BOMAW 7-9

by Mercedes Keyes

  "If Shawn had been around—he would have never allowed that to happen. Shawn feels that we all belong to him. He's…a bit…over the top—when it comes to protecting us. Especially protecting me. Had he been here, I would have called him. Just didn't know where he was, when it was happening. But—he would have come and gotten me. My brother is…a man…a force—to be reckoned with. Anyway...that's why I'm here, living here—Shawn's idea. On one hand, I love living here, I feel so much safer. And then on the other hand, to be honest, I feel a bit nervous—I feel a bit guilty. Because…he's just married and…his wife—"

  "Sylvia—that still blows me away, that they connected and married so quickly. No one else could get anywhere near her."

  Shanna laughed, "What Shawn wants, Shawn gets. Simple as that—and he wanted her. Poor thing, she hasn't a clue. Not yet. She doesn't really know my brother. There's a side to him, that only I've seen…Jake has seen, Derrick—he's seen it. That side, my father created it—I know that now. Thing is…I feel guilty, because I don't want to do anything to disrupt his new home."

  "Is Shawn violent?" Royce asked.

  "He would never hurt her. Shawn does not hit women, he'd sooner cut off his arm. Not the way my ex hit me."

  "Then what do you mean by, 'he's a force to be reckoned with'?"

  Shanna looked at Royce, and suddenly decided she'd said enough. He was, after all, a police officer. What he represented, was the law. While Shawn abided by the laws of the land, he was also disdainful of their process. She knew, that her brother—when it came to them, to his loved ones—that he was a law onto himself. He was the police, the lawyer, the judge. He exacted what he felt was necessary, when it came to them. Shanna smiled, "Let's not ruin the night with talk of things like that. I'm sorry. Didn't mean to put a downer on it."

  "It's alright, I don't mind. I'm glad you told me."

  Shanna nodded and looked away. Suddenly, she wished she hadn't gotten involved with the police officer. Her life wasn't in order. She was gazing with unseeing eyes down into her lap. "Hey?" Royce called softly to her, he reached over and gentle grasped her chin, turning her to him, "You okay?"

  A sad smile came with the nod, "It's getting late. You have to work tomorrow?"

  "Yeah…I do. I really hate to go, but I think I should get home."

  "I understand."

  She was gazing into his eyes, as he was hers, still holding her chin. He couldn't resist, he leaned towards her. Shanna braced herself. "You mind?" He asked softly. While she knew that she should mind, she wanted his lips on hers. She so longed for the tender touch of a man that was whole, real, kind, gentle and caring. In preparation, she licked her lips, then gave a slight shake of her head, she didn't mind. With the angling of his head, Royce touched his lips to hers. Very softly, testing, and found that it was nice. Loved the scent of her. He moved closer to her, his arm coming around her shoulders as he deepened the kiss. His tongue stroking, tentatively. Shanna opened her mouth, and met his tongue with her own. Their mouths sealed, locked one onto the other as their tongues slowly glided against the other, twisting, caressing. The first initiation of intimacy was glorious. Long overdue for them both. It was right. It was sure. It was splendid, and the sensation, the knowledge that they meshed, that they fit—overwhelmed Shanna. She wanted to weep. She wanted to melt into his body and not come out. She wanted to tuck into him and hide there forever. If just the kiss made her feel so strongly, she wondered what feelings would ravage her heart and soul when she lay beneath him, taking him into her body. The kiss seemed to go on and on, neither of them wanted it to end. It seemed to infuse them both with powers of renewal and surety. The absolute exactness of them as a match, was made certain with that kiss. Breathing deep, they finally, reluctantly broke the seal of their lips, yet their faces clung to the closeness, his cheek, against hers, his lips, touching her skin, seeking for just a few more pecks.

  "I guess…I…better go…now." He was finally able to speak.

  "Yes…I guess."

  "When's that court date again?"

  "Couple of weeks."

  "Oh—let it be—let it be." He sang, breathless.

  He pulled away, had little choice, since he wouldn't be staying the night. He stood, searching for his keys, and took them from his pocket. "You bes' get inside, now." Shanna smiled, looking up at him, his car was twenty feet from them, parked in an angle alongside her Jeep, which was alongside Jake's truck.

  "I will—in a moment, I just wanna sit here for a bit—I'll be alright."

