The Fight Within

by Laveen, Tiana

  A light, lazy chuckle escaped her mouth as her eyes slowly closed like window blinds.

  “Yeah, I can stay.”

  “I had no plans on letting you go anyway.” He kissed the back of her neck once more. “I got you now, baby.” His smile turning sly, he pressed his lower stomach into her ass, while his now soft cock still rested inside her.

  “I hope you do, because I wouldn’t want anyone else to have me but you.”

  Her uninhibited declaration made his fucking dick hard, stand and salute the roundness of her cheeks as his heart pulsed beneath his skin. He drew slow circles on her shoulder with the tip of his pointer finger, delving in his thoughts for a moment or two… He couldn’t have designed a more perfect evening.

  “Sean?”

  “Yeah?” He paused.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too, baby…. So happy you’re here with me.” Tracing the back of her neck with his lips, he sighed.

  Soon, she fell asleep. As he followed suit, he wondered whether this was reality, or was he dreaming of the sweet scent of her bare flesh against his own? In any case, he never wanted to awaken, never wanted it to cease, to end, to be over.

  Please, no rolling credits…

  He needed her, and what made him feel even better, the best reward of all, was the knowledge that she needed him just as much…

  ‡

  Chapter Fifteen

  Yeah, I was busy but you’ve been quiet. –Sapphire Storm

  So have you. I figured you were out with your new main squeeze. –FINDERKEEPER

  Main squeeze? Like lemonade, huh? LOL –Sapphire Storm

  Making lemonade out of sweet lemons, that’s what you did. You never gave up, and see? It worked out for you. –FINDERKEEPER

  Yes, he is pretty awesome. –Sapphire Storm

  He couldn’t be. Now that your love life has improved, you’ve left me here twiddling my thumbs. That makes him a bum in my book. –FINDERKEEPER

  LOL! And who wrote this book about bums? –Sapphire Storm

  It’s not about bums. There is just one chapter devoted to bums, and it is about your boyfriend. –FINDERKEEPER

  LOL! You are a horrible person, you know that? –Sapphire Storm

  I try, but sometimes I fall short of my daily goal. –FINDERKEEPER

  So crazy! LOL. I doubt that you are twiddling your thumbs. If you are, that surprises me. I thought you had a main squeeze yourself? –Sapphire Storm

  I do, but she doesn’t find me as funny as you do. She calls me on my shit. I’d much rather live in denial. I need someone to stroke my ego like a cat on their lap. –FINDERKEEPER

  LOL! Well then she must be asleep and have her ears plugged. You are a riot. –Sapphire Storm

  I was kidding actually. I imagine she thinks I am a big ass riot, like L.A. Rodney King style…without the racism, looting and police brutality, of course. –FINDERKEEPER

  I just can’t with you tonight. Anyway, I’m sure she does. –Sapphire Storm

  A minute or so passed…

  You seem a little quiet. Are you okay? –FINDERKEEPER

  I’m great, actually. I just can’t believe what’s been happening. We’ve not spoken in a while. –Sapphire Storm

  I know. What’s going on? Maybe I can help. –FINDERKEEPER

  This time actually, there is nothing to help me with. There isn’t a cure or a need for rescue or a joke needed to bring up my spirits. This is exactly what I wanted and needed. –Sapphire Storm

  Well then, what’s the problem? –FINDERKEEPER

  I am in love with him, FINDERKEEPER. I have never felt like this about someone, not even my ex. –Sapphire Storm

  Well, isn’t this an interesting turn of events. Tell me more about this. –FINDERKEEPER

  I knew it some time ago, but it became crystal clear after we saw this woman and she…never mind. Anyway, he is so good for my spirit, my mind, my heart and my soul. He’s not perfect, but he is good for me, you know? I have never met anyone like him in my life. No matter how I tried to second guess this, he really does love me back. It is like I am caught up in some dream, in a good way. –Sapphire Storm

  I know what you mean, kind of experiencing the same thing over here, but would just word it differently, I suppose. Anyway, since you’re in love with this man, then you need to embrace it, Sapphire Storm. –FINDERKEEPER

