by Carol Dawn
“Hey, fool, why you out struttin` around this street in the middle of the night?”
The male voice comes from somewhere to my right. I look over and can barely make out a figure leaning against the old post office.
“Looking for someone,” I say.
“Oh yeah?” he asks. “Who?”
“I’m not sure,” I tell him. “Word says that this is the place to go when I need something sweet.”
“Whose word?”
“I’d rather not say.”
The figure steps away from the building and starts walking my way. He stops a few feet in front of me and I can just make out his face. He’s wearing a dark hooded jacket hiding most of his features, but I can see that his nose has been broken a time or two. He stands almost as tall as I do, but he’s a bony man. Either this man is a hard user or he’s very sick.
“Names Ricky,” he says, still standing a few feet away. “Ricky, the Guy. Ya know? Because I’m the guy. What’s your name?”
“Ricky, the Guy? Do you know who I should be looking for?”
“Do you not have a name, man?”
“Chuck,” I say the first name that comes to mind.
“Chucky, my man. You look like you on some gym candy, bro. All those muscles. What you need something sweet for?”
I play along and chuckle. “Gotta keep me looking fine for the ladies. I gotta sweet tooth tonight, though. Can you point me in the direction of who I need to talk to in order to help me with that?”
“Hello,” he says, pointing at himself. “Ricky, the Guy. I’m the guy, man. I’m who you need.”
Alright then.
“You looking for something sweet? I got just the thing.”
He unzips his coat and reaches inside pulling out a mini clear bag.
“This is the best powder you’ll find,” he tells me. “How much you want?”
“Can I have a better look at it?” I ask. I need to see if it has our logo on it.
Ricky takes a step forward and holds the bag up so I can see it. I pretend to get a good look at the cocaine inside while I search for the logo. It’s hard to see without light, but right there on the bottom, I can just make out flames.
“Gram is fine,” I say.
“That will be one Benny.”
What is it with this man and names? I reach into my back pocket for my wallet and pull out a hundred-dollar bill. Just as I’m about to hand it to him, someone stumbles by and knocks into me causing us both to fall.
“What the fuck man?” I say.
“Oh, srry mann. Didn’t see ya therr,” he slurs.
“Better watch yaself, Chucky,” Ricky says. “Drunkers are always stumbling through here all hours of the night.”
I jump up and bend to help the man off the ground. As soon as he’s standing, he starts to walk but stumbles again. This time, bumping into Ricky. Ricky shoves his shoulder under the man’s arm and helps him stand.
“I got it,” the man says.
“Ya need to go a few streets over and call a cab,” Ricky tells him. “Not everyone in this area is as kind as I am. One day you’re going to bump into the wrong man.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the man says before stumbling off.
“That happen often?” I ask.
“At least once a day,” he says. “But it gets crazy on the weekends.”
I hand him my money and take the bag he’s holding out.
“Pleasure doing business with ya, big guy. Come back again,” Ricky says before turning and heading back to lean against the building he was at before.
I shove the bag in my pocket and walk back to the car. Hawk’s sitting behind the wheel when I arrive. I walk to the passenger side and slide in.
“Nice job,” I tell him.
“Thank ya,” he says with a grin. “It was a lot easier than I thought it was going to be. I just slipped it in his coat pocket when he was helping me stand.”
Chuckling, I grab my phone from the glovebox and open the app Slim set for us to track his chip.
“He’s still standing in the same spot,” Hawk says, looking over my shoulder.
“Yeah, and I suspect he will be for a little while yet. The night is young.”
As Hawk drives us to the clubhouse, I take the bag out of my pocket to get a good look at it.
“Fuck,” Hawk says. “I can’t believe someone is stupid enough to sell this shit with our name on it.”
“Yeah,” I say. “We’ll figure out who it is. Then sick Trigger on them.”
Chucking, Hawk says. “That man’s crazy at times.”
Tucking the bag back into my pocket, I let all this shit slide to the back of my mind. I can’t wait to get my girls back home and tucked into bed.
My girls.
My baby girl, Sophia.
My beautiful forever, Arabella.
Fuck, yeah!
Chapter Thirteen
Bella
I wake up and instantly want to go back to sleep. Real-life is dark and scary. My dreams are full of light, color, and faces.
Blake’s smiling face.
Sophia’s peaceful face.
My subconscious even gave faces to all of Blake’s friends.
Each second that passes, the memory of those faces, of color and light, all start disappearing. Darkness is taking away everything. I can barely remember my daughter’s face. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen her big blue eyes looking back at me. Will I even recognize her if I get my vision back?
I remember Blake’s smile and kind eyes. But even that is slowly vanishing. The thought of never seeing either of their faces again is what breaks the last bit of strength I have.
I haven’t cried since that first day I woke up to darkness. I was scared for my future. I was scared for Sophia’s future with me. I still am.
Now, I mourn what I’ve lost. What I’m losing. What I might never get back.
The tears fall no matter how many times I try to stop them. I wipe them away only for them to be replaced by fresh waves of grief.
