The Enclave of Jyme (G Street Chronicles Presents)

by Phoenix Rayne

  I wasn’t in running gear with my white Henley shirt, dark jeans and polo boots; but I went running anyway. When I made it to the beach, I took off my boots and set them next to a couple of boulders. I ran up and down the beach. I thought about why I came back, and I didn’t know why. I loved my family, but this reservation brought back so many unwanted memories. I thought I was happy with Elle, but that was all fake and I didn’t even really know what happiness with someone really was. My boys thought I was a sellout and my mother thought I hated my heritage. None of these accusations was true. I was not a sellout; I knew exactly where I came from and I loved my native culture; it made me the man that I am today.

  On my way back to the house, I took the path through the trees instead. I sat in the middle of the clearing on a stump. I maybe should have told the guys what I was up to, but I wasn’t really sure of what that was myself. I hadn’t had a plan since I left. All I knew was that I wanted more than this, more than the reservation life. I wanted to be someone I could be proud of. And with the help of Zedd, that could happen.

  It started pouring down with no warning. I sat there in the downpour for a while before I decided to get up and head back to the house. My boots sloshed in the muddy puddles. I heard a loud grinding noise and moved toward the end of the trees. The noise got louder and louder.

  Chapter 8

  I climbed over the big rock at the end of the road, the rain still pouring down, and I saw what was making the grinding noise: a dark blue sports car spinning in the mud. Who the fuck was this, and why in the hell were they grinding in the mud like that? They stopped spinning, and everything fell silent. The rain stopped almost instantly, and the car wasn’t moving anymore. I couldn’t tell if the driver was male or female. I stood up and walked over to the car. I wasn’t ready to go back to the house yet. Everyone was busting my balls for stupid reasons. They wouldn’t ever understand if I actually told them what I’ve been doing with my spare time. They would call me a sellout and tell me I was trying to be uppity. I didn’t want to hear that shit from them. I looked down at my caked, dirty fingernails and laughed out loud. If Zedd could see me now.

  I slowly walked over to the car, still trying to figure out if the car was local or not. It was freezing out and my fingers were getting numb. I rubbed my hands together and balled my hands into fists to keep them from freezing. When I got to the back of the car, I noticed the tags had one of those rental stickers on them. Sheen had just told me that the council was complaining about all of these tourists coming to the Res looking for fucking vampires and werewolves. How stupid can people be? If vampires and werewolves existed, I sure as hell wouldn’t go looking for them. And it was almost dark, why was this person looking for what goes bump in the night in a sports car?

  I turned on the edge of the car and walked up to the driver’s side window and tapped on it. The person inside jumped and just stared out the front window. I looked in the same direction they were looking and saw nothing. But they looked as though they saw something there. I tapped on the window again, but the driver still didn’t turn or budge at all. I saw that the driver unhooked their seatbelt and then dug into a bag for something. I prepared myself for whatever was coming. This fucker wasn’t a local, and they didn’t fucking know me. This is my fucking turf and my community, and some crazy fucker was here trying to start some shit. I was ready to beat the living shit out of whoever this asshole was.

  I beat on the window this time; this asshole needed to hurry the fuck up. It was cold as hell, and I was hungry. This fight was happening; one way or another. The driver pulled out a cell phone and then put it back down.

  “Get the hell away from me, psycho,” a woman’s voice shouted. I stopped for second as I realized the driver was a woman. I chuckled a little under my breath and relaxed a bit. She didn’t have one of the Res visitor’s decals hanging on her mirror, so she hadn’t gone through the main gates.

  “Your phone isn’t going to work up here,” I told her.

  “Please just leave me alone; I’m just passing through and I got lost,” she said in a shaky voice. She was lost and scared and that made me feel bad.

  “I’m not going to hurt you; I’m trying to help,” I paused until I saw her take a small breath. “You cannot be here; you are on private property. Visitors, who have not been cleared, are not allowed,” I told her in the nicest tone my throat would allow. She still wouldn’t look at me, and I knew me standing here talking through her driver’s side window wasn’t helping at all.