  "I'd feel better if you were inside." He tried again.

  "Thank you for caring, but—I'll be okay here."

  He sighed, nodded and stepped away from her, and down the three steps from the deck. She could see that he really didn't wish to leave, but she knew he should and he knew that he should. Making it to his car, he opened the door, and waved at her. She waved back. Inside, he started it, stared at her a bit more, then turned in his seat to look out his back window, backing out of her yard and onto the road. It was in clear view from where Shanna sat. When he corrected his vehicle, he waved again. Shanna waved back. He then accelerated and drove away.

  Shanna sat a few moments more, bringing her legs up, folding them, with her knees beneath her chin with her arms wrapped around them. She sat thinking about her life. About her family. About her brothers and her sister, Kathy Ann. She thought about John Sykes. "Roll on, just two more weeks —roll on." She pleaded the soft prayer. Sitting there, she suddenly heard her name shouted out.

  "Shanna!"

  She looked up at her house, in the window, was her brother—Jake.

  "Get your ass in here, right now!" He ordered, as if he had every right to.

  "Excuse me! I'm a grown woman, I'll be in—in a minute!"

  "Don't make me come out there! In here—right now—right this goddamn minute! You've had your goodnight smooch! Ass—in—now!"

  "UGGGH! Have you been watching the whole time?" She asked, leaping up from her swing seat.

  "Never you mind how long I've been watching, get in this house!"

  She could hear Vivian behind him, scolding him. "Jake, you need to stop. She grown."

  "Was I addressing you, lil' girl?" He asked.

  "That's his problem, Vivian, he thinks we're all little girls!" Shanna fussed, coming into the side door of her home, which was right into the hallway, two glasses in her hands. She was locking the door, when her brother yelled, "LOCK THOSE DOORS!"

  "I AM!" She shouted back. Going from one door, to the front one to do the same. She clicked off the lights in her living room and kitchen, setting the glasses in the sink, leaving only a low night light on in the kitchen above the counter. Walking down the hall, she could hear Vivian's laughter and Jake's voice, low and threatening. Suddenly, she burst out of their room with a pillow in her hand, laughing and trying to get away from him. Jake stood in the doorway, hair standing straight up, mussed. She'd slammed him with the pillow. "You think running behind her is gonna save you!? I'll kick both your asses! Hit me with a pillow?"

  "I'm sorry—I'm sorry—go'on now, Jake!" Vivian pleaded, even though she was laughing.

  "Don't run from him, Vivian, hit'im again! Tellin' me what to do! He better be glad I didn't pop him with one!"

  "What did you say? You threatening me?"

  In no time, both women were screaming; one minute running from him, and then the next, wrestling with him, hitting him with pillows as he tackled one, tossing Shanna to the bed, and then flipping Vivian, holding her where she couldn't get loose, slapping her on her butt, making her scream because his hand hurt. Hard and calloused hands, that he would mimic the gesture of spitting on, to slap her rump again. He loved holding her so that it was out in front of him; and then pushing his sister over, and hitting her with a pillow while holding Vivian. All three making a huge racket, screaming, laughing and playing. Both of the women struggling with him, trying to get him down, trying to hold him, but couldn't, he was too strong for both of them
. He laughed at their efforts, at one point Vivian had gotten on his back, arm locked around his neck, legs around him, he carried right on knocking Shanna about, dragging her to him and hitting her with pillows while she screamed and laughed, calling out to Vivian for help. To Jake, she was nothing more than a pesky child, who was not even worthy of labeling a burden. To prove it, he let her stay on his back until finally he reached behind him, grabbing her, he bent over completely and flipped her onto the bed, coming back up laughing, he flipped her and slapped her on the ass again. Anything she did, everything she did, her reward was a slap on the bottom. It was too easy for him to pick one up and toss her, and then the other. Another time, he had Vivian over his shoulder, rump by his face and Shanna on his side, underneath his arm, both squealing as he shook them, growling like a bear and then tossed one onto the bed and then the other.