Even when I hear someone open the door, I can’t stop. The dam has broken, and all of my heartache is pouring out trying to drown me in an endless sea of agony.
“What is this, baby?” Blake asks when he sits down beside me.
I’m laying on my side wrapped around a pillow as he rubs his hand up and down my back.
I don’t answer. I can’t.
I feel Blake lay down behind me before he pulls me against his body. With his arms wrapped tightly around me, I cry until I have no tears left.
“I can’t remember,” I tell him through my cracked voice.
“What can’t you remember?” he asks.
“You. Sophia. Trees. Color. How is it I’ve only been blind for a few weeks but I’m starting to forget things that I’ve seen my entire life?”
He responds by pulling me tighter against his body.
“Please, help me.”
I don’t know who I’m asking. I don’t know exactly what I’m asking for. All I know is that I feel defeated. Worthless. Lost. Alone.
“Help me remember,” I beg the universe.
“Blake, please help me feel.”
“Baby,” he breathes. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.”
“I don’t want to forget.”
“Never, sweet girl. I won’t ever let you forget.”
I roll over until I feel his breath on my face. He places one hand on my hip and his other arm under my head. I feel his fingers dig into my hair as he gently rubs the back of my neck.
“What color is your hair?”
“Dark brown,” he answers softly.
I reach up to find his hair and run my fingers through it.
“It’s short,” I say. “Are your eyes still green?”
With a chuckle, he says. “Yep.”
“Are your hands soft or rough?”
I know my questions seem silly, but I’m trying to build his image back up in my mind.
“Nothing soft about my hands
, baby.”
“Will you show me?”
I don’t know why I asked that. I don’t even know what I want him to show me. All I know is that when Blake’s around, I don’t feel so lost. He brings light to my dark existence. I want more of it. I want more of him.
Blake’s hand moves from my hip all the way up my side until he reaches my shoulder. Then he retraces his steps and rubs halfway down my leg. His other hand never stopping the gentle massage on my neck.
It feels so good. I close my eyes, getting lost to the sensation.
Feeling Blake’s lips on my forehead causes my eyes to burn, and somehow more tears escape and roll down my cheeks. Blake erases every escaped tear with gentle kisses.
“I can make you feel better, baby,” he whispers.
“Make it go away, please,” I beg.
“Make what go away, sweet girl?” he asks, while moving his hand to my back and rubbing small circles into my skin.
I open my mouth to say, the loneliness. But that isn’t quite right. Then I try to say, the darkness. Even that doesn’t feel like the right answer.
“The fear,” I eventually say. “I am so scared, Blake. So unbelievably scared.”
Blake doesn’t say anything, but his arms around me tighten.
“Do you trust me, Arabella?”
I don’t even have to think about the answer. That alone is a scary thought.
“With everything I am,” I say. “With everything I have.”
A low growl comes from Blake.
“Best goddamn answer, baby,” he says while moving until I’m on my back and he’s leaning over me.
“Don’t you move from this spot,” he demands. “I’ll make you forget about your fear for tonight, sweet girl. All you have to do is lay there and feel.”
Blake kisses my forehead, my nose, my lips, and my chin as he shoves his hands under my shirt and pulls it up and over my head.
“Fuck. No bra, huh?”
“I don’t need it anymore. I’m no longer producing milk and my breasts are small enough to not need a bra all the time.”
“Hush now,” he says. “Your tits are absolute perfection. And I hate that you’re no longer producing milk. I would have loved to taste the sweetness your body created.”
I can feel my blush move from my chest to my face.
“I’m so good at sexy talk,” I joke. Why in the world am I talking about my boobs leaking milk?
He chuckles as he kisses between my breasts and continues to work his way down to my belly button.
I feel his hands grab the top of my pants before he slowly pulls them and my panties off my body. He leaves a trail of kisses from my toes up to my thigh. My eyes are still closed, and I try to picture what this moment looks like. What I might see if I looked into his eyes.
Does he like what he sees?
If I open my eyes would he see the vulnerability I feel at being completely naked?
I freeze when he starts to spread my legs. I get flashbacks of the only other time a man has been near that part of me. I’m forgetting what Sophia and Blake look like. I’m forgetting how vibrant colors are and how bright light is. But for some reason, everything about that night is playing out in my head in vivid detail. It’s so real and focused that I can see the twinkling of the stars.
“Baby?”
I count back from five before answering.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I was just having a flashback.”
Blake tightens his hands on my thighs.
“That fucker is not welcome in our bed,” he grumbles. “Stay with me, sweet girl. Anytime you want me to stop just say the word. We go at your pace and only when you want to.”
“I want to,” I whisper. “I want his touch wiped away.”
He gently presses my legs apart, and this time I don’t stop him. I put every part of me, body and soul, in Blake’s capable hands.
“Holy fuck,” he breaths out.
“What?” I ask frantically. Does he think I’m disgusting? “I know I’m not skinny. Even before I got pregnant, I was a little chubby. But my body is different now. My belly is bigger, and I have stretch marks. Oh no! Am I still bleeding? The doctor said I would bleed for about five weeks after giving birth to Sophia, but I thought it finally stopped.”
