G STREET CHRONICLES PRESENTS
THE ENCLAVE OF JYME
“From Love to Loathe Series”
by
Phoenix Rayne
From Love to Loath Series Part 1
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From Love to Loathe Series Part 2
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Copyright 2015 Phoenix Rayne
Published by:
G Street Chronicles, LLC
P.O. Box 1822
Jonesboro, GA 30237-1822
www.gstreetchronicles.com
[email protected]
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without prior written consent from both the author, and publisher G Street Chronicles, except brief quotes used in reviews.
This is a work of fiction. It is not meant to depict, portray or represent any particular real person. All the characters, incidents, and dialogues are the products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any references or similarities to actual events, entities, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, entities, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author/publisher.
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Table of Contents
From Love to Loath Series Part 1
From Love to Loathe Series Part 2
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Enclave
enˌklāv
A portion of territory within or surrounded by a larger territory
whose inhabitants are culturally or ethnically distinct.
A place or group that is different in character from those surrounding it.
Chapter 1
My face was lost in her jet black hair. She hated for me to stare into her eyes for a long period of time, so I buried my face in her hair. She said when I stared into her eyes, it made her uncomfortable. I was too big for her in more ways than one.
Her frail body was a prisoner undermine. There was no physical way she could be on top of me right now. This was one of our many tests. Her light brown skin was luminous in the moonlight. We had both only been with each other; this was our gift to one another. We’d been together since we were toddlers and our families had been friends long before then.
I tried pushing inside of her as slowly as I could. She gripped the sheets and tried her best to bite back her tears. I stopped pushing and took a breath; I wanted to pound every inch of me into her so fucking bad. My dick was rock hard, and I needed to be all the way in her. But I knew better; I knew she couldn’t handle all of me.
I kissed the side of her tear-streaked face and she whimpered. I took a few quick breaths trying to calm myself down, and then I pushed in a little deeper. I heard a ripping noise and froze. She uttered a gut-wrenching cry and I stopped breathing. She kept crying. I pulled out of her slowly, and she started screaming just like the last time. I kissed the side of her wet face again, and then got up from the bed. I picked my boxers up from the floor and went out to the hall. I dialed the number and waited for her to answer.
“Hello?” she said.
“Mom.”
“I’ll be right there.”
Then she hung up. I pulled my boxers back on and waited. Elle was screaming for me from the bedroom, but I couldn’t go back in there. We had tried this so many times, and the same thing happened over and over again. Elle had insisted on doing this once a month, and we had been going at this almost nine years straight and it wasn’t getting any better. I was too fucking big for her small frame. My family had been cursed with this for generations. Some people think guys with big dicks get all the girls, but that’s not the case here. Those of us who grew up on the Reservation, we call it the Res. People on the reservation have been telling horror stories about the men in my family for years now. The girls are afraid of me and even the kids keep a distance from me. I’m a joke in our small community.
People said things like, “Hey, if you hook up with Lil Sampson, he’d turn your puss into big Sampson.” “Fucking little Sampson will have you walking bowlegged.” “Want a free hysterectomy? Fuck Lil Sampson.”
I heard shit like that constantly and so did Elle. Everyone knew our story and I hated it. Nothing was ever kept a secret here on the Res. It felt like being in one giant soap opera.
“Lil Sampson, please don’t be mad at me,” Elle cried from my bedroom. I rushed back over to the door and went to the bed.
“Shhhhh,” I wrapped my arms around her, trying my best to soothe her.
“I’m sorry.”
“Elle, don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault; it’s all mine.”
“No, it isn’t,” someone said from behind us. I turned around and saw my mom with one of the medicine women. She told me she would be on hand just in case, and this was a case for her to fix. I felt horrible doing this to Elle every single month, but she insisted. Elle said we had to work through this slowly. I was trying, but it wasn’t working. The medicine woman and my mother both wore blank looks.
I pulled away from Elle and she clung to me. “Please don’t leave me. You always leave me in here with them by myself.”
“Elle, let them work. I’ll be right in the other room, I promise.”
“Don’t,” she begged. I pulled her hand from my arm and she exploded into hysterics. I couldn’t bear to hear her like that. I left, shutting the door behind me. I went into the laundry room, found a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, put them on, and shoved my feet into some old sneakers. Elle screamed at the top of her lungs, and I heard my mother trying to soothe her. I went to the front door and slammed it as hard as I could behind me. I walked down the street and entered into the small forest. I found a spot deep into the trees where no one could see me and sat down on the damp ground.