  “I live right up the road. I’m going to get help. Don’t move. And don’t try to pull out anymore; you’re only making it worse,” I said in a stern tone. I wanted her to know I meant business because she was already stuck deep in the mud, and the more she tried to get out of it, the worst it would be getting her out. She nodded like she understood. I walked across the road and up to the house. I went inside and they started in as soon as the door opened.

  “Aww, here he is. He’s finally cooled off and now he’s ready to make up,” Kanoke laughed out. He made kissy noises at me. I ignored him, walking toward the bathroom. I looked inside and there in the middle of the floor where my full-sized bed once sat, was a massive hell of a monster and king of all king beds. This bed looked manly and strong; and it didn’t remind me of Elle at all. And that made me happy.

  “There’s a woman stuck in mud over across the road. You guys want to help me out?” They argued back and forth, pausing their game and putting on their work boots. When I came out of the bathroom they were both waiting on me. I walked past them and they followed me out.

  “What the fuck?” Sheen yelled. I knew what they were thinking. They were wondering what in the hell was a sports car like that doing here. They probably were also thinking about how in the hell we were going to get that car out of the mud without some serious help. I just shook my head and Kanoke laughed. Because I was wondering the same damn thing myself.

  “Did she ask you if you turned into a werewolf?” Kanoke asked. We all hated that damn Twilight story. Ever since those fucking books and movies came out, we got hella tourist up here. They would ask all these dumb ass questions like; have you ever seen a real life werewolf or are vampires real and does your tribe hate them? We would just ignore them just like how I was ignoring Kanoke now. As soon as we got to the car, they both started cursing and fussing in Umallupi.

  “How in the fuck did she get so stuck? I mean common fucking sense should have told her to stop and just shut the fucking car off,” Kanoke fussed. I hated speaking in our native tongue in front of non-native people.

  “I told her.”

  They just shook their heads at the woman and the car. We all maneuvered around the back of the car trying to get a good grip on it. Once we felt secure, I yelled over the trunk.

  “Go!”

  The car stalled for a second and then moaned and groaned a little as it tried to straighten.

  “Stop!” I yelled over the trunk again. We got better grips and then we were ready for the next attempt.

  “Go!”

  The car jerked and the tires spun this go around.

  “Stop!” I yelled again. I knew one more shifting should do it. We all got ready. We were covered in mud from our waists down, and our hands were slick. It was hard to find a good place to grip.

  “Okay, again,” I told her in an even tone. She followed directions even though she hadn’t when I left her here. But I realized she was scared and didn’t know what I was going to do. She gunned it again, and the car spun before finally working its way out of the mud and gliding onto the road. We stepped away and I looked underneath to make sure none of the pipes were clogged. Everything seemed to look alright. The guys walked back across the road and I walked back over to the driver’s side. This woman didn’t belong here and she needed to leave. One of the other guys on the Res might not have been as nice as I was. I was about to knock on her window again to get her attention, but she was staring across the road at the guys. She pus
hed some buttons from the inside and both windows rolled down and the top came down. She yelled over the roof of the car at the guys.

  “Thank You.”

  Just then I felt the stickiness of the mud on my shirt against my skin. I pulled the shirt off because that was a nasty feeling.

  “Do you think you can find your way out now?” I asked her as I wiped my muddy hands on the balled-up shirt.

  She didn’t say anything, so I looked up from my hands and stared into the most alluring chestnut eyes I’d ever seen. She gawked at me like she was trying to talk to me with her eyes. Her mouth opened slightly before she closed it. Her lips looked soft as clouds and so luscious. I’ve never seen lips that looked that soft before. I wanted to touch them, just to see how they felt to the skin. I took in a deep breath and smelt the sweetest fragrance. It smelled like fresh laundry and then something a little sweet. She was staring me up and down; her eyes were wide, and she had a dumbfounded look on her face. Her fingernails were polished chocolate brown, and she gripped her fingers on her steering wheel. She squirmed a little in her leather seats. She squinted her eyes and sucked her lips into her mouth, acting as though she had something to say but didn’t want to say it. I shook off her strange behavior and focused.