  I am. Trust me, I am. At first I wasn’t trying to entertain it but that was short lived. –Sapphire Storm

  Why would you stop something like that? I thought that was what you wanted? –FINDERKEEPER

  It was, I mean, it is. But I was afraid of getting hurt. –Sapphire Storm

  Okay. That’s honest. I can understand that. It’s kind of like when you keep putting your heart over and over on the line and it keeps getting stepped on. After a while, you just don’t want to chance it anymore. –FINDERKEEPER

  Exactly. I am worth more than that. I know what I deserve. I’ve just never dealt with someone so honest before. One quality I like about him is that he admits when he needs to work on something and tries to better himself. I saw things about myself from his vantage point that I didn’t like. With the exception of one situation, he never said it in a condemning sort of way; it was just through our interactions. It made me want to do some self-analysis. I think we make each other wanna be better versions of ourselves, you know? You can’t ask for more than that. –Sapphire Storm

  No, you really can’t. That’s ideal actually. So many people go their entire life never finding a fraction of that feeling. You’ve got it, and then some. That’s what this journey is all about, finding someone that loves you in spite of your flaws, and being a better person due to their positive influence in your life. That’s the basis of a lifetime friend, and an ideal mate. Sounds like you’ve got a winner to me. –FINDERKEEPER

  I do. He’s got me, FINDERKEEPER. I am hopelessly his. –Sapphire Storm

  Devoted to one another, sounds good. I like that. I am very happy for you. And never forget, he has a winner in you, too…

  *

  “So you just gonna date the trashman, huh? That’s what’s hot, huh? That’s what’s happenin’?”

  Treasure shot her interrogator an evil eye though the curve of her mouth twitched with the mirth she kept at bay during the hurled accusations.

  “He is about my age, and you just standing there acting like that shit is normal. I can’t believe this.” Brian’s upper lip rose in what appeared to be antipathy as he glared at his mother through darkened, slitted eyes.

  “The next time you curse while speaking to me,” Treasure stated calmly as she placed her small diamond stud earring inside of her lobe at her bedroom vanity mirror, “will be the same time you are entered into foster care. I have the paperwork pre-filled on your smart-mouthed behind. Now try me if you want to.” She smirked.

  “It was an accident…” her son offered as he slumped onto her bed like a deflated balloon, suddenly defeated by her nonchalance and failure to rise to his bait.

  She felt his eyes on her while she finished dressing for her date with the very man in question.

  “I know. You curse so much at school and with your friends, it just comes on home with you like your bad attitude. Now, my question to you is, how do you know what he looks like?” She took a good look at herself before reaching for her Maybelline mascara.

  “’Cause he left you some raggedy note on the trashcan a long time ago. I threw that shi… that thing away.”

  “Why?” She spun around in the boy’s direction then back to the mirror before he’d uttered his answer.

  “’Cause ain’t no trashman needing to talk to my mom, that’s why.”

  “You still didn’t answer my question…” She struggled to concentrate on the task at hand.

  I hope I don’t get mascara on my damn eyelid again…

  “Remember a while back when I forgot my backpack and came back home?”

  “Yes.”

  “I saw the
garbage truck down the street and waited for him to pull up the week after he left that dumb letter trying to hit on you. I stayed in the neighbor’s yard, saw him jump off, and he was smiling at the house ’nd crap. I knew it had to be him, the way he kept looking over, like he was waiting for you to come out onto the balcony, let down your hair like you were Rapunzel or some shi…I mean, some stuff…just smiling. Anyway, if this is the way you say it is, why haven’t you introduced him to us?” In the reflection, she watched her son raise his chin high, challenging her, then crossing his long arms across his chest, like some B-Boy about to whip out some cardboard and breakdance his life away.

  All he needs is a kangol and gold chain… LL. Cool J is Baaaaaad! She smirked at the notion, relishing her teenage years of being obsessed with the rap icon’s music.

  “Because you and Asia are the most important people in my life, and I never bring a man home unless I know he and I are really serious. It may just confuse you, make it harder.”