I had been there maybe five minutes or so when I heard someone coming up behind me. I didn’t even turn around; I didn’t give a fuck who it was.
“Hey, man,” Sheen said. Sheen was one of my oldest friends. We were in Kindergarten together and were playmates before then. He knew the scoop and understood my frustration. He sat down on a nearby rock and stayed silent. After a few minutes, I finally looked up at him. He was staring out towards the ocean. We couldn’t really see it that well through the trees, but we could hear it loud and clear.
“Some kids said a whale came up towards the shoreline yesterday,” he said. �
�Yeah, the kids are scared now; they think it’s a killer whale and that it’s going to eat them.”
We both sat there in silence. I knew Sheen was trying to get me to talk, but I wasn’t in the mood. He slid his fingers through his blood red Mohawk. Sheen’s Mohawk went from his scalp to his ankles; he had been growing it since he was little. He had dyed it red a few years back and it’s been getting redder and redder ever since. Sheen had tribal tattoos all over his body; and from a stranger’s eye, he looked dangerous, like someone who should be avoided. But in all honesty, he was the nicest guy I knew.
Plus, he’s always been lucky when it came to the ladies and was constantly explaining himself to his wife. Sheen had been married for two years now, and he hadn’t slowed down with the girls for a second.
Before his wife, he was dating this girl who used to live on the Res but who moved away some years back. I didn’t really know her, but was familiar with her family. They always thought they were better than everyone else. They used the reservation to their advantage. They claimed to be Native when it benefited them. They were Natives when it came to getting money from the government; they were Natives when it came to getting land from the government; and they were Native when it came to voting. I don’t remember the girl’s name, but Sheen was in love with her. He never admitted it to us, but during one of his drunken nights, he called her crying and begging for her to take him back. She must have told him okay because he begged for us to drop him off at her house in the city. We had to finally convince him that he was married now and that he couldn’t go over to her house. He wasn’t himself for a whole month after that. The guys and I knew this girl had hit him hard. He didn’t really want to hang out anymore; we had to go over to his house and make him come with us. About six months later, he seemed to finally get over her and bounced back to his old self.
“I told them I would go out there with them next time and protect them from the killer whale.”
“Don’t no fucking whale come that close to the surface, and you know it,” I said.
Sheen started laughing. “I know that, but those damn kids are preparing for a whale attack.” he chuckled.
I smiled and looked up to the sky.
“Same ole, same ole with Elle, huh?”
I nodded.
“Look, man, it’s going to work out; it always does in situations like this.”
“Yeah, like it worked out for you?” I snapped.
“Look, I made my fucking bed, and I’m lying in it.”
“Yeah, every fucking night,” I said.
“I got fucking responsibilities. Everyone don’t have the luxury to go as they fucking please. I got kids and a wife, man.”
“And I don’t have responsibilities?” I stood. “I’ve been taking care of my fucking family since I was twelve, asshole,” I pounded my fist against my chest.
“I know that,” Sheen stood up. I walked up on Sheen because I wanted to stare this fucker in the face after the god-damned remark he just made.
“I didn’t have the fucking luxury to be a fucking kid or lead a normal life like everyone else. My dad was a fucking drunk and still is. I’ve been feeding four god damned mouths since I was twelve, fucker.”
“I know that, man. I didn’t mean it like that,” Sheen explained.
“Well, how the fuck did you mean it then?”
We stood nose to nose now.
“I just meant your business is going on strong now. You have a couple dozen people working for you. You can come and go as you please. You don’t have a wife and kids to answer to. You answer to no one, Lil Sampson.”
“So, I’m just supposed to leave my mother and sister here to fend for themselves? Fuck you, Sheen. I’m not that self-absorbed.”
I’m a crab and salmon fisherman. I’ve been fishing since I was in grade school. I started my very own fishing company when I was a preteen. We fished all day and night on Thursdays, and then we sold the crab and fish over the weekend at the fish market. In the beginning, all we did was sale the fish to the buyers; but I learned and studied the business. People were always in a hurry, and they wanted to come to the market and buy ready-prepped fish. We started cleaning and seasoning the fish for those who wanted it. Our sales started doubling quickly, and I had to hire a few more men. When I was in high school, male strippers were popular with the older women. I figured that women liked to see half-dressed men bumping and grinding, so my cousin Loon found us a choreographer to help us with a routine, and we practiced hard. Loon was more civilized and he hung out with a different type of crowd. He liked the finer things in life, and wasn’t afraid to work hard to get them. During our dance classes, we wore tight tanks and board shorts and the women loved it. The sales flew through the roof and we’ve been going strong ever since.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is that you could live somewhere else; somewhere like the city. You could run your business from there. Man, if I could leave here I would. This place will do nothing but drag you down. I remember how we used to be, going up to the city and stealing those rich boys’ money. I miss that life. And you fit right in with them. They loved you; it was like they wanted to give you their money,” Sheen was grinning from ear to ear.