  "NOW STAY THERE!" He barked, finally out of breath, red, breathing deep, using a voice that was menacing, as if a great wrestler and they were trying to pin him down. "WHO'S THE MAN HERE? WHO THE BOSS—WHO IS—THE BOSS? LET'S HEAR IT, LADIES!" He bellowed, posing like he was Superman. They were both worn out, blowing, laughing. They gave up, but wouldn't say it, he reached to grab Vivian's ankle and she screamed out, "YOU JAKE—YOU THE BOSS! No more, leave me alone!" She whined, scared of getting another slap on her butt. She was in total disbelief of how strong he was. He gave a evil, "muah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha" laugh, stating, "Yeah—and don't you forget it, lil' girl! You may be able to outrun me, but when daddy gets a'hold'uv'ya—that's it!" He reached for her again, she squealed and backed up to the headboard, her butt was stinging from him slapping it. She knew he wasn't slapping it as hard as he could, but those hands of his were like planks of wood. "Now, let me hear it one more time, who's your daddy?" Vivian was laughing, though looking fearful, "You, baby…that's you…all the way."

  "Damn right." He then looked at Shanna, "Your turn!" Laughing she said, "Okay, okay, okay…asshole!" But then busted out laughing.

  "WHAT?"

  "NO! Stop, Jake! Okay…I'm sorry, you the man! You the boss! Big daddy, whatever the hell else!" She conceded in a grumble, and then ordered him, "Now get out of my room!"

  "Gladly!" He announced and looked back at Vivian, "You—woman o'mine—get where you belong! Move it, move it, move it!" He ordered Vivian like a drill sergeant. She leapt off of Shanna's bed and ran down the hall to his room, with him behind her saying, "Big daddy's gonna punish you for being a bad lil' girl...and I know—just the way." Shanna heard him threaten upon closing their door. She chuckled some more, picking up her wrecked room.

  She wished they would get married and move in with her. She loved having them there, especially Vivian. She felt safer, happier with them living with her. She would suggest it to them. She wasn't sure exactly what their plans were, but she couldn't see her brother moving to Chicago. She sure hoped he wouldn't. She wanted him to stay there with her. She wanted Vivian to stay there with her. She wanted her entire family back together and in one place. She smiled; she and Shawn were alike in that. He was the same way. He preferred all those that he loved, within easy reach. Finished with straightening up her room, fixing the sheets and covers back on her bed, she went into her bathroom to check on her little kitten. It was curled up inside of its bed. She checked the tray, it had done a number that needed removing. Because the litter hardened up and clumped, it was easy to clean it. She dropped it into the toilet and flushed it. Washing up for the night, she went back into her room, put on a night sleeper and climbed into bed.

  Chapter 181

  Mundo was on his way home. He'd dropped Marcus and DJ off at the Super 8. Derrick Jr., his brother—half brother, was very mature, responsible and focused. Mundo decided, he wanted to be like him; his older brother. Derrick had taken him and Marcus to meet some of his friends at a house party in La Crosse; they were celebrating his going into pro-ball. Most of his friends were white and the others black. He was a leader among them, and had no qualms about telling them to chill with his little brothers present. There had been girls there, too. Two of them were crazy over DJ—and started fighting over him because one had gotten drunk, smoking weed and attacked the one that Derrick had been indulging. Both of them white. He hadn't taken either of them seriously, because his mind was on the task ahead. As a rookie drafted in—he needed to have his mind set on being a contribution to his team. He had dreams of being instrumental in bringing the Eagles to the Super Bowl. They hadn't stayed at the party long, because Derrick Jr.'s mind was on talking to them and preparing himself, mentally. Mundo could see how nervous he was about leaving his family and going off to training camp. Derrick had explained that depending on what he showed in training camp, that would determine if he would see some play time; whether or not he would be sent to the line up. He wanted that more than anything. Playing offense, as a running back, he needed to prove his mettle. His body wasn't needed for bulk, like in tackle—he was picked for speed. For agility. He needed to have quick reflexes, eyes of an eagle, quick hands for catching the ball and holding on to it, then sure-fire sprinting ability to take off like a shot once it was in hand. He had to rush with the speed of light, and spot the openings that would let him through, scoring a point for his team, or moving them up the yard line to eventually score. He talked to Marcus and Mundo about it. He most certainly voiced a desire for them to make any games that they could. Anywhere that he could help them to do so, he would.

  To Mundo—he was already a star. He could tell that Marcus felt the same.