  “Oh, so you and he serious now?” The boy’s thick brow shot up and bunched like a caterpillar, and he no doubt was hoping for his mom to say, ‘Nah, we’re just messing around…’

  She couldn’t help but smile, despite the tense look on his face. She threw him a glance over her shoulder. “Yes, we’re quite serious. He and I have talked and you will be meeting him very soon.” She turned back toward the mirror and finger combed her curls, elongating them, making them bigger and bolder to match her heart as it swelled with svelte memories of words recently spoken from her lover’s lips…

  ‘I fucking love your hair…wanna bury my face in it.’

  “Mama, I know you can’t be this desperate.” The sixteen-year-old crossed his arms even tighter now, bunching his black and white checkered shirt against his chest. He grimaced, refusing to give up the gauntlet. “I mean, he might be nice, I don’t know,” he shrugged his shoulders indifferently, huffing, “but he is like, twelve! And he is a trash collector, Mom! That’s just crazy! And he’s white.” The boy nodded, as if he’d brought some new shit, an undiscovered detail that blew her damn mind, one that would cause her pause, stop her dead in her tracks and declare his disputes Nobel-Prize-worthy.

  “First of all…” She sucked her teeth for a spell, trying to choose just the right words for the irritation known as her first born. “He’s fully grown, thirty-four, about to be thirty-five to be exact, and secondly, it doesn’t matter what his profession is. The point is, he has a job and is self-sufficient. In reference to his race, so what, Brian?! I’m surprised at you.” She kept her reserve, unmoved by the boy’s protests as she dabbed a bit of perfume along the side of her neck.

  “So what? What you mean so what? How is he gonna help you, huh?”

  “Brian.” A sense of exasperation crept within her like rapidly growing branches across a wall that simply wouldn’t move the hell out of her way. She pushed the frustration aside, keeping in mind that her son was simply trying to protect her, do what boys do… “The idea of a man helping me is more than just financial, okay? Your father helped me financially, and look where it got us?!” She turned quickly, facing him head on like a semi truck barreling down a road going the wrong damn way. “Money is not everything! And him being white is irrelevant. I am still stuck on that…it’s not like you to say things like that.”

  The boy lowered his head and shrugged, twisting his lips to the side—fighting the urge to say something smart, no doubt.

  “And you’ve dated white girls, too. Why is it okay for you and not for me? I never said one word to you about your dating choices. You’re not grown, but you’re old enough to decide who you want to go out with, share your company…and I’m beyond old enough! I’ve never tried to choose your friends for you. As long as I knew they weren’t out in the streets getting into trouble, you never heard a word from me. I don’t need anyone’s permission to date Sean, especially not my own son’s.”

  “Oh, so now we finally know the trash man’s name!” His eyes grew large. On a long-suffering sigh, he threw his hands up in the air, a bit of dramatic flair, even for him. All that was missing was an avalanche of silvery glitter falling from the ceiling and some stagey music with a canned audience applause.

  “Boy…I swear.” She laughed mirthlessly as she turned back toward her vanity and applied a fresh coat of scarlet lipstick.

  “I don’t know, you’re my mom…” He shook his head. “It just feels different. This is the first time…” He ran his palm against his thigh so hard, she was certain he’d rub a hole in his brand new jeans.

  “…The first time, what?”

  “The first time you’ve been happy since Dad left. I mean, actually look happy, like really happy. You’d pretend to be, but I knew it wasn’t real. This is real… I don’t want you to get hurt, Mama.”

  She looked at him through the rounded vanity mirror and cracked an all-knowing grin. Before she could think harder about his confessions, she was up on her feet. She approached the boy and lifted his chin just so, forcing him to look her in the eyes.

  “I know you don’t, and I get it, baby.” She kissed the top of his head. “But, I’m able to take care of myself. I was taking care of myself before your father and I met, and I’m doing so now.” Dropping another kiss on the bridge of his nose, she sat beside him. “But I appreciate your concern all the same.”

  He nodded and swallowed and as she stared at him, knowing him the way she did, she could also sense his internal struggle. He wanted to keep fighting on her behalf, keep the conversation going, but…he wanted her just as she was at that moment, too.

  Happy.

  “So, like, what kinda stuff do you all do?”

