was collecting my pride after what a fool Clint made of me, and I’ve been keeping busy with my jewelry and other things. I’ve been content.”
“Well, now you can get busy with Deputy Taylor.”
“Oh Lord, will you stop.” I laugh and give her a playful shove.
Before we can say any more, my intercom beeps and the principal’s voice booms through my classroom. “Olivia, can you please come to my office before you head home?”
Tania’s face scrunches at the screechy sound of our boss’s voice and she drags her nails down the air, pretending it’s a chalkboard.
I bite back a chuckle and try to steady my voice. “Sure thing, Veronica, I’m on my way now.”
“The Queen Bee has summoned.” Tania mocks.
I quickly gather up all of my things. “She probably wants to talk about the note I received on my desk earlier this morning.” The thought has my good mood souring fast.
“What note?”
I shake my head. “Don’t ask.”
Tania’s earlier amusement vanishes and concern quickly takes its place. “You okay, Liv? It wasn’t a threat, was it?”
I wave away her worry. “No, no. Just name-calling. Nothing that hasn’t been spray-painted on our barn over the last week.”
Anger sparks in her dark eyes. “If you need me to give someone a beat down, you know I got yo back,” she says, getting back to her sassy self.
I chuckle. “Yes, I always know you have my back, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
She smiles and slings an arm around my neck. “Come on, I’ll walk you there on my way out.”
We walk arm in arm down the hallway, laughing about the horrible blind date she had the other night. “I’m tellin’ ya, girl, the man had no class. Not only did his beady eyes never stray from my chest but he made me pay for my portion of dinner.”
“Are you serious?”
“H
ell yes, I am. I mean, who does that?”
I shake my head. “Not someone you go on a second date with, that’s for sure.”
“Girl, that man better never dial my phone number, or I’ll sic T on his cheap ass.” I giggle, knowing how protective Terrell is of his little sister. “I’ll bet Grayson Taylor pays for a girl’s meal, and also gives her a little something to remember him by.”
My step falters and my face flames at the thought. I elbow her lightly when she laughs at my reaction.
“All right, I’m done messin’ with ya. C’mere, girl.” She pulls me in for a hug as we reach the office. “Take care and call me later. Let’s hit up a movie or something this weekend.”
“I’d like that.”
“See ya, babe,” she says, laying a smacking kiss on my cheek.
“Bye, Tania.”
She gives me a feisty wave over her shoulder as she strolls out the front doors. I walk into the office and knock on Veronica Robinson’s closed door, aka ‘the Queen Bee’, as Tania likes to call her.
“Come in.”
I enter with a smile that quickly dies when I see the superintendent of the school board is with her. “Mr. Jacobson,” I blurt in surprise, confused as to why he would be here.
“Miss Bradshaw.” He nods in greeting.
“Come in, Olivia, and close the door,” Veronica says, her usually bland expression more impassive.
My stomach sinks with dread, instinct telling me I’m not going to like whatever this is about.
I close the door behind me then take the seat across from her. “I’m glad I caught you before you left. Mr. Jacobson and I have been discussing the severity of the situation.”
“The note, you mean?” I ask, wanting to clarify exactly what situation we’re talking about.
“Well that too, yes, but more so the situation that our school is in right now, after the incident with Jamal.”
“What do you mean?” Annoyance flashes in her eyes, as if she shouldn’t have to elaborate. “I’m asking because we have lost students from this school before. So I’m trying to understand what you’re meaning by the severity of the situation.”
“Listen, Miss Bradshaw,” Mr. Jacobson starts, “due to the circumstances surrounding Jamal’s death, we feel it would be in your best interest to not teach here anymore.”
My jaw drops in disbelief. “What? You’re firing me? But why? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I’m sorry, Olivia,” Veronica says, not sounding sorry at all. “To keep the peace at this school it’s best for everyone. A lot of people here really cared about Jamal—”
“So did I.” I shout, losing my patience. “How dare you insinuate otherwise. What happened with Jamal is heartbreaking but my grandfather didn’t do anything wrong. He thought we were in danger. He was just protecting us.”
“From a boy?” she asks in a snarky tone that has me grinding my teeth.
“We had no idea who it was.”
“How could you not know?” she snaps. “You have taught him for the past year, Olivia!”
Her accusation has my temper spiking to a whole new level. “I wasn’t out there and it was dark, we didn’t even get a good look at them. You have no right to accuse differently. And for the record, my grandfather has been cleared of all charges.”
“Well, that’s no surprise.”
“That’s enough, Veronica!” Mr. Jacobson scolds, though it’s clear he feels the same way she does.
I shake my head, not believing any of this. “I love these students. I have bent over backward raising money for this school so these kids could have more, and spent countless hours of my free time with them, because I care. You have no right to do this.”
“This is best for everyone, especially you, Miss Bradshaw. Just look at the note that was left for you this morning, on your desk,” Mr. Jacobson remarks.
I look to Veronica. “And did you question De’Shawn Miller about it?”
Her chin lifts. “No, I didn’t. I can’t just go around accusing people when I don’t have proof.”
“I didn’t say to accuse, I told you to ask him about it. He’s been the most hostile toward me since I returned.”