  Their night together had not been a long one, but it was one that made them closer. He thought about Derrick senior. He was so proud of his son. He loved Derrick Jr. as if he were his own flesh and blood son. They were truly, father and son—Mundo thought the world and the wonder of it, so ironic. Ironic in that, his mother and DJ's mother both fell for McPhersons. His mother now married to one brother, the oldest, and DJ's mother married to the other. Just as Derrick treated DJ like his son, Mundo was treated likewise by Shawn. He loved him. He was always having fantasies of doing that one "something" that made him proud of him. One thing at a time. He'd paid in to him, invested in a trust of him—made it possible for him to return to school and complete what he set out to do. DJ told him this night, "Don't ever take it upon yourself, to figure things out for yourself. Call me, or call your dad. Shawn Everett McPherson. You and I, have a chance to be something great, or at the very least, something good. We have nothing standing in our way. My brother, there's nothing standing in your way. Take your gift, and use it with all your might."

  "My gift?" Mundo had asked, confused.

  "Yeah, a father. Nowadays, that's a gift. A man…who will lead you right—if you're willing to follow. Me, I'll follow my father anywhere. Anywhere."

  Mundo thought about that, about the fact that DJ had had tears in his eyes when he made that declaration about his father, Derrick Senior. Mundo understood. He understood, only too well. He turned down the road leading to home, his high beams on—and passing Shanna's, he saw someone dart from Shawn's house towards Shanna's, out of his right peripheral. Mundo put on breaks, backed up and turned into her drive, leaving his lights on. He sat for a moment just staring. Waiting again. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him. The man he caught, although quickly, reminded him of the one at the convenience store earlier that night. He sat for a moment, not sure of what to do. Wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him. It was late, or really early, depending on how one looked at it. It was past two in the morning. He sat for a few minutes, and then backed out of her drive after seeing no more activity. He drove down the rest of the way, to his mother's home and pulled into the yard, getting out of the Blazer. Locking up his vehicle, he went to the front door, using his keys to get in. The porch light was on. Turning, he locked the front door and stood in the living room for a moment, feeling uneasy. He knew he wasn't crazy. His eyes weren't playing tricks on him. Better safe than sorry. He walked to his mother and Shawn's door and tapp
ed on it.

  "Yeah?" Shawn responded right away. There was no way he could get into a deep sleep, knowing that Mundo was still out; he'd heard him come into the house and lock the door.

  "Papa-Shawn, can you com'ere a minute?" Mundo asked softly.

  Shawn was up without hesitation. Sylvia sat up as well, groggy with sleep, she had to pee and rose, going into their bathroom. Shawn slipped on his house/casual trousers and went to the door opening it. "What's wrong?" He asked.

  "Com'ere for a sec?"

  Shawn closed the door and followed Mundo over to the kitchen sink. "Uh...I'm not tryin' to be paranoid or nothing, but, uh—I just saw somebody running from the back of your crib, over to Shanna's. It's like—two in the morning, man."

  "Just now?" Shawn asked urgently.

  "Yep...just now. I pulled into her drive, and sat for a minute with my lights on. I ain't see'im no more—but I know what I saw."

  "What did he look like?"

  "Thing is, we seen him earlier—at the Subway on 12-16...dude got a problem, muttering racist shit—oops, s'cuse me—but I could swear that was him."

  "What did he look like, Mundo?" Shawn asked again, more urgently.

  "White dude, sandy blond hair; 'bout so tall...wearing a tan jacket, dark pants."

  Shawn darted across the kitchen and called Shanna's, letting the phone ring. He hung up before her answering machine could click on, and then ordered Mundo, "Go in my room, top back, right corner of the closet—there's a box, get it! Inside, chest pocket of my leather, there's a key—bring it!"

  Mundo wasted no time doing what he said. Sylvia came out of the bathroom to see him digging hurriedly in her closet. "What are you doing?"

  "I'm gettin' something, mama. Papa-Shawn told me to bring it." He answered urgently, finding both things and rushing back out of their room to bring it to Shawn, who was on the phone waiting for someone across the road to answer.

  "Fuckin' answer the phone!" He growled. His adrenaline was surging, but his hands were steady. He hung up and dialed it again, waiting as it rang, taking the box and key from Mundo. He sat it on the counter and quickly unlocked it, removing his 9mm, and grabbed a cartridge and loaded it.