  “Now you need to leave. You people act as though you can’t read the sign that says, ‘Private Property.’ You do not belong here and you’re not welcome.”

  She looked up at me in shock.

  “If your kind would just read the signs,” I mumbled under my breath. Her eyes went all crazy and I stepped back a little.

  “My kind!” she yelled. I watched her carefully as my mind started running through what I just said. Had I called her a bitch or something by accident? No, I hadn’t. I very rarely used that word, and I know I wouldn’t have said it to this face. This woman was beautiful, and I would never say such an ugly word to her. Wait, did I just say beautiful? I never use that word either. But she was beautiful. Her caramel skin was a couple shades darker than mine. But our skin colors complemented each other’s. She had long soft curls; I just wanted to run my fingers through her hair. And those chocolate brown nails…I wanted her fingers all over me. I wanted those nails tracing against my skin and digging into my back. I wanted her neck and head to fall back as I thrust inside of her. I wanted to hear her moan and wanted to see the face she made when she orgasm. My heart started pounding in my chest and then out of nowhere, my dick jerked, and I felt blood rushing through it. What the hell was wrong with me? My dick was hard and I haven’t even touched her yet.

  Wait, I needed to focus right now. She was pissed about something I said. What the fuck did I just say? Okay, I told her she needed to leave and I told her that “her people”…wait, and I told her that “her kind”…oh shit! That sounded really racist. Oh fuck, she thought I was racist against the color of her skin. Oh sweet beautiful goddess, how could I be racist of your skin when we almost share the exact same color? I had to fix this with her. I didn’t want her thinking this about me.

  “Wait that came out wrong,” I told her with pleading eyes. That did not help me at all. She let go of the steering wheel and laid into me with her words. Her hands started flying all over the place.

  “I read the Twilight series a long time ago; and since I had moved here, I wanted to come and see what the town and reservation life was all about. I wasn’t impressed by what I saw. When I gassed up at the station, the attendant told me about this place. I came here and I liked it. I know this particular area wasn’t in the books or movies, but I wanted to see it anyway.”

  She took a big breath and started getting teary eyed and my chest swelled. My heart was pounding faster and my hard-on was gone. I felt like shit for making her tear up. I was pissed at myself now. I was making this amazing woman upset.

  “It started pouring in like two and a half seconds and I couldn’t get to the car fast enough. A semi ran me off the road and I knocked down someone’s mailbox. The house had the number twenty-four on it, and it was back on the main highway. I’m not the type of person to just do a hit and run, so I wanted to pay for it; but I got lost. And then I got stuck in this stupid mud.”

  She really started wailing now and I didn’t know what to do. She was absolutely beautiful and I would do anything to see her smile. I wanted to wipe her tears away, but my hands were filthy. And in the mood she was in right now, the last I needed to do was touch her. Touching her right now would be very very bad. I kept silently, repeating that to my twitching hand.

  “I just moved to the PNW and I freaking hate it and fucking hate you too!”

  She was pissed at me. Why couldn’t I get a freaking…oh, yeah...she thinks I’m the racist Indian.

  “You’re a God dammed racist; you fucking psycho, and fuck you!” she screamed at me.

  I heard a door shut across the road and I saw my mom and sister watching us. I noticed a few others had stepped outside their houses as well. This wasn’t good. That’s all I needed: another woman saying horrible things about me. She snapped out of her rage all of a sudden and blinked a few times.

  “Do you know the people whose mailbox I knocked down? I need to let them know I will pay for it and any damage I did to their yard,” she sounded sweet then; there was no rage in her voice now and that made me happy. I didn’t want to see her upset. Her cheeks were red and her tear-stained face reminded me of a child’s. Her chestnut eyes buried me. I smiled at her and I wanted to touch her face, her arms, her hands, and those juicy, succulent lips. And then just like a whip, all of her calmness was gone. She turned back into the raging bull from before.