  On a light chuckle, she wrapped her arm around his narrow waist, pulling him in closer. “We date…real dates, you know? We talk about everything under the sun.” She waved her hand across the air as if painting an invisible picture with the palm of her hand. “He is a really good man, Brian. He’s smart, resourceful, and so funny!” Her thoughts drifted briefly. “I mean, seriously funny! You’d love him. I know you would. I’m looking forward to you and Asia meeting him.”

  “But what if I don’t find him so amusing? What if I don’t like him?”

  “Well,” she said with a shrug. “You’d have to tell me why.”

  “Would it change anything?”

  She didn’t miss the mischievous gleam in his eyes, a glossy dash of hopefulness that was certain to be doused with her words.

  “It would only change something if it were legit, and not just you nit-picking because you want your mother all to yourself.” She offered a tilted grin, and he returned the favor.

  “It’s not just that, Mom. You’ve been through too much. Do you know what it would do to me to see you messed over?” He leaned back a bit and laid his hand across his chest, his voice rising ever so slightly.

  Her heart warmed at his words, how could it not? He was communicating with her, telling her the truth…loving her in the best way he knew how.

  “I know, Brian. But you know what?”

  “What?” he said, his shoulders slumped.

  “It would hurt me more to never trust and love again, take a chance. Yes, I could play it safe, but then I’d never experience those butterflies of falling in love anew and not the kind born from infatuation, the kind where the wings keep on flapping long after the first ‘hello.’ If I want to win, Brian, I have to play the game.”

  He looked down between them, and slowly nodded. Reaching for him, she brought him close and caressed his long braids.

  “Sometimes not playing the game at all is worse than knowing you participated, but your one person team lost—and add to that, you broke a window with your flying ball. I’d rather see that broken glass, knowing it just didn’t work out, Brian, but also understanding that at least I attempted to get something I wanted, always trying for that homerun. That way, I never have to wonder ‘what if?’ I never have to guess what it would’ve been like to step up to bat in the first
place. I played, and I won because I tried, honey. That’s what life’s about. It’s about trusting yourself enough to fail, but knowing true failure is never trusting yourself at all…”

  *

  “I haven’t walked the Brooklyn Bridge in years.” They strolled hand in hand. She looked over the majestic thing, at the people passing them to and fro, while a light breeze moved her hair about. “Tonight is just perfect.”

  “…And it didn’t cost a thing.” He laid a tender kiss upon her cheek, grazing her soft flesh with words unspoken. He’d been thinking about the woman all damn day, so much so, it drove him to distraction. Suddenly, some of his favorite songs became soundtracks to memories of making love to her in the wee hours of the morning, replaying the sordid and beautiful tapes in his mind. Each time he found home inside of her, it seemed as if he were unearthing a new layer within her core, something unspoken and undeclared. She became a canvas for his eyes only, and they feasted off each other’s rugged artistic flavors. Her arm hung lazily over the side of the rail and he wondered what thoughts danced inside of her head. As she leaned over the railing looking across the waters at the Manhattan cityscape, He couldn’t help but take a quick yet meaningful step back and scan her ass… the same one he’d sucked, licked, and left with a heart shape bruise after pinching the skin ‘just so’ between clenched teeth.

  Did she find the smallest pair of jeans she could get in?

  “Your ass looks amazing!”

  “Thank you!” She laughed.

  He wrapped his bandaged arm around her waist and pulled her near, gathering her lightweight sky blue sweater in his grip as he brought her so close, she couldn’t resist laying her head against his chest. He shifted a little, trying to keep his arm steady. It hurt a lot less now, and the aspirin helped a bit, too. Paul, his trainer for his upcoming fight, had told him to lay off it a day or two. The guy was shaped like a fucking brick and just as hard, too. He’d put him in the ring for a practice run with a wild guy that hit as if his hands were flame-covered blades of iron. The man looked like some derelict misfit that had escaped the Looney Bin, an unattractive Tarzan of sorts. Regardless, he had this fool’s number, and he was prepared to make that shit quick, get it over with as swiftly as possible. Everything was fine until Sean briefly looked away… A mistake he never made, yet, he’d been distracted by someone suddenly entering the arena.