“Which is why it’s best that you teach somewhere else. This was bound to happen sooner or later.”
“How so?” I grind out, curious as to why she would feel that way.
“This is a predominantly black school. In all honesty, you really don’t belong here. You never have.”
A disbelieving breath escapes me as I shake my head. I stand, refusing to listen to any more of this bullshit. “You aren’t going to get away with this. What you’re doing is prejudice and illegal. I’m going to fight you on this. I’ll fight for my job.” Turning, I storm out of her office before I say something I can’t take back.
My heart pounds furiously as I make my way to the faculty parking lot. It isn’t until I’m inside my car that I let go, allowing my tears to flow freely. I cry for me, for Pap, and for the injustice of it all. In a matter of days my entire world has crumbled around me, and I’m tired of feeling like I have to defend Pap’s actions as well as my own. It’s not right, none of this is, and I meant what I said back there, I will fight for my job. I’m not going to let them dismiss me, as if I did something wrong. My job matters to me.
Those kids matter to me.
Holding on to that resolve, I pull out of my parking space and head home. As soon as I turn on Green River, the back road I take every day on my way home, my tire blows. “You have got to be shitting me!” I drop my forehead on the steering wheel with a thud, wondering what else could go wrong today.
With a frustrated huff, I step out of the car and walk around to my trunk for my spare. As I lean inside to grab the tire, the sound of a vehicle fast approaching stops me in my tracks.
No one ever drives down this road but Pap and me.
Spinning around, I cup a hand over my eyes to block the glare of the sun and see a big black truck slam on its brakes only a few feet in front of me. Its screeching tires have my instincts kicking in. Just as all doors swing open I turn and run to get back in my car, but I don’t make it. A scream rips from my throat when someone grabs me from behind.
“Shut up, bitch!” A meaty hand brutally covers my mouth, the man’s angry voice sending icy terror coursing through my veins. “Hurry up and put the fucking bag over her head. Hurry!”
“No!” I cry out behind the pressure of his sweaty palm, struggling against the arms locked tight around me.
I briefly catch a glimpse of someone dressed all in black before a burlap sack is thrown over my head. I fight with everything I have as my feet drag on the ground, kicking and screaming until my throat is raw.
“Shut her the fuck up!”
As soon as the order is given, a hard object strikes me at the back of my head. The pain is so sharp that my knees buckle beneath me as darkness dances along the edge of my vision. My struggle weakens by the single blow. A pair of hands grab my feet and carry me the rest of the way.
I yelp as I’m roughly thrown in the back of the truck. Another bout of strength surfaces when I feel my wrists being tied together. “No, stop, please!” I beg, fighting the cruel hands grabbing me.
“Hold her the fuck still.”
A hard boot meets my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. “Stop moving, bitch!”
My mouth opens on a silent scream, trying to take in a breath that I can’t grasp. I’m flipped to my side as a heavy weight settles on top of me to hold me in place. A rough hand shoves up my dress and cups me painfully between my legs. A new kind of fear grips me, drawing a pleading whimper from my throat.
Please, God, this can’t be happening.
“Hurry the fuck up! We’re running out of time!” someone snaps.
“I got it. Go, go, go!”
The weight crushing me cruelly into the hard bed of the truck lifts, easing the pressure from my lungs. Seconds later, the vehicle jerks forward at a fast speed. I
cry out at every bump we hit, my throbbing, broken body bouncing painfully. I fight to keep conscious, praying someone stops them, and someone will find me.
It isn’t long before we come to a stop. The sound of the tailgate dropping is the only warning I get before I’m dragged out and carried by two men. I keep still, trying to save my strength for when I have a chance to escape.
“Stop here. This tree is perfect,” someone orders before I’m dropped to the ground.
I bite back a scream as I hit the earth with a hard thud, the impact jarring through my shattered body.
“Set the whore up on her knees first.”
I’m yanked up and situated on my knees with my wrists tied in front of me, rough hands gripping my arms to keep me upright. My eyes squeeze shut as the bag is ripped off my head, the brightness of the sun making my stomach rebel and my head throb.
“Look at me, bitch!”
With a shaky breath, I open my eyes and squint at the man before me, my gaze foggy from the powerful hit to the head.
He strides toward me with dangerous intent. Everything about him is blurry as he kneels down before me. “Olivia Bradshaw, granddaughter to Walter Bradshaw,” he muses.
I blink, trying to clear the fog so I can get a better look at him, but can’t. “Who are you?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
“I’m here to deliver justice for my boy Jamal.”
Oh God. I should have known.
“Please. Don’t do this,” I plead with a whimper. “I swear, we—”
“Shut up!” He strikes me hard, backhanding me across my battered face.
My head falls forward on a groan, my neck too weak to hold it up. A fist twists in my hair, pulling my head back with a sharp yank.
The man in front of me gets to his feet again. “Tell me, Olivia, did Jamal beg for his life, too?”
I try to answer, but struggle for words as darkness attempts to claim me.
“Answer him, you dirty bitch.” A hard boot connects with my lower back, the force so strong I’d swear my body just snapped in half.
“It was an accident. I swear,” I sob, barely managing to get the words out.
“Don’t you fucking lie! Your granddaddy shot him because he was black. He never even gave him warning.”