  “Do you know the fucking people in the little house?” she yelled at me again. I couldn’t resist it this time, she was too adorable.

  “Yes, I do.” I laughed. And the calm before the storm came. She started taking in long hard breaths and it made me a little antsy.

  “Well, if you’re done laughing at me, jackass, why don’t you tell me who the family is so I can contact them about the mailbox so that ‘My kind!’ can leave this warped world.”

  “Hey, there’s no need to down the Res-”

  She interrupted me. “No need? Did you really just say, ‘No need’?” You racist son-of-a-bitch…kiss my fat ass. I’m a minority just like you. Our skin is the same color almost and...you know what? Screw this and screw you! Where is the closest police station?”

  “Ma’am, I’m real sorry if I offended you; but I really didn’t mean it like that. I was only trying to help you--”

  “POLICE STATION!” she interrupted.

  I couldn’t think of what to say. I didn’t want her to leave like this; all pissed off and thinking I’m a racist and shit. She wouldn’t even look at me anymore; she just stared out the front window.

  I leaned over into her car a little and that sweet smell of hers hit me smack dead in the face. I looked her over and I could see clear down her shirt. She had huge tits and her black bra was peek-a-booing out of her V-neck shirt that was sticking to her body. Her nipples were hard, and I could see them clear through her bra and shirt. Her jeans were tight and they hugged her curves. I bet she had a lot of curves. I’d like to bite and suck each and every one of them. I leaned in even closer and she gripped the steering wheel more tightly. I wanted her to look at me; just for a second. And when she gave me that second, I would kiss her long and hard. But she never looked up at me; she wouldn’t even give me a side glance.

  “There is a ranger station three miles up to the left,” I told her softly, still waiting for that glance or maybe a change in her body. She dropped one of her hands and put the car in drive and sped off. I just lifted my hands that were resting on her window seal. All she left behind was mud and her sweet scent. I watched the back of her car until the lights were gone, and then I walked across the road.

  “Lil Sampson, what the hell is going on over there?” I heard Roan, one of my neighbors ask.

  “A woman was stuck in the mud,” I shook my head and just kept walkin
g over into my yard.

  “Damn women drivers,” Roan said.

  “Give me those clothes so I can put them in the wash,” Mom told me. I stripped out of my boots and jeans. The guys had their clothes piled up on the ground by the door. I stood there in my boxers, gathering up their clothes and mine. I walked over to my mom’s front door and handed her the clothes.

  “Who was the crazy bitch in the car?” Mom asked me.

  “She was lost and then got stuck in the mud.”

  “Why was she screaming at you?” she asked. Patty walked over and I hugged her and gave her a kiss on her forehead.

  “I insulted her,” I admitted.

  Patty laughed. “Oh no, not Mr. Suave; who’d of thunk it.”

  I looked at her as we both laughed. I wasn’t good with words and I was constantly saying something that pissed someone off. Females mostly, I just wasn’t good with the opposite sex. That’s what Zedd is trying to correct in me. I knew how I could have handled that situation better, but there was something about her. I lost everything I’d learned from Zedd. I was drowning. Elle wasn’t like other girls. She was more of a tomboy. She didn’t wear makeup and she didn’t dress like the lady in the sports car. And she never smelled that damn good before either. Elle didn’t smell, but she never smelled like that. The lady in the sports car smelled fresh and clean.

  When I made it back into my house, the guys were all sitting on the couch in my clothes. I didn’t care; we shared stuff like that. We were all about the same size, give or take a jean size or two. I went over to the wall phone and called the Ranger’s Station. I wanted to give them a fair warning on what was to come.

  “Ranger’s Station, this is J.P.”

  “J.P., this is Little Sampson. Is Karen or Charlotte in?”

  “Charlotte is. Hold on just a sec.”

  “Char, phone,” he yelled.

  A couple of heartbeats later, she answered. “This is Charlotte.”

  “Charlotte, this is Lil Sampson up at the Res.”