“They would be all pumped up on whatever they had taken and they thought they were, The kings of the world,” Sheen mimicked the Titanic movie voice. He spread his arms out and shit. I couldn’t help but laugh at his crazy ass. “You remember that shit, and you loved it just as much as we did,” he said.
And I really couldn’t say anything because he was right. We used to race for fun. I thought back to the day when Loon came up to me a year after high school and told me about some guys he had met in the city.
“Hey, I need to talk to you about something,” Loon said.
“What is it?” I asked as we emptied the crab cages. A few of the other guys stared at Loon and then me. Everyone stopped working, and now they were all staring at me.
“Shit, who died?” I teased. They were all so still and so quiet that it freaked me the fuck out.
“Shit, who died?” I asked frantically.
“No one died,” Loon assured me. I relaxed a little and tried to start back with the crabs, but no one was moving.
“What?” I asked them.
“I met these guys a couple weeks ago in the city,” Loon said. I stood there waiting for the rest. I took my wet gloves off because whatever it was Loon had to tell me I could tell it would be a minute before he got it out. He didn’t live on the Res anymore - he left as soon as he graduated - but he still worked for me...I knew he wouldn’t stay here long; Res life just wasn’t for him. We had been through a lot together and I think he understood me better than I understood my damn self. He was going to school online and was already talking about the next degree he wanted after this one.
“I was at this bike race and these guys --”
“Rich guys,” Kanoke interrupted him. Kanoke was my cousin too, but no relation to Loon, and he was the total opposite of Loon. Kanoke was reservation bound. He loved the Res life and wouldn’t change a thing. He was born here, and he would die here. Kanoke didn’t need the finer things in life like Loon did. Loon had to have better; something in him just wanted more to life. Kanoke didn’t give a fuck about school and barely went when we had to go. He was satisfied with his life and didn’t ask for anything more.
“They can’t even ride, Sampson. I mean the assholes can’t even fucking ride their bikes. And a few of them have Ducati’s.”
“What?” I said. The guys all started moving in closer when I sat down on one of the empty crab cages. I looked up at Loon and he looked around the boat at all the other guys before telling me more.
“They race for their bikes and cash. This one guy lost his bike, and he had to pay the guy $2000; and he paid him cash and gave him the title to his bike right there on the spot.
“What the fuck?” I said.
Loon just nodded. “And Sampson there were
hundreds of people out there. It’s like some serious underground shit. These little rich boys want to play Billy Bad Ass or something. They’re just giving their shit away; and the people watching have to pay a hefty fee as well. It’s like $30 a pop to watch the race.”
“How did you hear about this?” I asked.
“Through some guys I met at this bike event.”
We had all been riding bikes since we were kids. We road through the hills and mountains, and that’s the best way to learn how to ride. If you can ride through the mountains on your bike, you’re damn near a pro; and we’d been doing this almost ten years now.
“Well shit,” I said, scratching my head. I couldn’t believe these dumbasses were riding for their titles and then straight cash. Who were these guys, and what the hell was wrong with them?
“There’s a race this weekend if you want to go and see for yourself,” Loon said. And sure enough, we all went that weekend and saw it with our own eyes.
Loon was right, these guys would race anything. They raced dirt bikes, four wheelers, water scooters, and motorcycles. After a couple of weeks of observing, we started racing; Loon wanted to start right up to the motorcycles, but I convinced him to take it slowly. We began with the four wheelers, mastered that, and took over in the races. Second, we went in on the dirt bikes, then the water scooters, and mastered that; and finally we killed it on the motorcycles and owned it all.
We raced this way for about four years, and then the cops started sniffing around hard so we just let it all go. We had all made a small fortune and were content. We loved it and hated when it ended, but after a dozen fist fights and the cops closing in on us, we were all done with that life.
“Yep, those were the days,” I told Sheen. We heard a rustling noise coming in behind us and turned to face who was coming.
“Lil Sampson, we’re sending Elle up to her grandparents to heal for a bit,” my mom told me.
I watched her carefully; something was off. I must have really fucked Elle up this time. Mom turned around and went back the way she came. I started behind her and Sheen tugged at my arm.
The Enclave of Jyme (G Street Chronicles Presents) Page 1