“Breath Arabella,” he says with a chuckle. “First off, your body is made to be worshipped. Which I plan to do on a regular basis. Your belly marks are tiger stripes, baby. You grew our little girl in there, and there is nothing more beautiful than these stripes.”
As if to prove his point, I feel him pepper kisses over where my stretch marks are.
“Our little girl?”
“And second,” he says, completely ignoring my question. “You’re not bleeding anymore. But you are very wet. Does my sweet girl need her man to make the ache go away?”
Without waiting for an answer, he dives in and starts licking me.
“Oh my god,” I gasp. It feels so naughty having him lick my private area. It feels wrong but not wrong enough to ask him to stop.
“You taste so fucking good, baby. I could lay here feasting on your nectar for the rest of my life.”
He starts licking me again. He slides his tongue right into my hole, and I reach down searching for his head. I grab the back of his head and push his face even closer. With a chuckle, he removes his tongue from my hole and starts moving up.
He reaches an area that has my hips thrusting up against my will.
“Whoa, what was that?”
His only response is a deep chuckle.
It’s only a few seconds later when I feel something building.
“Blake,” I breath. “Something’s happening. I feel like I’m falling.”
“That’s right, baby,” he says before inserting one of his fingers inside my vagina. “Fall, sweet girl. I’ll catch you.”
With the sensation of his finger moving in and out of me and his tongue working its magic, I let go and fall.
“Wow,” I say and flinch when my voice cracks.
“Not only are you beautiful when you come,” he says against my temple. “You’re very loud, too.”
“How did you get up here so fast?” is my stupid response. “Wait, did you say loud? Oh god, someone probably heard me.”
“Baby, I’m almost positive the whole building heard you.”
“Lovely,” I mumble.
“I love knowing that everyone knows you’re mine,” he says smugly.
“Am I though?” I ask. “Yours?”
“Every single perfect inch of you,” he says while grabbing my hands and placing them against his mouth. He always does that when he really wants me to feel his emotions.
I feel his small smirk.
Caveman.
“I want to do that again, sometimes.”
Wait, what did I just say? Who am I?
“Oh baby, we will be doing that again every chance we get. And whenever you’re ready, we’ll be doing so much more.”
Gosh, I’m so selfish.
“Uhm, what about you? I can help you if you want me to. I mean, I don’t really know what to do but I saw this movie once and it showed what the woman was doing. I might not be any good, but I can try. Of course, I can’t see so you’ll need to guide me. Plus, maybe teach me how you like it.”
Shut the hell up, Bella. What is wrong with me? I just can’t seem to stop rambling.
“No need, baby,” he says. I can feel his smile grow beneath my fingers. “This was about you.”
“Oh.”
What am I thinking? He pleasured me to help me relax. Of course, he doesn’t see me that way. After learning what happened to me with Jack, he probably thinks I’m dirty.
“What’s with the frown?” He asks, while gently rubbing between my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“Assumed what, sweet girl?”
I really love it when he calls me, sweet girl. Almost as much as when he calls me, baby.
“That you would want me in that way,” I admit.
Blake is silent. My fingers are still pressed against his mouth and I can feel the tightness of his lips. He doesn’t seem happy.
He grasps my hand and slides it down his body. Down his bare chest. My goodness, he’s perfect. He slowly continues until I reach the denim of his pants. He pushes my hand a little further down until I feel a bulge.
“Does that feel like I don’t want you, sweet girl?” he asks. “Because I want more than anything to push deep into that perfect pussy. But, as I said before, tonight was all about you. I’ll get my chance when you heal a little more. Don’t want to hurt your head any more than it already is.”
“Oh,” I say. Because what else does a girl say to that?
“Never doubt that I burn for you, baby. I burn so fucking bad that it takes everything I have to keep myself under control.”
“What if I don’t want you in control?”
“You keep rubbing my dick like that and you’ll find out what happens when I lose control,” he says in a low voice.
“Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even realize.” I can feel my face heating up.
Blake belts out a laugh. “Never apologize for touching what belongs to you, baby. Because every single part of me is yours.”
“Are we going home?”
“Yeah, baby,” he says, chuckling at my change of subject. “Let’s go get our girl and go home. Ink was feeding her when I got back.”
After I get dressed, we walk out of Blake’s room and make our way slowly downstairs toward the voices.
“I’ve never been happier to be blind,” I tell him.
“Why’s that, sweet girl?”
“You said I was loud. I’m glad I don’t have to see the knowing look in their eyes.”
“Oh, they’re going to know that you had a very happy moment, baby. Your face is beet red. Plus, they aren’t shy. They’re going to let you know they heard.”
Great.
“But, I’m blind. Surely they won’t pick on the blind girl?”
“Oh,” he laughs. “Pulling out the blind card, are we?”
We must enter the room because all the voices stop. No one is saying anything, they probably don’t want to embarrass me.
“Chains, why didn’t you tell us you had a wicked tongue?”
